Regarding the jobs she’s been offered, Vergara remarked, “It’s hard because this accent is beautiful, but it’s like, I cannot be a scientist, I cannot be an astronaut.”
Though actress Sofía Vergara has also been known for her beauty and melodious accent, she was initially resolved to get rid of the latter over fears her speech would limit the opportunities that would come her way.
The 51-year-old Griselda actor said, “I cannot take this accent away no matter what,” while talking about the parts she has been offered since her days on Modern Family. She also stated that she didn’t want to play her character “Gloria [Pritchett] again” in another comedy series.
“I tried when I first started my career,” she recounted during the drama actress round table hosted by The Hollywood Reporter. “I couldn’t believe Salma Hayek or Penélope Cruz didn’t change their accents—they would have had so many more opportunities—when I first went to Los Angeles. I’m going to carry it out.
Then, Vergara continued, “I wasted so much money and time with people teaching me, and it was a f—ing waste.”
The actress talked candidly about the challenges she had landing a serious part after playing Gloria, a Colombian bombshell and single mother, on the ABC sitcom for 11 years.
She said, “It was almost like playing myself.” “In my entire life, I never attended an acting class. It’s difficult for me to change my direction since, although my accent is lovely, I feel like I can’t be an astronaut or a scientist.
She did more than just hire a dialect coach as a preventative step to advance her career. Vergara said that she has never lied to “get a job,” but she did admit that she has “lied to my agents so they would take me when I moved to L.A.”
“I said I could sing and dance. Why not? She giggled, “I didn’t think they were going to send me out.” “After that, they sent me to a Broadway audition in Chicago.”
She was cast in the role of “I played Mama Morton in Chicago,” in spite of her first worries.
Vergara stunned viewers with her portrayal of Miami drug queenpin Griselda Blanco in Netflix’s Griselda, despite the fact that she may be best known for her comedic roles.
During an appearance on former costar Jesse Tyler Ferguson’s Dinner’s on Me podcast, the actress remarked on having “a lot of similarities” to the drug lord and how her own family’s experiences with sorrow informed how she handled the character.
Sadly, Vergara’s elder brother, who had been in the drug trade for a while, “was killed in Colombia in the ’90s.”
Thus, I believed I comprehended a good deal of those topics. I understood that business, I understood that woman, and so I felt it was a really interesting character,” she said, noting that she didn’t approach the role looking for “a character to prove that I can be a tragic actress.”
She continued, “I felt that it had to be someone that I kind of, like, knew who she was.”
I Allowed a Homeless Woman to Stay in My Garage—One Day I Walked in Unannounced and Was Shocked by What I Saw
I tapped the steering wheel, trying to shake the weight on my chest, when I spotted a disheveled woman digging through a trash can. I slowed down, drawn in by her grim determination.
She looked fragile yet fierce, fighting for survival. Without thinking, I pulled over, rolled down my window, and asked, “Do you need help?”
Her response was sharp but tired: “You offering?”
“I just saw you there,” I admitted, stepping out. “It didn’t seem right.”
“What’s not right is life,” she scoffed, crossing her arms. “You don’t strike me as someone who knows much about that.”
“Maybe not,” I replied, then asked if she had a place to stay.
“No,” she said, and I felt compelled to offer my garage as a temporary home. To my surprise, she accepted, albeit reluctantly.
Over the next few days, we shared meals and conversations. Lexi’s sharp wit broke through my loneliness, but I could sense her hidden pain.
One afternoon, I barged into the garage and froze. There, sprawled across the floor, were grotesque paintings of me—chains, blood, a casket. Nausea hit me.
That night, I confronted her. “What are those paintings?”
Her face went pale. “I didn’t mean for you to see them. I was just… angry.”
“So you painted me as a monster?” I demanded.
She nodded, shame in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
I struggled to forgive her. “I think it’s time for you to go.”
The next morning, I helped her pack and drove her to a shelter, giving her some money. Weeks passed, and I felt the loss of our connection.
Then, a package arrived—another painting. This one was serene, capturing a peace I hadn’t known. Inside was a note with Lexi’s name and number.
My heart raced as I called her. “I got your painting… it’s beautiful.”
“Thank you. I didn’t know if you’d like it,” she replied.
“You didn’t owe me anything,” I said, reflecting on my own unfairness.
“I’m sorry for what I painted,” she admitted. “You were just… there.”
“I forgave you the moment I saw that painting. Maybe we could start over.”
“I’d like that,” she said, a smile evident in her voice.
We made plans to meet again, and I felt a flicker of hope for what could be.
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