Robin Padilla as the People of Asia

His jaw is clenched and his eyes are drawn in stern focus, and even as the dust swirls around him and into his eyes, he does not flinch. Overhead the noonday sun casts shadows on the tattoos and scars that decorate his skin. In the dusty, rugged terrain of an empty lot in The Fort for People Asia’s cover shoot, Robin Padilla, the ultimate bad boy and the alpha male, shows it takes more than just brawn to be a real man.

“A lot of people say that I’m a bad boy, a rebel without a cause. But from my own point of view, I can’t accept that it all wasn’t without a cause,” says Robin Padilla, the “Bad Boy of Philippine Cinema,” as he sips his nth cup of dark espresso. It’s an amusing sight: a towering man with equally long limbs balancing a small teacup like a thimble on his fingertips. As he reaches over and lays the espresso down on the table, his sleeve creeps up to reveal a scar-covered arm. Robin meets the writer’s eyes with his own stare and says, “Nasunog ako” before breaking into a boyish smile, which instantly sheds 10 years from his rugged face.

Robin explains that an explosive went awry during the shooting of his film Miss Na Miss Kita: Ang Utol Kong Hoodlum 2 in 1992, leaving him severely burned. During his treatment, the then 19-year-old became hooked on Demerol, a powerful painkiller. And that, according to his fans, marked the beginning of his downfall in the early part of his career.

At the time of the accident, Robin was already Viva Films’ top action star and his movie repertoire included a string of box office hits like Ang Anak ni Baby Ama, Ang Utol Kong Hoodlum, Grease Gun Gang, Bad Boy and Maging Sino Ka Man under Viva Films. (Showbiz runs in the blood, as Robin’s mother Eva Cariño and father, former Governor of Camarines Norte Roy Padilla Sr., were both stars in their day.)

As the money rolled in, Robin’s fame grew as well as his ego. Robin gained notoriety for his philandering, partying, drinking and drug use. His life—which was unraveling like a nonstop party—came to a screeching halt when Robin was sentenced to 17 to 21 years in prison for illegal possession of firearms. (This sentence was later reduced thanks to a new law, which lowered the penalty. Robin was released in 1998.)

For the “Bad Boy of Philippine Cinema,” it became a case of life imitating art. None of the villains and heroes he played in his movies could hold a candle to the real-life troubles that Robin dealt with, a friend says.

“But praise God that I was imprisoned,” Robin says with a stern face. “I don’t look back at that experience negatively. It was good for me. But of course I didn’t know that then, which is why namundok ako!” He chuckles. When the warrant of arrest was issued, Robin retreated to the mountains and joined the NPA in hiding. But after almost a month of dodging authorities, Robin eventually surrendered upon the pleading of his then wife Liezl Sicangco.

What made him surrender? Robin responds humbly, “I learned that you can’t fight for something you think is right when (the means) is wrong. You should fix yourself first.” It takes a big man to admit his mistakes and Robin is fully taking responsibility for his.