IT is seven minutes past the appointed hour when the cell phone rings. The rich measured baritone, familiar from years of being glued to the movies and TV, and recently heard on the GMA fantaserye Majika and the new Seiko movie I Wanna Be Happy, pours like liquid Lindt on one’s ears.

“Hello,” says Eddie Garcia, “this is Eddie Garcia. I’m here at the second floor function room of Mario’s.”

“Yes, yes,” I manage to reply, flustered. “I’m two minutes away.” I sputter, as I direct the cab driver with wild one-hand gesticulations.
This unshowbizzy punctuality, I learn later, is one of the secrets of the veteran actor, 80ish (more on this later), and with a schedule punishing enough to bring someone half his age to his knees.

With the thrice-a-week shooting schedule for Majika and a steady stream of movies coming his way, Eddie Garcia is the paragon of discipline.

Meeting him at Mario’s, he looks less hale than his onscreen persona, which is often strong, dapper, villainous, sexual, robustly comedic – an undeniable presence. There are age spots on his face, and the faint suggestion of a stooped back missing from the ramrod straight impression he conveys onscreen.

AGE DOESN’T MATTER

He is 80ish, after all. While the Manunuri ng Pelikulang Pilipino who honored him with this year’s Natatanging Gawad Urian, a lifetime achievement award, lists his birthday as May 2, 1921, just as the Internet Movie Database does, he tells another reporter that he is 81.
Still, does it matter? Not, I suppose, after making 250 movies as of 2005, according to the Manunuri. Or directing 19 movies.

What matters is that at this late stage in his life and career, he continues to find steady work in the movies, on TV and yes, even in the new independent films.

The actor (“Call me Eddie,” he says, as I automatically defer to him by addressing him “Sir”), Eddie knows how to take care of himself. Over lunch with a few members of the Manunuri ng Pelikulang Pilipino, he sticks to soup and salad greens, as the rest of us work our way through slabs of steak and swirly piles of pasta gooey with cream sauce.

He works without a manager, picking up his own calls, returning them (as I found out first hand), and creating his own foolproof calendar of commitments to ensure he has free days to work on projects he accepts.

EVERY ROLE…AND THE KITCHEN SINK

One can perhaps credit his discipline to his military background. He was a member of the Philippine Scouts posted in Okinawa after World War II. In 1949, he auditioned and won the part as an extra in Manuel Conde’s Siete Infantes de Lara, a turn of events he tells Lito Zulueta of the Manunuri saved his life. He would’ve continued his career in the army, he disclosed, “and I would’ve long been buried six feet underground” as he could’ve seen action in Korea and Vietnam.

Initially cast in villain roles because of his fierce mustachioed demeanor, Eddie later took on a surprising range of roles, from the closeted gay dad in Lino Brocka’s Tubog sa Ginto in 1971 to portrayals of real life characters like General Alfredo Lim, to the Manoy of sex comedies, and, in his 70’s, an unlikely action star during the 1990’s.

Eddie Garcia first worked in 1961 as an assistant director in Sampaguita Pictures’ Karugtong ng Kahapon, a drama that starred Rita Gomez, Ric Rodrigo and Marlene Dauden. He scored big directing Tony Ferrer’s Agent X44 potboilers in the 1960’s then went on to direct the Ferdinand Marcos biopic Pinagbuklod ng Langit for which he won a best director award from the Famas. He also directed Nora Aunor in Atsay.

Eddie Garcia seems particularly proud of creating the glossy Dynasty-like look Viva movies were famous for in the 1980’s. He was fed up by lazy production designers who used the same locales over and over. He decided to scout for locations himself.

Of his personal life, Eddie remains generic – that is, cautious and tight-lipped. His wife died in 1995, he allows, and says his relationships have been conducted in an adult way. “If it doesn’t work anymore, then we part ways,” he says simply.

He has a current long-time girlfriend, a relationship he describes as “fine and dandy,” chuckling afterwards. He knows where this is going and his indulgent demeanor tells me he has been around the block too many times for this kind of chismis-baiting.

HOTTIE ALERT

While one tries to find a neat all-encompassing statement to sum up the lifework and persona of Eddie Garcia, he stumps us all by refusing to do so himself. His lips turn to an inverted U as he tries to think of roles and movies he finds especially significant. In the end, he says, “It’s work,” suggesting jobs well done and an honest day’s sweat.

Let the critics think of labels, neat summaries, the grand romance of his career, if it comes to that. For Eddie Garcia, the movies are his job, nothing more, nothing less.

But perhaps the true test of his impact as an actor comes after we say our goodbyes. On the way out, we pass a long table of successful-looking women in their late thirties. One of them, holding her table napkin, approaches Eddie as the rest of the women in the table look on with sparkly starstruck eyes.

They were doctors, she said, throwing a despedida lunch for one of their colleagues. Would Eddie mind if he posed for a photograph with them?

As the actor obliges, the women whip out all manner of digital cameras from their bags and the pop of flashbulbs ensues. They twitter girlishly, these doctors.

Because Eddie Garcia isn’t just any actor. He is…whoever we want him to be.