The truth about dreaming big
I’m writing this in between bites on a Eurostar train on my way home. Home now is a Gregorian flat in Central London that I love. It couldn’t be more different than my home in Manila, but I made sure my bookshelf resembled my old one.
I’m currently making the most of my time here as I’m set to fly to Manila soon to start a new project with my mother network, ABS-CBN. I’m about to step into the shoes of a lady I couldn’t be further from—an exciting challenge.
Just yesterday, I was on the phone with my handler, Caryl from Viva, discussing updates and certain preferences for the new show. These little conversations don’t fly over my head. Seventeen years ago in June 2007, I was launched under Star Magic’s 15th batch of homegrown artists. There were more than 20, all introduced on the ASAP stage. A few of us were told to stay front and center and given about five to 10 seconds each to introduce ourselves. I said my name, loud and proud, and it flashed below me with my age: Krista, 16.
In the next few weeks, our group thinned out quickly. When I look back now, I still see clearly how I was with them for a whole summer from 7 a.m. to 10 p.m., attending workshops to hone our acting, dancing, singing, and hosting skills. We got makeovers, did our first photo shoots, and spent our free time (lunch and dinner breaks) looking for the cheapest meals around ABS-CBN.
I would say that I was one of the few positioned to survive and hopefully make something of myself. I took every class more seriously than anyone in my batch. After the first guesting they gave me, I had a high fever for a whole week probably because of my nerves. It’s funny because I could’ve been an ant in the first few shows I was given. Quiet (for a lack of lines) and insignificant. On one of my first taping days, I remember our director running my foot over with an ATV that was used as a prop, and I was so scared to upset anyone that I didn’t let my gasp of pain leave my lips. I was limping the rest of the day when no one was around. When I say that the privileges I get today are not missed, I mean that from the bottom of my heart.
Today, I am asked what movies I’d like to do, and I am able to request meetings to have storylines or full-length feature film scripts approved. And this position wasn’t handed to me easily. I’ve paid my dues of working 24/7 for years, severely overworked and underpaid. Mistakes in contracts and deals by people who used to represent me, being double-booked for work (therefore, needing to be in two places at once), being told at 21 that I was only ever going to be a supporting actress and knowing exactly what I’m capable of made me invincible. I didn’t spend the first few years hoping for something better and skipping on my original plan to stay in school to accept that I was “just” going to stay in a mold I was told to fit in.
I felt something in me akin to anger but without hate. It was more of a drive to prove myself because no one was taking me seriously. I was working insane hours, doing 50-100 scenes a day for an afternoon show I headlined in GMA. Yet I didn’t see a clear path ahead of me. So when an opportunity arose for me to contribute to the development of the political drama 10,000 Hours, I said yes. This will always be my breakthrough. I went on to bag my first few acting and writing nominations and awards because of that movie, and I got to work with people who believed in me. I met mentors Joyce Bernal and Irene Villamor.
Shortly after, I moved back to ABS-CBN. I felt like I had a voice—finally. I was relaunched in FPJ’s Ang Probinsyano and saw our boss, Sir Deo, and the whole production team collaborating every step of the way. That inspired me.
And so, I starred in some of my original concepts: Camp Sawi then Luck At First Sight. I was cast in 100 Tula Para Kay Stella and I’d say I found my footing. My manager Boss Vic guided me and made sure I was always aware of what I could achieve. I started taking my writing more seriously, studying under Sir Ricky Lee. I met new mentors: Tita Malou Santos, Ma’am Charo, and Tita June Rufino. They would read my scripts and concepts. Up to this day, in private conversations with mentors who have become friends, we discuss what we hope we can still change or improve. On most days, I still can’t believe I get a seat at the tables that matter now. Tita Malou and Ma’am Charo were the first to tell me I should start directing. This was in 2018. But I was so burnt out from doing a teleserye and two movies at the same time that I just couldn’t do it.
When the pandemic gave me the pause I needed, I decided to finally go for it. In 2020, I collaborated with roughly 45 people in Manila and 15 people in Cappadocia to create 366. I flew to Turkey alone because we had an imposed 14-day quarantine in Manila that I wasn’t going to let anyone go through. Tita June and I would be on the phone daily until 3 or 4 a.m. because something wouldn’t work out and I just wouldn’t take no for an answer, in the smallest and biggest of situations.
I’d say my career is in a sweet spot right now, and I’m exactly where I want to be. I could be further ahead, yes, especially when you consider the amount of work I put in. But I have taken all the steps forward that I could. The rest is now up to the people who manage me. But again, I’m happy where I am because I’m optimistic that I have so much time left.
I took advanced acting classes at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art in London a few months ago and I’m excited to have a fresh perspective that I want to apply as soon as I start working again. I still study when I can. I read books about old and new techniques, I watch all the movies and shows I can, and I attend international film festivals I’m invited to, to meet like-minded people.
I am where I am today, and I have reached my dreams—even the ones I didn’t dare imagine—because I worked and am working very hard. But I also constantly surround myself with people who wish for the same things I do: better working conditions and projects with higher production value. I consider myself very lucky to have experienced working on Filipino productions shot abroad (10,000 Hours, The Day After Valentines, Meet Me In St. Gallen, Ultimate Oppa, 366, Yung Libro Sa Napanuod Ko) because it exposed me to the work ethic and efficient systems in different countries that I hope we could adapt too. The fact that our working hours are more humane now is a great start. The streaming options we have in the Philippines also allow us more wiggle room.
There’s still so much to do in my personal career and in the industry that I love more than anything. I always say that the only way for our shows and films to really soar is through a holistic movement. We need other sectors to support us for us to lift up other sectors too. The power and influence that media has over its audience—to inspire, educate, and inform—should be taken very seriously. By my peers, our bosses, our producers, and especially by the people who consume our work.
If you’re reading this, I hope you are inspired. These are the words I would’ve loved to read that week I had a fever in 2007. You can do anything you set your mind to. Surround yourself with the right people and ask when you don’t know. Be brave and believe not just in yourself but in the space you’re in. Believe in the talents of your colleagues as much as you believe in your own and aim high.
The truth is, your dreams are as little or as big as the work you’re willing to put in. It’s as attainable as your belief in yourself. And it's as feasible as you are good and kind.
The meal was good. Salmon and couscous with a raspberry pie topped with white chocolate with the Olympics logo. The symmetry of finishing my food as I end this article makes me so happy. Anyway, for now, I would like to promise myself and my colleagues one thing: On my sets, I will always make sure that I won’t run over anyone’s foot with a prop, and in the off chance I do… I will notice and apologize. Whether in a literal or figurative sense.
