BlackBook Magazine

Actor Eduardo Verástegui looks back on life as a Latino pop sensation and womanizing underwear model, determined to start fresh.

“After four years of turning down every offer I was given, I went bankrupt. I didn’t even have enough money to pay my rent,” says Eduardo Verástegui, the star of last year’s Bella, a People’s Choice Award winner at the Toronto International Film Festival. The film, which centers on a day in the life of a professional soccer player past his prime and a pregnant waitress considering abortion, was a smash hit on the festival circuit. For Verástegui, a former underwear model and boy-band sensation, it was so much more.

His story begins in the rural Mexican town where he was born. Raised by a family of farmers, he concedes that culture played a significant role in his upbringing. His grandfather was a painter and writer, while other family members worked as writers, composers, and singers. Surprisingly, he decided to study law—for two semesters.

At 18, he left school for Mexico City to pursue acting. Shortly thereafter, Verástegui, often referred to as “Mexico’s Brad Pitt,” was traveling the world with his pop group Kairo, starring in popular Televisa novelas, and modeling skivvies for Versace and Calvin Klein. Despite the success, he wasn’t fulfilled. He explains, “One day, somebody asked me, ‘What kind of man would you like your sisters to marry?’ And I described that man as honest, loyal, and respectful. And he said, ‘Are you that man?’ And I couldn’t say a word, because no, I wasn’t that man.”

His was a life of women, parties, and deceit. It was exciting to be sure, but Verástegui felt guilty about perpetuating the Latin Don Juan stereotype both on and off camera.

On a flight from Miami to Los Angeles, where he landed without a safety net at the age of 28, Verástegui had a chance encounter with a casting director for Twentieth Century Fox, who suggested he audition for a starring role in Chasing Papi. It was another lady-killer part. It was an English-speaking role, and he only knew a few words. Still, he tried out, memorized the script, and eventually won the part.

The guilt associated with his public persona and private life only worsened, and it was during the release of this film that Verástegui cut short his burgeoning career. He says, “I made a promise to myself six years ago that I would never again use my talents to do anything that would offend my faith, my family, or my culture. And if the price of this new path is to end up selling tacos in Mexico, I was okay with that.” Honor aside, Verástegui found himself penniless, homeless, and without a career.

This, he explains, was rock bottom—not some soap opera version involving needles and gritty bathroom tiling—but an awakening nonetheless. “There was no specific moment where, you know, I went to jail or killed somebody,” he says. “It wasn’t like that, thank God. It was just a very simple conversation—a very profound and deep, meaningful conversation with a friend.”

Film still from Bella.

Verástegui, of course, is not selling tacos in Mexico. Last year, Bella, his most recent film, which was released today on DVD, broke American box office records for a “film with Latino themes.” Looking back on his past life, one that seems worlds apart from where he is today, what is his biggest regret?

Pause. And then a deep inhale on the other end of the phone. “I did a soap opera a long time ago,” he says. “My character was a drug addict, and for nine months, for an hour every show, he was getting high. By the end of the series, he goes to jail, learns his lesson, and gets better. But that only happened in the last week of the show. One day, when I was in Miami, someone told me, ‘I wanted to let you know that I started doing drugs because of your show.’ And this was just one guy. How many more were there? How many families were destroyed because of that?”