Growing up in the mid-2000s, I woke up every morning to watch Detective Conan on our CRT TV as I ate “hotsilog” (hotdog, egg, and fried rice) for breakfast. On my way to school, I saw gas-guzzling jeepneys painted with Goku and Jesus on their sides, vividly colored. After class, I rushed home to catch however many minutes of Slam Dunk remained before the evening news began.
And on the weekends, I looked through my dad’s countless anime DVDs for the Voltes V collection. Every episode in glorious 720×480, or at least that’s what the shady street vendor who sold it to my dad claimed. At that time, Filipinos were not yet privy to the magic of online video.
This week on Polygon, we’re looking at how cultural differences affect media in a special issue we’re calling Culture Shock.
I slid the disc into our silver DVD player, starry-eyed as Steve, Mark, Big Bert, Little John, and Jamie took flight in their suspiciously robot-shaped combat vehicles. Eventually, Steve would shout, “Let’s Volt In,” lightning streaking across the sky as the world’s coolest combiner robot rose among the clouds. Through all that, one of the catchiest anime themes ever made blared through the speakers.
These memories are dear to my heart. Yet even I could never hope to understand how important Voltes V, with its epic soundtrack and robot action, was to my father’s generation. The series’ electromagnetic grip on Filipino youth began when it debuted on the country’s GMA Network in 1978. Such action-packed animation, adapted from the Japanese anime Chōdenji Machine Voltes V, was breathtaking for a country so new to anime. Today, young Filipinos still sing along fervently to the theme, despite an effort by the government to wipe the series out of existence.
My dad was about as “otaku” as a man of his era could be. In addition to Voltes V, he kept hundreds of anime DVDs in a big binder. I could watch almost any of them; there was an implicit trust that I wouldn’t let the media rot my brain, and I appreciated that freedom.
My dad’s hands-off approach to anime contrasted sharply with the attitudes of baby boomers in positions of authority toward violent “Japanimation” in the 1970s. Many of those strict adults were shocked by Voltes V’s violence, but these animations paled in comparison to the real-life horrors of martial law in the Philippines.
About two decades before I was born, the Filipino people suffered through the reign of President Ferdinand Marcos Sr. The most infamous president in Filipino history, Marcos Sr. has a laundry list of crimes alleged against him, from throwing lavish parties with the Filipino people’s money to silencing critics of his political regime. Despite everything, a single act from Marcos Sr. seared itself on the Filipino consciousness forever. It was the moment he specifically banned Voltes V, alongside other super robot shows, from Filipino broadcasts in August 1979. The Marcos administration claimed these violent anime had “harmful effects on children.”
To this day, many dispute the exact reasons behind the ban, with some sources claiming censorship of violent content while others theorize a broader plan of media suppression. One of the most popular theories claims Marcos felt threatened by Voltes V’s anti-authoritarian themes. The truth seems more complicated.
Filipino historian and professor Xiao Chua is one of the leading experts on Voltes V’s ban, having studied archival material and spoken to many of the figures involved over the years.
Chua points to commentary from two key figures that inform the discussion. The first is Filipino voice actress Celina Cristobal, who appeared in the localized Filipino dubs of Tōshō Daimos, Mekanda Robot, and Voltes V. Under one of Chua’s Facebook posts in 2012, Cristobal mentioned the government alone was not to blame for Voltes V’s ban, but that religious organizations, such as the Catholic Women’s League, pressured the president to ban violent anime.
In past interviews with ABS-CBN and Manila Bulletin, current president Ferdinand Marcos Jr. — yes, Marcos Sr.’s son — and senator Imee Marcos have shared similar comments, noting that multiple private groups pressured Marcos Sr. toward the ban.
Imee Marcos even mentioned in her interview with Manila Bulletin that she was a fan of Voltes V, yet she rationalized her father’s decision, stating it was a case of “political rectitude” to prevent children from hurting each other.
The second piece of commentary Chua points to is from a now-deleted thread from a vocal Voltes V Facebook group. In the thread, Francis Ibanez, a veteran of the Filipino localization scene, claimed to have spoken with Larry Chan, founder of Questor (now Telesuccess Productions), the license holder of Voltes V in the Philippines. Ibanez alleged that in 1999, Chan shared a more sinister angle of the ban with him, saying Marcos Sr. banned super robot shows, including Voltes V, to sabotage the primetime ratings and media presence of GMA Network, the only large TV station nearby not under the government’s control. This plays into Marcos Sr.’s long history of silencing the media, with hundreds of journalists arrested for daring to speak against his regime.
We may never know the complete story behind the ban, but in a February 2024 interview with Business Mirror, Chan was asked point-blank about it. He smiled and said, “You know, the story of Voltes V is about a revolution.”
On Feb. 22, 1986, my father marched alongside millions of Filipinos in protest of Marcos Sr.’s corruption, censorship, and other injustices during the EDSA People Power Revolution. Strangely, he didn’t know why people were marching at first. All he saw was a crowd of angry, terrified, sad, and determined people. Yet with each new face in the crowd, the goal became clear. History was in the making, and my dad wanted to be part of it.
Also within that crowd was another teenager, Suzette Doctolero, who would eventually become a veteran writer in the Filipino television industry, working on hits like Encantadia, a popular 2005 fantasy show. But during the People Power Revolution, she was merely one face among thousands.
“At my age then, as a teenager, I saw it more as an adventure,” Doctolero said of her experience in EDSA. “The atmosphere at EDSA was unforgettable — people were sharing food and water, and despite not knowing each other, there was a sense of solidarity and unity. It was a powerful and impactful experience.”
When the 1986 EDSA Revolution overtook Marcos Sr.’s regime, the Philippines experienced freedom for the first time in over two decades. Marcos fled the country, and soon after, the networks rebroadcast Voltes V, this time with the ending it deserved. On Sept. 28, 1989, Marcos Sr. passed away in Hawaii, thousands of miles from home.
A decade after Marcos Sr.’s death, GMA Network compiled the last five episodes of the series into a movie. The film, aptly named Voltes V: The Liberation, debuted on June 9, 1999, 21 years after the network first broadcast the localized version of the series.
In 2023, GMA Network went on to collaborate with Toei to create Voltes V: Legacy, a live-action adaptation of the iconic anime — and Doctolero became its head writer. Doctolero was a divisive figure online when the show first aired, not shy about sharing her politics and arguing with critics on social media. In fact, I found out about her role on the show after I stumbled upon one of her posts defending it from critics.
When I sat down and watched the show with my dad, I chuckled with him over its sillier elements, like love triangles, sultry bed scenes, and grandiose speeches. For us, these tropes were a charming staple of Filipino primetime TV.
After I reached out to Doctolero for this article, I couldn’t deny her passion for Voltes V. Some of the best scenes in the live-action adaptation came from expanding upon the anime’s most emotional moments. “Voltes V resonated strongly with the Filipino people. Its themes of bravery, family, sacrifice, and the struggle between good and evil struck a chord when our country was experiencing political upheavals,” says Doctolero.
It is now 2025, the third year of President Ferdinand Marcos Jr.’s presidency. While the son is far from the tyrant his father was, Marcos Jr. remains silent on the dark side of his father’s regime. Meanwhile, I’m no longer the grade school child watching anime on a barely working CRT. I’m an adult making ends meet in a third-world country marred by constant economic turmoil and natural disasters.
Voltes V left my younger self with more than a catchy theme song or epic robot battles. It left me with a sense of justice, a belief that when those in power abuse it to oppress people, they deserve to have that power taken away. Striking pieces of artwork such as Eric Joyner’s Voltes Vengeance and Toym Imao’s Last, Lost, Lust for Four Episodes are far from subtle, depicting Marcos Sr. as an outright villain.
Though Voltes V was made in Japan, the Philippines transformed it into a cultural phenomenon. From its 1978 debut to a big-budget 2023 adaptation, Voltes V represents the revolutionary fury of Filipinos, a people plagued by colonization and cultural erasure. By overthrowing the powers that be, the revolutionary story was no longer just escapism. The ending of Voltes V became a reality for every Filipino who freed themselves from tyranny.
