Today we’d like to introduce you to Brian Villalobos.
Hi Brian, please kick things off for us with an introduction to yourself and your story.
I moved around a lot growing up. And honestly, I enjoyed it. Either by necessity or nature, I liked being the new kid — which worked out because for a while there we’d pick up and go every two years or so, seemed like. Not military; my dad was in sales, and the way it was explained to me was that they’d get too many people in one area, and we were always the last to move there, so we were always the first to be asked to go. In retrospect, that seems a bit weird and maybe kid-brain-muddled, but I haven’t seriously questioned it in the several decades since so why start now? Anyway, I was born in Orlando, then we hit Georgia, Costa Rica (where my dad is from — I grew up there from ages 5-10 and my brother was born there), back to Florida, moved again within Florida, and then to San Antonio, where I stayed from the middle of 7th grade through high school.
I don’t know if it was all that adjusting to new people and situations or some inborn people-pleasing thing (which I definitely, definitely have), but I think pretty early on I keyed into how enjoyable it was for me to try to make people laugh (and even moreso when those attempts managed to be successful). And so, either gradually or quickly, it sort of became my primary approach to people at large. When I was really young (this was in Costa Rica, so again, somewhere between 5 and 10) my dad and I would work up a list of jokes — like joke-book jokes, the what-do-you-get-when-you-cross kind — and I would get up in front of the extended family at Christmases and do, like, a set. A kid’s “tight five” of puns and light innuendo or whatever. I was the opener/warm-up act for presents. I had no idea what I was saying half the time, probably, and I don’t quite remember to what extent I caught “the bug” at that point, but at the very least I didn’t mind it and wasn’t scared, so that’s something. After that came school plays — I was Owl in Winnie the Pooh in maybe 1st grade and Captain Hook in 4th or 5th (still a point of pride; they asked all of us who wanted to be Peter Pan and I was the only kid who was like “Screw that; Hook rules”) — a summer camp or two, more plays in high school. My mom was really good about paying attention to what her kids were genuinely into and encouraging that, and I think that was huge in terms of confidence and not being self-conscious about following what I really liked doing. She noticed I loved playing charades and suggested I try out for those first plays; when I was Captain Hook she crafted this great aluminum-foil-covered, cup-and-coathanger hook-hand contraption that remains one of the most impressive things I’ve ever seen.
After that, more plays, then my wife (an actor as well; I met her in a play in college [UT, print journalism]) and I worked at a high school for about a decade. I was a teacher assistant for a long time, then an English teacher; she taught technology and speech. We taught a film-production class together, which was a wonderful experience and something we’re both still very proud of. Along the way, I almost accidentally acquired an agent and started going on commercial auditions on the side. When our daughter was born, we both stopped working at the school; she became a mom, I became a full-time actor. That was a lot of sudden changes at once, and I think I’ve still got a bit of whiplash from it, but it’s been wholly amazing. We’ve now got two beautiful, funny, brilliant kids (our son was born during the [first?] COVID pandemic, speaking of sudden changes), I get to do what I’ve always loved, and life is full, humbling, and grand.
I’m sure you wouldn’t say it’s been obstacle free, but so far would you say the journey have been a fairly smooth road?
Since I’m a straight, cisgendered Latino male who generally looks and talks like a white dude, I was born with a pretty full helping of white male privilege. So, in a lot of ways, most of the obstacles and challenges I’ve faced and continue to face — at least the ones I’m aware of — have been personal in nature, if not self-inflicted. There’s the normal actor stuff: rejection, self-doubt, self-image, ego, obsessiveness, crippling job insecurity. It’s the same thing I think you hear most actors say: I’ll book a bunch of stuff and have a packed calendar for months and be running all over the place without a chance to catch my breath, and then the second I get home from the last job and have a couple of days off with nothing on the ledger for the immediate future I start to panic and spiral and feel convinced that that was it, that I’ll never get another call or work another day in my life again, and I need to go buy a smock and get a real, respectable job like all the good and sane people in the world. And, you know — rinse and repeat. Becoming a father — the most incredible and constantly surprising and rewarding experience of my life — really threw that pressure into sharp relief and gave it a whole new life and layer of meaning. That was a real gloves-off, “This isn’t even my final form” thing. It was like, “All right, so you’re okay staking your own livelihood on all that ‘follow your heart’ nonsense, but what about the wellbeing of your FAMILY?” So, you know, that’s a big part of the challenge: Having faith, keeping on, believing, weathering the downs and the ups — which can both be tricky. It’s that Kipling line (which I definitely had to look up): “If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster / And treat those two impostors just the same.” Just being okay with things and proceeding calmly, with love and kindness. I fail probably as often as I don’t. But that’s part of it, I think: Being okay with that, too.
Alright, so let’s switch gears a bit and talk business. What should we know about your work?
I’m an actor, writer, and filmmaker. I love what I do. My mother once said that when I was a kid, she asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up and that I thought a moment, then said an actor, or a father, or a teacher. To be able to stop a moment as an adult decades later and reflect and realize that, sure enough, that’s what I did with my life — that those are all things I’ve done or am doing currently — is something that’s pretty special to me. Recently, I was honored to play a small part in Richard Linklater’s APOLLO 10 1/2 as NASA legend Steve Bales, who had an immensely significant role in the Apollo 11 moon landing (among other highlights in a storied career) and was kind enough to speak to me about his life and experiences. That was incredible on a number of levels. I have another small role in an upcoming HBO miniseries that shot in and around Austin and larger roles in a handful of forthcoming feature films, all with actors I’ve watched and known and admired for years, in some cases since I was a kid. I also got to shoot an amazing series for a month in Ireland last summer with a group of wonderful and wonderfully talented people, which is an experience I’m still pinching myself about. Aside from that, I just try to keep working as much and as often as possible and to be present with my family whenever I’m not working.
You ask the question, “What sets you apart from others?” That’s a question I never know how to answer, except to say that it’s the same thing that sets anyone apart from anyone. Particularly as an actor, a big part of the work for me is to sit with and realize that what I bring to a role — regardless of how different the role is from who I am in life — is myself. My experiences, my reactions, my history, my insecurities and strengths, my instincts. Everything goes, in some measure, through that filter, through the series of interpretations and ways to make sense of things that I happen to supply. That, I think, is ultimately what really sets us apart from anyone else, and the level to which we can be at peace with that and realize that that combination of things and thoughts and hopes and fears and brilliant ideas and weaknesses and pieces of life and heart that make us who we are can determine, in some measure, the level of ease with which we can just settle in and do the work we’re meant to do with truth, conviction, and love.
Can you share something surprising about yourself?
Oh, huh. This is always a tough one, too, because it depends how unprepared you are for relatively mild surprises. I mean, it feels kind of like a challenge, and I wish I could say, “Well, I was the third person on the moon” or “I was drafted by the Knicks” or “I’m actually a ghost” or something like that, but I guess I’ll settle for saying that I speak fluent Spanish; I once, for work, shot a flamethrower at a burger and spent a day making zombie noises in an open field; and I can’t do that thing where you fold your tongue into a hot dog/taco. Also, I can sing just about all the words to both “Gin and Juice” by Snoop Dogg and “Part of Your World” from The Little Mermaid, as well as all of the words to “Weird Al” Yankovic’s “Yoda” but almost none of the words to the song it is a parody of, The Kinks’ “Lola.” (Are you sorry you asked?)
Contact Info:
- Website: brianvillalobos.com, groundbreakingseries.com, imdb.me/brianvillalobos
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/brianvillalobos
- Twitter: https://twitter.com/lobrocop
Image Credits
Jake Bayless, Jordan Palmer, Shane Kelly, Patrick William Smith
