Victor: Yes, I’m the marrying kind

Stripped to the basics, Victor Neri is anything but showbiz. He doesn’t care whether his name appears on top or at the very bottom of a movie ad (it ends up as the first in the list, at least as far as his upcoming project, Bugbog-Sarado is concerned).

"I can play support (he did, many times). After all," he explains, "the lead actor is only as effective as his support."

This low-key outlook extends to Victor’s choice of clothes. He shuns fancy ones that scream high fashion from name couturiers. His closet, he swears, is packed full with rugged jeans and t-shirts.

Besides, Victor swears there’s no mirror in the house, so why bother checking out the way you looks?

Victor only has two cars (one of them, a Mercedes, must be his only concession to luxury): a modest lifestyle for someone like him. One is for official (showbiz) purposes; another for personal use.

He won’t trip all over the place at the mere mention of film offer. He’ll study the script first and tactfully inform the producer he’ll call them as soon as he can.

This will allow Victor enough time to examine the script and ask himself: Does the role offer a new challenge for me? Won’t it duplicate what I’ve done before?

If the answer to the first question is yes, and the reply to the second query is no, he’ll call the producer and express interest.

"I’m not in this profession for the fame. It’s just a by-product of a job well done," he says. "Besides," he adds, "my main concern is for the audience to get their money’s worth."

Otherwise, he’ll feel guilty about cheating them, and himself, as well. For someone who believes that "I’m only as good as my last film," that is one unforgivable mortal sin.

It’s enough to keep Victor at home and busy himself with other things, like catching up on his reading.

"The last book I’ve read was one on Adolf Hitler. He’s such an interesting person, truly one-of-a-kind. He taught me what to do, what not to do," says Victor.

He is equally fascinated by books on Nikita Kruschev and Ferdinand Marcos. Their true stories grip him, page after page, an effect fiction books don’t have.

Leave him alone in a corner and Victor won’t take this as a sign of rejection. In fact, he’ll stay rooted to his chair, never for once tempted to hop from one table to another in an effort to be noticed.

"In fact, when the mood strikes me," Victor says, "I can even keep silent the whole day long. No need to worry about me. I’ll be fine."

Some people may frown at his mood swings, but Victor will just shrug them off, the way he shrugs off intrigues. Mum’s the word about his love life, especially after he broke off with Angelika de la Cruz.

All he’s willing to say is yes, he’s dating again, with no strings attached, yet. But she’s a nonshowbiz career girl, so please, you can almost read his eyes, lay off her.

Okay, okay. Let’s tread less-dangerous grounds. At that, he warms up again.

The monosyllables turn into full sentences when talk shifts to marriage.

"Of course, I’m the marrying kind. I want to go home to a simple, outgoing girl who is conscious of my needs. I want to have a family of my own someday," he says. "And I want to name my children after the characters in that classic film, The Godfather."

For starters, his almost three-year-old son by a nonshowbiz ex-girlfriend is named Vito (Vito Corleone, get it?). Victor plans to name the second child (not yet conceived, as of press time), Michael, another main character in the movie about the famed Italian Mafiosi family.

The concerned father in Victor emerges whenever mention of Vito crops up.

"I feel guilty about not spending enough time with him," he admits. "After Bugbog-Sarado for instance, I’ll be working on Filipinas, Viva Films’ Metro Filmfest entry. Then, by January next year, I’ll be shooting Rootcutter in one of our country’s northernmost islands."

This string of assignments will also take Victor away from another passion: music. The muse can strike him with such intensity, he can whip up a song for himself and another artist, with or without a deadline to beat.

So far, his track record has been promising. Victor has come up with Do You Mean Goodbye, a cut in Jeffrey Hidalgo’s album (Victor himself has come up with a self-titled debut album for Star Records when he was 17).

Victor also composed Let Go for Roselle Nava.

The list can go on and on, if Victor takes out all those compositions gathering dust in his cabinet. All he need to do is get any of his three guitars (classical, electric and steel) and strum away. Voila the words and melody tumble out like a cascading waterfall.

"I began with my father’s guitar when I was eight," he reveals. "Since then," he continues, "I’ve learned to enjoy all kinds of music, which makes me frequent music stores when I have time."

Problem is, time is a luxury for Victor these days. But he’s the last to mind. After all, he’s doing what he loves best, acting in films that make sense to him.

Who knows, it may even lead to what serious actors like him consider the thrill of a lifetime: the chance to sit on the director’s chair.