Isa Briones

Timid’s photoshoot with the ensemble cast of The Pitt is a historic milestone. Seven Asian actors together in a single frame is the most we’ve ever brought together for one story. This season, Timid’s theme is “Currents,” and you can feel that here. How forces shape a landscape over time, carried forward by generations of artists who pushed, persisted, and made space where there once was none.

If anyone understands that movement, it’s Isa Briones. Briones grew up in the wings. The daughter of Filipino theater icon Jon Jon Briones and actress Megan Briones, she represents a multi-generational current of talent. Her father’s career spans from the original West End ensemble of Miss Saigon to his own leading roles on Broadway. As such, Briones’s childhood involved learning the craft as a primary language. From starting as a model at age three to becoming the youngest performer in the first national touring company of Hamilton and eventually making her Broadway debut in Hadestown, Briones understands the grit required to move against the stream.

Now, she is in a current raising all boats. Her character of Dr. Trinity Santos on The Pitt is captivating to watch. When we first meet Santos in season one, she is strident and self-assured to a fault, a young doctor determined to prove she belongs but unsure how to let anyone get close enough to see the cracks. She deflects with humor, assigns nicknames no one asked for, and, when pushed, doesn’t hesitate to push back.

But ten months later in season two, that armor begins to chip. Set against the mounting pressures of a Fourth of July shift gone sideways, Santos is still acerbic at times, but she goes through a crucible that allows for vulnerability to shine through.

Timid Magazine: I’d love to start with the character building you did during that 10-month interim between season one and season two. What happened to Dr. Santos in that gap that we don’t necessarily see on screen, but that shaped your performance this year?

Isa Briones: There’s something easier about going from season one to season two than starting a whole new character from scratch. We left off in a very clear place: Whitaker [Gerran Howell] and Santos are now roommates. When we pick up, she’s no longer an intern; she’s an R2. That second year is notoriously hard. You’re the catch-all for the entire workload, you’ve got the pressure of bills to pay, and you’re always working. You can see the weight of that starting to pull her down.

Also, in those ten months, Langdon [Patrick Ball] has been gone. The writers and I talked about how no one explicitly knows the full story. Most people just know he went to rehab, which sounds commendable and wonderful, but they don't understand the part where he was stealing from the hospital. Because I was the one who blew the whistle, there’s a feeling that the environment isn't comfortable for her. People think, "Watch out for her; she’s trouble."

When you realize the last words Langdon spoke to her were, "You do not belong here," you see her insecurity. She puts up a massive wall, but she’s still fighting to feel like she belongs. It can be hard, but I think she kind of has reached this place of “fine, whatever, I'm the villain.” I think the relationship with Whitaker is kind of softening that a little bit. She doesn't want to admit it but she has found a friend in him. He's very there for her and she's very there for him. She really cares about him, and you see that more throughout the season. She would never admit it, but I think she sees him as like a brother. There's something healing about their friendship.

TM: It’s been interesting to track her arc. She’s having a rough, compounding kind of day, but we’re seeing moments of maturity rather than abrasiveness. How was it for you to play that growth?

IB: Her bedside manner has definitely improved. You see her with kids a lot this season, and I think she has a natural empathy because of the abuse she faced as a child. I think she's very attuned to that and sees herself in a lot of these kids. But I also think her not biting back comes from a place of sadness. You can also see allusions to her mental health struggles. That can kind of take away her bite a little bit because you just don't have the energy to fight back anymore.

The reintroduction of Langdon sparks a lot of the anxieties, anger, and uncomfortable feelings that she’s been carrying. That energy that’s been sitting there is now sparked again once he’s back, and she’s really trying to fight it off. They don’t talk to each other until episode 11, and you see everything that has been pent up. When you are carrying so much emotional baggage, it becomes too much to hold all the time. You have to let it dissipate a little bit, but it’s always there. I think that was a cool part of playing Santos this season. There’s so much going on underneath the surface. That’s true for every character. They’ve written really wonderful, meticulous characters and woven in these nuances so that we’re never lost in where we are emotionally. Even when we’re walking into a very medical scene and the words are just medicine, we can still act our emotions through it.

TM: I loved the moments with Santos caring for kids throughout the season. A standout was the Visayan lullaby you sing. How did that come together?

IB: The writers have always been really in tune with who they cast, and they want to make sure that the actors’ cultures match the characters they’re playing. That’s always been a conversation.

Scott Gemmill emailed me during season two and said, “We have this idea. How do you feel about it? Is there any lullaby that comes to mind?” I immediately called my dad because I was so excited. I asked him if he had any suggestions, and he threw around a few options, mainly Tagalog songs.

Then one day he called me and said, “Wait, I just remembered,” and he brought up this song. He said it was perfect for the story. It’s supposed to be sung by a maternal figure, like a big sister or aunt. The song is about how “Mom is away, she went to buy bread, but she’ll be back, and I’m here.” It’s such a heartbreaking sentiment for an abandoned child.

When I pitched it to them, they said, “Oh my God, this is perfect.” For people who know the meaning, it’s devastating. And for people who don’t, it invites them to look it up, which makes it even more impactful. It was a really, really cool moment. It’s been a running joke that I’m a musical theater girl, so they were like, “When is she going to sing?” But we found a really natural way to bring it in.

TM: Who has been a mentor for you on this show?

IB: I think the cool thing about this ensemble is that we really run the gamut of ages and backgrounds. It feels like you get mentorship from every which way. Noah is obviously  amazing. He's done this type of job before. He's so experienced at it and has a lot of pearls of wisdom. Then working with Shabana or Supriya, who are around my age, but are from vastly different backgrounds and different ways of thinking. We all get to come together and learn from each other in a really cool way. I've also been really grateful just for John Wells, because anytime he's directed, there's a simplicity to how he directs. Most of the time his direction is, “Calm down. You don't have to be doing too much.” When you're doing something that's this big and also that has become this big thing publicly, you can get in your head. He has helped me just calm down and sit in the reality of the show.

The addition of Sepi this season was so beautiful. My dad has actually worked with Sepi before. I'd always heard about her, and so when she came in, it just immediately felt like family. She's such a warm and nurturing and mentoring type of presence. I feel like I've learned a lot from watching her.

TM: I want to ask about the dynamic between Santos and Dr. Al-Hashimi [Sepideh Moafi]. It feels like Al-Hashimi is singling out Santos at times, especially with her charting. I think it’s an interesting choice from the writers to show this new person coming in, a woman of color and her not having an immediate positive connection with another woman of color.

IB: I think that’s kind of cool as well, because obviously, when you encounter another person—like if I encounter another Filipino person—you kind of think, “Oh, we’re going to have a connection.” But that’s not always the case, and that’s just life. People are people. Personalities don’t always mesh. With Al-Hashimi, she’s very by the book. Samira [Supriya Ganesh] and Javadi [Shabana Azeez] can be like that at times, but Santos is a bit of a renegade. As much as Isa is a girls’ girl, Santos has gravitated toward these guys who are more, “We’re the cowboys of the ER,” because they don’t always obey the rules. I think she vibes with that.

She also has a bit of a safe space in Robby [Noah Wyle], because he knows what happened with Langdon. He’s one of the only people who does. So there’s a camaraderie and trauma bond there.

Then this new attending comes in, and it’s threatening. It’s like, “Oh my God, I’m losing one of the only safe spaces I have here.” And now she wants me to be so by the book. It’s just more disruption to an already uncomfortable workplace. I also think their personalities just don’t fully mesh. But we’ve seen that Santos can soften. There’s vulnerability there. There’s a world where they could actually get along, it’s just these heightened circumstances. There’s a new attending, Langdon is back, everything is happening at once. It’s a crazy day.

TM: What has growing up in the performing arts space taught you and what’s something it could have never prepared you for?

IB: I went to a performing arts high school, and I grew up with parents who are musical theater people. My earliest memories are trick-or-treating in dressing rooms. I just grew up around theater people my whole life, and I love theater people.That instilled in me how important ensemble is, which really applies to this show.

As for what you don’t know until you’re in it. I think you can put a lot of pressure on yourself. In theater, there’s pressure because it’s live, and you have to do it right. But with TV, there’s a different kind of pressure. There are people above you, your bosses, just watching you. That’s really scary. You don’t really know how to deal with that until you’re in it. When I first started, I was 20, and my first TV show was Star Trek. It’s such a big franchise, and there was so much external pressure that I hadn’t experienced before. You don’t really know what that feels like until you’re there.

There was a moment where I had to tell myself, “Okay, all these people are looking at me and expecting something. They might even be expecting that I won’t work, and they could replace me.” And you just have to say, “I know why I’m here. I was hired for a reason.” That’s the only way to move through it. If you start believing doubt—internal or external—you’re fucked.

TM: Shabana said you’d be a good person to ask about this. Thinking about your background, your family, and the evolution of Asian representation, what does it mean to you to be part of this show and to see that growth over time?

IB: I get very emotional about it. Growing up watching my dad audition and try to build a career as an Asian man, it was so hard and often not rewarding. Just getting in the room or booking a job felt impossible at times. There were so many moments where he considered quitting because he had a family to support. And now, seeing the growth from him only being offered roles like a drug lord or a delivery man, to now playing a boss or a respected doctor, it’s been so beautiful.

To be part of that change is incredible. I’m a more white-presenting Asian person, so I also recognize that difference. But being on a show like this, where it’s not about your background or race, but about hiring the best people and then tailoring the role to who you are—that’s how it should be.

I just wish my dad had those opportunities earlier. I think he’s one of the best actors I’ve ever seen. And I think about what could have happened if he’d had these opportunities sooner. There’s still so much more to do, but being part of a show like this and finally seeing Filipinos represented in a medical setting, it’s long overdue. You go to any hospital in this country, and your nurse is probably Filipino. That’s just reality.

There was a moment last season where we had a scene directed by an Asian woman, with Filipino characters speaking Tagalog. It was just a simple slice-of-life moment, but it felt powerful. It showed the full spectrum of what being Asian means. For so long, there were only a few narrow definitions of what Asian representation looked like. Now we’re able to just be ourselves, and that’s incredibly freeing.

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This interview is one in a series with the ensemble cast of The Pitt.