This interview includes spoilers about the plot of “Triangle of Sadness.”
LOS ANGELES — Humble though not self-deprecating, the actress Dolly de Leon speaks of the shortcomings in her process with a casual matter-of-factness that makes her sincerity clear. “I really do poorly at auditions,” she confessed.
Despite her assessment, she clearly did well enough at one of them: At 53, the Filipina veteran of theater, television and film in her home country is enjoying international attention for her trope-defying role in the class satire “Triangle of Sadness,” in theaters Friday.
De Leon plays Abigail, a crew member on a luxury cruise ship carrying entitled oligarchs and fashion models. After things go awry, her practical skills are much more valuable than wealth or beauty on a seemingly deserted island.
The multinational ensemble piece, which features Woody Harrelson, Harris Dickinson and the late Charlbi Dean, earned the top prize, the Palme d’Or, at the Cannes Film Festival in June. There, Indiewire described de Leon’s performance as “bold and heartsick,” while Screen Daily praised her for “playing it canny and ruthless.”
But when the film’s writer-director, Ruben Ostlund, traveled to the Philippines in 2019 to cast the pivotal role, de Leon couldn’t fathom that she would get the job — in part because of her troubled relationship with auditions. Yet Ostlund recalled being impressed with her playfulness in a romantic scene they tried. Her lack of expectations probably played to her advantage.
“I’m just an actor who needs the work,” de Leon said. “Whatever the role was, it was just another job for me. But, of course, I knew there was prestige attached to it because it was Ruben,” and she had seen his art-world satire, “The Square,” which won the Palme d’Or in 2017.
Interested in inverting the power dynamics between the superrich and those underpaid to serve them, Ostlund found de Leon’s transformation from shipboard housekeeping staffer to authoritative captain ashore to be searingly convincing. “In very few scenes you have to buy that she is taking control of this group,” he said via video call.
De Leon explained: “I admire Abigail because she just took it upon herself to be in charge without asking for approval from anyone. If I were in her situation, I’d probably still be following people around.”
Sitting in a hotel meeting room in West Hollywood during a recent interview, de Leon, in a white top and tennis shoes and light bluejeans, exuded a relaxed energy while occasionally inhaling from a minuscule vape.
A native of Manila, she traced her acting epiphany to a grade-school skit. A teacher asked students to pretend their mother had died. In that tragic scenario, she found a therapeutic outlet for her real, long-suppressed emotions.
“It felt so good because at home we weren’t allowed to cry,” she explained. “It was liberating. And after that, I was hooked.”
As a theater arts student at the University of the Philippines Diliman, de Leon played extras on TV until parts with dramatic substance gradually came her way. “I wasn’t choosy. I would take any role that was offered to me,” she said. Meanwhile, the stage — her first love — provided greater artistic challenges.
With time, cinema also became an option as she developed a following as a character actor in projects involving top local talent. One director, the celebrated Filipino auteur Lav Diaz, cast her in his 2019 film, “The Halt,” based solely on her reputation. Back then, he had not seen any of her performances.
“Here in the Philippines, she’s earned that imprimatur, that status, that level of respect already,” Diaz said via email of his blind trust in de Leon. The two would collaborate again on “History of Ha” (2021), a period drama about a famed puppeteer.
Unlike Ostlund, who requests anywhere from 30 to 70 takes per shot, Diaz does only one take per setup, tacitly asking his cast for hyper focus.
“When I say I trust an actor, the fundamental transcriptions of that act are responsibility and commitment,” Diaz explained. “An affirmation of that would be an actor’s eventual portrayal. All I can say is that Dolly is amazing in ‘Ha’ and great in ‘Triangle of Sadness.’”
In Ostlund’s biting comedy, de Leon embraced the task of dignifying a character who essentially represents the millions of Filipinos working abroad to support their families back home.
“To a lot of Filipinos, they’re heroes because they bring dollars into our country and boost the economy,” she added.
For de Leon, “Triangle of Sadness” isn’t only about financial inequality but also about physical attractiveness as currency, illustrated by Abigail’s transactional affair with a model (Dickinson). Their encounters were de Leon’s first-ever onscreen love scenes.
That Abigail’s abilities to fish and make fire turn her into a leader in this microcosm demonstrates, de Leon said, that authority can take many forms.
“We often feel so powerless in this world because we’re surrounded by beauty, fame and money,” she explained. “We forget that no matter how less privileged you are, you still hold a certain power in the world that we can harness to our advantage.”
By putting someone unexpected in a position of power, however, Ostlund wanted to examine whether abuses would occur. “There’s a possibility that it really corrupts her,” he said of Abigail.
In the film’s open-ended conclusion, Abigail faces a dilemma about whether to protect her status. Ostlund zeroed in on de Leon’s face for dozens of takes.
“I could feel this was the scene that Dolly had been charging for during the whole production,” Ostlund said. “Dolly has a fox behind her ear, as we say in Sweden. That is to say that she is not who you expect.”
Initially, de Leon tackled that moment with a version of Abigail determined to use force. But ambiguity and doubt ultimately rendered the scene psychologically richer.
“We tried a different approach where she’s at a crossroads and is torn,” she said, adding, “It was ultimately a better choice in that it highlighted Abigail’s humanity.”
As de Leon looks ahead at the possibility of collaborating with American and European storytellers, she remembered Dean, who died in August. It was her friend Dean who encouraged her to get a manager to expand her professional horizons.
“I really feel the loss of her while I’m in L.A. because she used to live here,” de Leon said. “I imagine that if she were still with us, she would be sitting next to me doing this interview.”
The Cannes reception to her performance still astounds de Leon. But even if her children playfully mock her newfound profile in the West, she maintains a modest outlook.
“What an incredible feeling to experience something like this, however late in life,” she said. “I’m not in my 20s anymore, so this happened at the perfect time because my head is not up in the clouds. I’m more grounded as a person and as an actor. If I were younger, I’d be acting like I’m better than everyone,” she said with an unassuming laugh.
