While you’re reading this, I’ll probably be seated in the backseat of a van headed to the other side of Cebu Island for a film shoot.
The last full-length film I was part of was shot in January 2020, just a couple of months before the Covid pandemic lockdown. So to say that it has been a long time coming is the understatement of the decade.
Don’t get me wrong. There were offers. Okay, so there was only one. It was for a Cinemalaya project. The producers had contacted me and informed me of the role they wanted me to play, only to tell me a week later that, logistically, it would be easier for them to hire someone local since the shoot would be in the National Capital Region.
Of course, I had no say in the matter, but I understood full well. This was during pre-vaccine days, and authorities were sticklers for rules. Come to think of it, I’m not even sure if the film was ever shot. I immediately forgot about it when they dropped me from the project.
Life is too fleeting to dwell on setbacks. I don’t even remember the role they offered me, but I know I wasn’t part of the principal cast. That is something that sticks in your mind. Not that I am saying or claiming that I, Publio Jaca Briones III, only play the lead. Egotistical, I may be, but delulu I am not. Never have been.
I have always been aware of my limitations. Heck, I have a mirror at home. I know that I would never be cast as a romantic lead. Not even as the guy next door. Not because I have a plain appearance. Excuse me, I don’t have a face that only a mother could love. In fact, I’ve been known to turn some heads back in the day.
Really.
However — and it’s a big HOWEVER — I don’t have those je ne sais quoi qualities that Filipino filmmakers and moviegoers look for. That I concede to. That I accept. Without any rancor. Because what I possess are traits that make them automatically think of me when they are looking for a corrupt government official, a crooked cop, a murderous drug dealer, someone who commits sororicide, or a cult leader, among many other interesting roles that I have played since I started acting in independent productions over a decade ago.
Obviously, I don’t rely on acting as my bread and butter. Otherwise, I’d be all skin and bones by now and probably six feet underground.
No, I knew from the start that I would be in a situationship with regard to my acting “career” if I didn’t move to the capital. A well-known director had once suggested that I do that because there would be more work for me there. No, I am not going to name her because you might think I am boasting. Another well-known figure in the industry said I could be the next “Johnny Delgado.” Again, I won’t name names lest you accuse me of name-dropping. They were 100 percent right.
Doors were opening for me, and all I had to do was enter any one of them and I would have been a bona fide member of Philippine showbiz.
But to quote that enigmatic 1979 Michael Johnson song, “Doors, why do there have to be doors?”
So I stayed put in Cebu, where the opportunities are few and far between. That explains why I don’t have an extensive filmography. Not because I am picky. Which I am, by the way. Just because the role is that of a sinister, morally degraded public servant doesn’t mean I immediately grab it. No, the character has to be morally depraved as well. Heck, if I’m going to be typecast as a villain, I might as well be the worst of the bunch.
Before I continue, I did participate in a student thesis film last year where I played a down-on-his-luck comedian who is forced to do drag to stay in the business, but it was a short film. Not that I have anything against short films. The writer-director just happened to be very talented, and he told me that only I could do justice to the role, so who was I to say no?
I’ve always wanted to play a salacious religious personage — you know, the kind that preys on unwitting widows and trusting altar boys — but so far there have been no offers.
Anyone?
But I digress. So where was I? Ah, probably in the back of a van on the way to the other side of Cebu Island.
During an online meeting with the director before the start of the shoot, she asked me why I accepted the role even though I didn’t audition for it.
I could have engaged in rigmarole to sound deep and wise — something expected of someone my age — but I decided to do the unexpected and gave her a blunt answer: “It was there.” The offer, I mean.
I don’t know if she appreciated my candor, but I had no need to beat around the bush. It had been too long, and I was missing the spotlight. To put it plainly, I’ve been ready for my close-up since January 2020.
After all, who am I? Just a vain, twice-FAMAS-nominated Cebuano thespian.