Stories are consumed for two reasons: to escape into another universe or to understand the existing world better through a reflection of reality. No matter the difference, they both require a suspension of disbelief to resonate with their audience; their screens offer a real immersion into the Japanese-occupied Philippines, modern-day Seoul, or a galaxy far far away. This is where the production crew comes in, to ensure every element of the script is executed in painstaking detail as they’re tasked to deliver what is often referred to as movie magic.
Most of the time the magic is remarkably obvious, from gigantic sets to explosive special effects to extravagant costumes. That said, other tricks work best when they operate inconspicuously, like specks of dirt on the face or strategic curls in the hair; seemingly minute details that actually indicate some sort of era, timeframe, or circumstance often glazed over by viewers precisely because they were made to be unnoticed. Such is the art of story glamor—contradictory to its name, it’s one of the few creative pursuits wherein artists know they’ve done a great job if their work draws no comment, melding seamlessly into the script’s status quo.
It might seem antithetical to the universal perception of hair and makeup. Under normal circumstances, they’re tools for beauty, and what is beauty but a sought-after quality that exists to be seen, scrutinized, and looked at? But in the movies, no one likes a pretty face that stays intact through hell and high water. Kathryn Bernardo’s acting alone, though critically acclaimed, couldn’t sell herself as a bone-weary domestic helper in Hong Kong without a little help from the glam or (in this case) de-glamming chair.
Hair and makeup artists are, themselves, storytellers; their brushes and blow-dryers are their pen and paint, the face their canvas. They can convey a thousand words and relay a scene unseen with a muss to the hair of a stringent official or shadows to the under eyes of a quintessential princess. On the surface, ordinary viewers might not think much of it, yet just like the creation of any art, the process is long and taxing but rewarding all the same. “Working in film involves no glamor at all whatsoever. You need to be ready to get your hands dirty and work on your knees sometimes,” says makeup artist Jopie Sanchez. Sanchez’s body of work involves a significant list of blockbusters like Jennylyn Mercado and Jericho Rosales’s #WalangForever, Carlo Aquino and Maine Mendoza’s Isa Pa With Feelings, and the Netflix number one film Lolo and the Kid. She’s grown under the tutelage of industry veteran Ara Fernando and has even trained with the same names who’ve done makeup for Hollywood superstars Leonardo DiCaprio and Mads Mikkelsen. It’s safe to say that she’s rubbed elbows with many a red carpet darling, and yet her real joy lies, not with the stars, but in the grit of the set. 
As the principal artist for the 2018 movie Mr. and Mrs. Cruz—set in the paradisical waters of Palawan—Sanchez learned to be itinerant, her workstation constantly shifting from one boat to another. “Resources would be limited and there’s no electricity so we really had to be resourceful to find a way to make things work,” she recalls of the experience. “I couldn’t bring a big kit with me because we were out at sea and all I could bring was what would fit in my dry bag. It was a lot of pressure on me… but I like challenges like that.”
Whether subject to the moods of nature or controlled in an enclosed space, the reality is TV and film sets are unpredictable: Scenes from yesterday need to be refilmed, heavy rains leave you stuck at sea, or explosions from the military exercises nearby find their way into an important shot. “You have to be on your toes a lot because an entire film set is not going to adjust for you and you need to work fast because time is limited,” says Sanchez. 
Resilience breeds character, and no revered professional ever earned their flowers playing it safe in their comfort zones, but the fact remains that some sets are friendlier and more accommodating than others. “Believe it or not, there are film sets that don’t feed their staff and crew properly,” Sanchez admits. Yuan Isles, a makeup artist who’s worked on Mano Po Legacy: Her Big Boss and Bola Bola, was once assigned to a whopping 18 actors in one day. When asked about an unforgettable memory on the job, his experience with Sanya Lopez having to come to his rescue came to mind. “She looked out for me,” he says. The story goes that the crew and the actors were put up in two different houses. With both holding rooms located on the second floor, Isles found himself engaging in a major workout session, going back and forth, up, down, and back again to do the touchups needed for the actress. Isles muscled through this irrational, exhausting routine over and over until Lopez finally spoke up for him to remain in her holding area instead. “You have to be a team player… We hold no powers on set and cannot make demands the way we would be able to on an editorial or glamorous shoot,” echoes Sanchez in her own interview.
Aside from unsightly conditions, the long working hours have caused many talented artists to suffer from burnout or to drop out of the industry altogether. Hairstylist G Mande, another former assistant of Ara Fernando, now prefers the slow wonders of weddings rather than the frantic energy of film sets. She explains, “Weddings are more relaxing for me and there’s a specific time being followed strictly. In movies, you have to spend at least 16 hours, and the pressure of working with limited time is really stressful. Being a hairstylist you have to be mindful as well especially since continuity plays a big part in the film.”
The film and TV industry have long been infamous for unregulated work hours, with shoots running for as long as the sun sets and rises again for a new day. Just this year, a law was finally passed to address this otherwise normalized problem, but not without a devastating loss first dealt to the Filipino film industry. In 2019, movie and TV legend Eddie Garcia suffered an injury after tripping on cable wires on the set of the GMA teleserye Rosang Agimat. At the age of 90, he passed two weeks later while still in a coma. Outrage from the accident led to the passing of the Eddie Garcia Law in May 2024, which “seeks to expand the protection of workers in the movie and television industry” by laying out safety conditions, regulating work hours, and making welfare benefits mandatory, among other provisions.
“I’m thankful to be part of sets that respect proper turnaround times in between shoot schedules,” expresses Sanchez after affirming that things have indeed gotten better since the law was introduced. “These days, they aim to push for the 16-hour shoot schedules which assures me that the threat of a burning out again is kept at bay.”
Without the imminent scare of filming fatigue every time they step on set, artists are given the headspace to zero in on their craft. After all, hair and makeup artists don’t just show up ready to paint whatever peg is thrown their way. A lot of research is done behind the scenes days or even weeks before showtime in order for the pros to execute their task in just under an hour or two. In her work for the 2014 Cinemalaya film K’na the Dreamweaver, the story of a young T’boli woman, Sanchez delved into the particulars of pre-colonial Philippines, not just for hair and makeup, but also for the tattoo designs that were native to that era.
The same meticulousness is expected in the theater, not just in adherence to the reality being shaped on stage, but because in the background, time is especially crucial. When it comes to live shows, there’s little room for error and backstage changes must be done at the snap of a finger. Nica Reyes, makeup artist for the mouthful Buruguduystunstugudunstuy: Ang Parokya ni Edgar Musical, shares that she often arrives at the venue five hours before the curtains go up. “Detailed face charts outlining hair and makeup styles, including specific color palettes, are then distributed to the makeup team,” relays Reyes. These charts are conceptualized by the head makeup artist beforehand as the one who’s expected to possess a deep understanding of all the characters and the ways in which they evolve throughout the play.
In this sense, everything about theater, and really the world of hair and makeup in general, requires collaboration. Hasty scene changes are achieved often because HMUAs place their trust on the skill of the actors, too, particularly if they themselves are capable of applying at least basic-level makeup. “In these instances, we assist them in transitioning to multiple characters in between quick scene changes, while maintaining makeup consistency and quality,” Reyes explains.
When so much of your art is made and sustained by your ability to help other artists look and feel the part, building relationships is essential if you want to pursue this job for a long time. All four creatives emphasize the value of having people skills in their line of work. Their nuggets of advice to aspiring creatives offer similar sentiments: Your attitude matters. Treat other people well and stay humble. Listen and be kind to your colleagues. Always be open to feedback. And the list goes on. Simple yet vital words to live by considering that the entertainment industry is a self-involved structure that thrives off connections. New hopefuls are constantly buzzing under the wings but only a select few are shown an open window, and still most of those who do make it are not given the recognition they have long rightfully earned.
To this day, hair and makeup are rarely allotted their own categories by award-giving bodies. In the Philippines, major film awards like FAMAS and Gawad Urian have overlooked the craft entirely, while the Metro Manila Film Festival has not granted a Best Make-Up Artist award since 2015. For all its demands to blend in with the faces that wear them, it seems the works of HMUAs are presenting a little too well that even the critics have forgotten they’re there in the first place and are deserving, too, of applause. Thus, as we fall at the feet of movie magic time and again, it’s high time we unveil the sorcery for what it really is. No wands are ever waved here, just the sheer grit, talent, and hard work of every film set’s fairy godmothers.
