FACE TO FACE WITH

Mònica Pérez, comedian

Mònica Pérez: “Effort is a subject in its own right—just like the craft of acting, a craft that’s slowly being lost”

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David Rabadà

Mònica Pérez, a lifelong comedian, has stood out in shows like Buenafuente, Homozapping, and Polònia, as well as in TV series such as La que se avecina and La Lola. We’ve also seen her in episodes of El Cor de la Ciutat, La Riera, and Lo Cartanyà. But beyond TV, she’s graced the stage in plays like Una nit d’òpera, Pel davant i pel darrere, Confessions de dones de 30, La família irreal, Hitchcock, la comèdia, Escape Room, Cunyades, and L’Èxit de la temporada. She’s also made her mark in films like Tapas by José Corbacho, both instalments of Padre no hay más que uno by Santiago Segura, and Escape Room by Joel Joan and Hèctor Claramunt.

What’s less well-known—though no less important—is her work as a writer. Her humorous novel Abans no eres així (Penguin Random House) is just one example. She’s also written comedies like Hitchcock la comèdia, Doo Wop Club, 1001 Gags, Les Dones de Frank, Pararapapa, Tinc 50 anys i soc dona, among others. So, it was only a matter of time before she joined us on ‘Face to Face’—the one and only Mònica Pérez.

Comedy’s been with you for ages. From your childhood beginnings to playing Princess Cristina on TV3’s Polònia—a lot’s happened! But when did you first start acting? And more importantly, what did it feel like?
My very first memory on stage is playing a tree in a Christmas pageant. I wasn’t doing anything—and yet people laughed. It was the closest thing to the magic of Christmas Eve. I’d always told my parents I wanted to be an actress and a writer when I grew up, but that night I knew for sure: the stage was home.

If you were already making people laugh at six, how did you feed that comedic drive during your late teens? Who did you do theatre with?
I did theatre both in Barberà del Vallès, where I grew up, and in Sant Feliu de Pallerols, where we had a house. Wherever I was, I joined all the amateur troupes I could find. I wanted to learn the craft.

So, by eighteen you were already creating comedy characters.
At 18, I was combining a job at a veterinary clinic and another at a fruit stall in the market, while studying at the Theatre Institute in Terrassa, where I invented lots of characters inspired by those day jobs.

“At 18, I was combining a job at a veterinary clinic and another at a fruit stall in the market, while studying at the Theatre Institute in Terrassa”

But you once admitted to being very shy — so, what changed?

I only lasted a year at the Theatre Institute. I realised I wasn’t going to let anyone treat me badly just because I was reserved. Shyness, for those who know it, hides vast creative worlds. 

How did you meet theatre friends like David Fernández, aka Eurovision’s Chikilicuatre? What ads did you do together?
It was thanks to Candela Peña, who told me about the Nancy Tuñón acting school where she was studying. I enrolled, met David there, and we started doing daily TV spots for “Colacao” with Teresa Raval and Consuelo Berlanga. David and I have really grown up in the profession together. We toured together, did my play Quién dijo que tenía cara de pájaro, and then he said, “Let’s audition for La Cubana”.

And…?
Well, we got in! From there, we both ended up on Buenafuente and Homozapping. We’re actors, yes, but also mates—and that’s not always easy.

But you had to go to castings to level up. Being a woman in comedy—and if I may, an attractive one—must’ve clashed with the old-fashioned Iberian stereotype. Like with the great Lina Morgan. Did that make things harder for you, or were producers already looking for your kind of profile?
It was harder than just trying to make a living as an actor. Even now, no one really gets why I’ve only ever wanted to be a comic actress. I want to defend comedy and make people laugh. But it’s a genre that’s hard to reconcile with women who have a certain look. I think I’m the only comic actress who’s never wanted to do anything else—and I’ve never minded when people asked, “When are you going to do something serious? When are you going to play a dramatic role? You’ll never win an award this way”. But for me, the real prize is hearing people laugh. That sound of joy from the audience. That’s what I work for—not for the industry.

“I think I’m the only comic actress who’s never wanted to do anything else—and I’ve never minded when people asked, “When are you going to do something serious?”

Is it really harder to make people laugh than to make them cry?
Absolutely. I’ve always said that making people laugh is harder. But people still seem to think drama is more “professional” than comedy.

Who’s funnier, men or women?
That’s another battle. I’ve had to fight to prove that women can be just as funny—if not more so—than men. People still struggle with the idea that a good-looking woman can also master humour. I’ve never thought of myself as a stunner—I was the “fun one” in my group—but apparently, even that made me invisible as a comic in some people’s eyes. We’re still fighting to prove they are wrong.

Despite all the sexism and stereotypes in theatre roles, you’ve always flipped the script, haven’t you?
Definitely. I had to prove I could play any role just as well as guys. And when I was only offered roles as mums, wives, nurses or mistresses, I gave each one a unique comic twist.

Was working with La Cubana a dream come true?
It really was! La Cubana was my “Hollywood”. I was a huge fan of Mont Plans, who became my artistic godmother. When I finally got in, I couldn’t believe I was part of that company’s legacy. And when people talk about La Cubana, their faces light up—and I was part of that magic.

Did it take a lot of work?
Loads. Like everyone at La Cubana, I suffered—but I learnt so much about the craft. Maybe that’s why, sadly, the profession is getting lost. It takes too much effort for today’s fast-paced world.

How did you get into La Cubana?
I was working as a hostess and went to the interview all dolled up. Jordi Milán had some doubts based on my looks—but luckily, I looked a bit like young Sophia Loren, and they needed an Italian! During the audition, he saw I had La Cubana in my blood.

You worked with Andreu Buenafuente on La Cosa Nostra, again with David Fernández. Another dream come true?
Totally. I used to say I’d never leave La Cubana unless Andreu himself invited me onto his show. And that’s exactly what happened. At the audition, I was so nervous I saw a life-size cut-out of him in the hallway and lost a shoe in shock.

“At the audition, I was so nervous I saw a life-size cut-out of him in the hallway and lost a shoe in shock” 

And then…?
I auditioned half barefoot. And just to paint the full picture—someone on the team (thankfully, no longer working there) welcomed me by saying: “You’d better be funny, love, ‘cause you’re the ugliest one here”. That’s when I realised, I had to really bring it. The best parts were always given to the men. Luckily, Andreu believed in me—as a performer and a writer of gags.

You’ve worked with big TV producers like Gestmusic (La que se avecina) and El Terrat (Comando a distancia with David Fernández, Edu Soto, and Jordi Ríos). Smells a lot like Polònia, doesn’t it?
I’ve been lucky enough to work with some of the best producers and top-rated shows. It’s an honour. I’ve met childhood idols along the way—and it’s wild to go from admiring someone to being their colleague. I’ve learnt from the greats—and the not-so-greats, as you can learn from wickedness too. There’s no bigger disappointment than when your hero lets you down. And yes, all that eventually led me to Polònia.

But you only played one character on Polònia, right?
Yes—just the Infanta Cristina. So, if Polònia were a block of flats, I only ever rented a holiday apartment—I wasn’t part of the permanent community.

What about La Família Irreal with the Polònia crew? Must’ve come with its fair share of juicy stories. Any calls from the Zarzuela? Were you all being watched? Go on, tell me!
Oh, I’m sure we were! Back when I played Letizia Ortiz on Un altre cosa with Toni Albà as the King and Edu Soto as Prince Felipe, we were told the three of us were being watched. So, imagine what it was like when we did La Família Irreal, spoofing the entire royal family!

Was it hard coming up with good gags?
The real royal family was moving faster than we were! Honestly, it felt like they were writing the gags for us. Reality outdid fiction.

What about taking La Família Irreal to Madrid?
Despite the bravery of Dagoll Dagom and Minoria Absoluta, and the amazing commitment of the cast, the show stayed in Catalonia.

Why?
No actor dared perform it in Madrid. Around here, we know how to laugh at ourselves. In Madrid… well, the King doesn’t quite share the joke.

Listening to everything you’ve done in comedy—a path many wouldn’t even dare to start—what does the word “effort” mean to you?
I believe effort is a subject in itself—just like acting, a craft that’s slowly disappearing. I always say success isn’t being recognised everywhere for a while; it’s consistently having work. You might have great talent, but what really matters is seeing your name come up in casting calls, working regularly, earning the respect and consideration of those who hire you—and, ultimately, being well-regarded by the press. If, on top of that, your peers value you, want you around, and your presence brings confidence and joy to the team, all of that comes down to effort.

“Nowadays, everyone wants things quickly and with minimal commitment. But this world gives back what you give it. If you give it time, love and effort—it will reward you”

Effort in what, exactly?
In learning lines, getting better, showing up on time, being a good colleague, taking care of costumes, props, sets, lights… Being a true professional takes effort. And effort takes time. Nowadays, everyone wants things quickly and with minimal commitment. But this world gives back what you give it. If you give it time, love and effort—it will reward you.

There’s this awful cliché that theatre people were bad students. What do you say to that?
Not true in my case. I’ve always been a good student. I got good grades, though it never came easy. My sister Gemma didn’t have to study much—I always had to put in extra hours after school.

What didn’t you like about school?
School itself! I always say, if I’m born again, let me be a child prodigy with a private tutor. That said, as an actress and a writer, you never stop learning. Maybe I’m not the quickest, but I do it with love and dedication.

So, you were disciplined and hard-working from a young age. Does it annoy you when others don’t try?
Oh yes. Effort, perseverance, and discipline matter even more than talent.

Do you see a link between your projects and that mindset of effort you had as a student?
Totally. In this job, the more you know, the better. I’ve always been disciplined—I want to do things well. That’s how I was brought up, with the values of effort and discipline.

“I believe that values, enthusiasm, and attention to small details have been lost; they find it hard to envision a future, and I’m worried that this may no longer be conveyed to them at school”

What would you change in today’s education system?
I’m currently writing the scripts for a TV show called “Zona Escolar”, and it has made me realise that the education system has changed a lot. While researching new techniques, I’ve noticed that nowadays each student is considered individually; not everyone is treated the same. They teach teamwork, the importance of valuing the planet, animals, and the artistic side of things… I was quite surprised. Although I work with young people, and besides having nieces and nephews and knowing their friends, when you listen to the new generations and their problems, you’re not quite sure how to help them. I believe that values, enthusiasm, and attention to small details have been lost; they find it hard to envision a future, and I’m worried that this may no longer be conveyed to them at school. They seem happy, but I don’t really see them as happy—I notice they’re always in a hurry and worried. Teachers! Can we do something?

Any upcoming comedy projects you can tell us about?
I’m never doing just one thing! I’m always buzzing! I’m currently touring five comedies: Cunyades, Bingo Banda, VivÄ, Hitchcock la comèdia, and 1001 gags. I’m also putting together the fifth Faustina Micro-Theatre Festival, finishing a musical comedy, and getting ready to shoot two films—both comedies, of course.

Mònica, I’ve seen a woman who’s overcome hurdles, made dreams come true, and shattered stereotypes. I’m guessing you’ve already planted a tree, but what about writing a book?
I’ve written one already—Abans no eres així, published by Rosa dels Vents (Penguin Random House). It’s a humorous story about overcoming adversity. And I’m writing another one as we speak. Didn’t I say I can’t stop?

You’ve got a gift—and it’s taken you far.
Maybe—but I’m not exactly in the top ten of comic names. And to be honest, after all the effort I’ve put in to be the best professional I can be, that sometimes makes me a bit sad. But then I remember what people say when they see me in a play or stop me in the street: “Girl, we just have to look at you and we laugh!”
So yes—if I’ve got that gift, I’ll use it to make everyone laugh. Always.

Source: educational EVIDENCE

Rights: Creative Commons