The untold story of Halina Perez

Halina Perez was a virtual unknown – a starlet whose launching movie was yet to be shown – when Startalk decided to feature her in one of its episodes sometime in the third quarter of 2000.

But it was an interesting story she had. She had been feuding with her father who was then locked up at the Sta. Cruz, Laguna provincial jail and there were a lot of issues they had to resolve between them – the most grave of which was Halina’s decision to enter show business and cavort almost totally naked on screen. (Nude still photos of her had seen print in tabloids and these were being passed around among the inmates at the Sta. Cruz prison – to the embarrassment of her father.)

Maybe we can reconcile father and daughter. That was one of the topics suggested in one of the Startalk production meetings. (I wasn’t there though because it is only Lolit Solis who attends meetings among the hosts.)

It was going to be a major production because location was going to be at the far end of Laguna. From my end, I was hoping they wouldn’t push through with the story because the day before, the Startalk crew and I had just traveled all the way to Caliraya to interview Rudy Fernandez on the set of the movie about the life story of Sen. Ping Lacson and I didn’t feel like motoring back to Laguna again in less than 24 hours. But like the good soldier that I had always been, I woke up early for that Laguna trip and waited for the Startalk vehicle to pick me up in my house.

On the way to my place, the Startalk team had passed by for Halina and her manager, Isaac Muñoz, Jr. (He was among those who perished with her in that tragic vehicular accident Thursday morning).

As soon as I got inside the vehicle, I saw for the first time how Halina looked like. Whoever thought of naming her Halina couldn’t have chosen a better name – I said to myself. Truly, her face was what you’d call in the vernacular as kahali-halina. Hers was one of the most beautiful Asian faces I’ve ever seen.

My first impression of her was that she was painfully withdrawn and shy. She and her manager were seated at the farthest row of the van where the car air-conditioner hardly reached them. Some of us offered to switch places with them because surely their armpits must have already been sweating profusely back there. Halina politely declined. I was very sure she was just feeling shy.

After a brief stopover for coffee at the Starbucks in South Superhighway, I decided to break the ice and asked her to tell me her life story. With much hesitation, she finally decided to open up. Her family is really from Laguna (a small town called Sta. Maria). A first-born child, she was baptized Vanessa May Ann Uri. Her parents, Rene and Mildred, unfortunately, separated when she was only four. With two kids between them, the couple decided to take one each. Yes, it was as if they were just dividing a pack of puppies between them. Halina went with her father, while younger sister Gia was taken by her mother.

Unfortunately for Halina, her father didn’t have steady work and was unable to provide for her. To complicate matters, the cold, lonely nights in Laguna made him yearn for another partner and he brought home a new wife.

When it became clear her father wouldn’t be able to support her, Halina was taken in and eventually raised by her paternal grandmother. A former schoolteacher, the lola was able to provide even for Halina’s education. Although the grandmother loved her dearly, life with her wasn’t exactly paradise for the young Halina. First of all, she wasn’t allowed to see her mother because her lola wouldn’t let her. (The in-laws didn’t see eye to eye). Then, there were the curfews at home and the unreasonably severe discipline the grandmother was imposing on the young girl. When Halina reached first year high school (they had moved to Lucena by this time), she decided to run away and look for her mother, whom she hadn’t seen in 10 years.

Mildred by then had also remarried and had two more kids. But she gladly took in her eldest daughter. Soon after, even to Halina’s surprise, her parents – by some stroke of miracle – decided to get back together. This reconciliation produced another offpsring – John (who should now be turning seven).

But the union collapsed again after a while. Her father had become a drug addict. The habit gone so bad that while high on drugs one time, her father burned the house of her grandmother (yes, the one who raised the young Halina). The grandmother is now a US immigrant and has remained unforgiving toward her son.

Her father got into deeper trouble after that. On Nov. 26, 1998, he was sent to prison for frustrated homicide. He claimed self-defense and was released on May 26, 1999.

But he obviously didn’t learn his lessons. Shortly after, he was back behind bars – this time for illegal possession of firearms.

When Startalk and Halina visited him at the Sta. Cruz provincial jail that time, Rene was only 39. But tough prison life obviously hardened his face and made him look years older. He was counting the days and dreaded the fact that he was soon going to be moved to the national penitentiary. (He had since been released and is now enjoying his freedom back in Laguna).

Meanwhile, on the road down south, Halina wanted to turn back the hands of time. She was beginning to regret having agreed to this Startalk feature. "Hindi ko alam kung ano ang sasabihin ko sa kanya," she told me almost in tears. As soon as she saw the concrete Sta. Cruz archway, she mumbled, "Malapit na."

In a matter of minutes, we were in the compound of the Sta. Cruz provincial jail and Halina wanted to back out and returned to Manila. But it was too late. Her father was already waiting in the office of one of the prison officials. Then, taking a deep breath, she got out of the van, and marched toward the office to meet face-to-face with her father. It had been two years since they last saw each other and the reconciliation brought tears to the eyes of everyone who witnessed the father- daughter reunion. Her father, it turned out, had long forgiven his daughter and was, in fact, starting to be proud of the fact that she was attaining stardom.

On the way back to Manila, Halina thanked the Startalk staff and me for arranging that reconciliation between her and her father. But she was still too shy to join us when we stopped over for snacks in ChowKing San Pablo, Laguna. Since I knew she has not taken anything else since that brief stop in Starbucks, I decided to buy her a box of Colette’s buco pie for which she thanked me profusely.

When the vehicle dropped me off at my house, I kissed her goodbye and gave her the usual showbiz ribbing: "Don’t forget me when you’ve become a big star." She flashed a weak smile.

Less than four years later, Halina Perez had become a full-fledged star. (I abhor her being tagged a sexy starlet.) Her movies may have been small production ventures, but she always got top billing in each of them.

More importantly, her films made money. Maybe because these were produced on small budgets and that made investors recover their capital quickly. It was precisely for this reason why, from 2001 until 2003, she always had a film showing in movie theaters practically every three or four months – unlike most other established stars whose film assignments were few and far between. (She could have been a bigger star had she been handled by any of the big movie companies like Regal, Viva and Seiko.)

In the beginning, I have to say that Halina’s performance was embarrassingly wooden. But in time – in Biglang-Liko – I noticed a tremendous improvement in her performance.

The last time I saw her was late last year when she went to Startalk to promote another one of her films. I noticed that she was more vibrant – no longer the shy, withdrawn girl I had accompanied on that long trip to Laguna almost four years ago.

As I write this, I’m making plans to return to Laguna to pay my final respects to Halina Perez. It’s going to be a lonely journey for me this time–even more painful on the way back.

And this time around, there will be no buco pie.