Davao Conyo: Portrait of an Introvert As Internet Star
The comic on growing up gay, his nearly 7-M followers, and the need to be alone.
(SPOT.ph) Phillip Hernandez is the antithesis of Davao Conyo. Where Davao Conyo shape-shifts into nameless wig-wearing characters in dresses, Hernandez vanishes in the crowd in jeans and a plain black t-shirt. Where Davao Conyo whines like a middle-class millennial possessed by Maricel Soriano, Hernandez keeps his opinions to himself. Where Davao Conyo spins and cartwheels with the energy of a cheerleader, Hernandez poses for photos with a subdued grin and the posture of a sidekick.
Davao Conyo is an internet star with nearly 7 million followers, but Phillip Hernandez, who breathes life to Davao Conyo, prefers to be alone. At one point in our conversation, he autofocuses on the zipper of my bag and says, “That’s what I want to become. People need zippers but they don’t talk about zippers.”
But the porcelain-skinned boy next door is hardly as dull as a zipper. As the lone actor, scriptwriter and video editor of his own content creation empire, the 32-year-old is a comedic and marketing genius, and, arguably, a cultural force with a flair for mimicking our generation’s collective character quirks.
His first upload in 2017—a clip from the 2013 film Four Sisters and a Wedding which he rewrote and dubbed in Davao Tagalog (hence the Davao Conyo name) became viral within 24 hours, earning him a million views in a span of a week. Upon saving up ₱100,000 from his content, he quit his day job as a home-based virtual assistant, focused on being a full-time creator, and eventually moved to Manila. He had a million followers before the TikTok comedy scene exploded during the pandemic, and after he transitioned to performing one-man skits, he became a household name practically overnight.
Throughout this meteoric rise, Hernandez hasn’t stepped out of his home in a costume or a wig. He's never performed a standup act live, nor hosted an event.
His videos are a peek into a private role-play session, where the only witness is his phone’s front camera. It is an intimate process—not even his boyfriend is allowed to watch the artist at work. He values his privacy so much, he is highly selective about press interviews, only granting access to people he has vetted over a period of time, sometimes a year.
But this fixation with compartmentalization is also an act of self-preservation: Phillip Hernandez as an introvert sustains Davao Conyo as an extrovert. Davao Conyo without Phillip Hernandez is a comic without a pulse. He is its soul and sole reason for being. It is only through Phillip Hernandez, and all the versions he has been and will become, that Davao Conyo can become its true, authentic self.
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Living in his thoughts
If a person’s career choice is a culmination of their development throughout life, Davao Conyo is the end-product of Phillip Hernandez’s upbringing as an eldest child in a “semi-Chinese” family of five (his mother is half-Chinese, his father is Chavacano), who knew early on he was gay.
“I just always knew that I had my own version of storytelling kasi lumaki akong bakla,” he said. “At a very young age, sobrang conscious na ako sa galaw ko. Kaya naging sobrang observant at sobrang self-critical ako. And in return, naging critical din ako about other people.”
This high level of sensitivity has become his secret weapon, allowing him to observe and point out flaws about people’s behavior.
“Judgmental ako kasi lumaki ako sa isang mundong judgmental din. Kailangan kong i-outjudge yung world," he says with a laugh.
Hernandez grew up as a Pinoy pop culture junkie, whose influences include Roderick Paulate, Maricel Soriano, Claudine Barretto, Judy Ann Santos, Marvin Agustin and Jolina Magdangal.
But as a child, Hernandez balanced his leisure time with school. He was consistently in the honors’ section—early signs of genius, some may say, but also a tactic to distract his family away from his gayness. But although he describes himself as a people-pleaser, he avoided further roles as a student leader—early signs, he surmises, of his introversion. “I always declined leadership roles. I never saw myself as a leader. Anything that involves taking care of other people, out ako dyan. Kaya when people ask me, bakit wala kang editor? Bakit wala kang team? Nako-conscious ako to lead people kasi feeling ko malaking responsibility.”
But aloneness is Hernandez’s superpower. “Pag introvert ka, you spend a lot of time sa sarili mong thoughts,” Hernandez said. He keeps a notebook where he jots down story ideas, based on actual scenarios from everyday life. These real-life examples then become fictionalized, written in a flawless script devoid of references to actual people.
While his sixty-second skits seem effortless, he spends one full day to write a singular one-minute script. His manager, as well as his loved ones, understand this process and leave him to it: he needs to be on his own and take big breaks to people-watch. He takes all the time he needs to polish his script, research the nuances of his fictional characters and time the punchlines perfectly. Shooting is an entirely different task for another day. He also does his own editing.
“There are a lot of things that I can’t say in public, so I write them in my skits,” he said. “I wish I had the confidence to do standup comedy, but I can’t. The attention that I get online, [I won't be able to handle] that in public. Protective layer ko yung characters.”
Davao Conyo's ‘room temperature’ humor
Davao Conyo’s characters are nameless—transcending the confines of fixed identities.
Hernandez took his elementary education at Davao Christian High School, a prestigious institution reserved for the southern city’s old-rich. When their family eventually welcomed his two younger sisters, he was demoted to a slightly more humble private school, where he expanded his perspective about social class. For college, he received a Jesuit education at the Ateneo de Davao University, where he majored in Marketing.
As a result, Davao Conyo’s characters are mostly middle class, and run the full gamut of personalities (he has a mastery of all 12 Zodiac signs). His plots often center on middle-class woes, such as the painful initiation of ordering at a steak house for the first time.
@davaoconyo ♬ original sound - DavaoConyo
“Ang market ko, nasa gitna siya,” says Hernandez. “Between aircon and kanal, I can say that my humor is room temperature.”
This audience segmentation is not only based on his familiarity with the subject, but also because of his principles. “When criticizing people, I believe in punching up, not down,” he explains, referring to the comedy tradition of making fun of people with more privilege and power than attacking those who are already marginalized.
“Gusto ko mag-evoke ng feelings through my skits, pero good vibes,” he says. “For example, I make fun of utang, pero hindi ko rin sinasagad kasi I don’t want my work to come up as nangma-mata ng tao.”
Hernandez is a mama’s boy—a facet that manifests in his content that pokes fun, endearingly, at mothers who forget their passwords but never where they keep their tupperware. On his mom’s recent birthday, he took a flight to Davao to take her to Pearl Farm Beach Resort in Samal. When his mom is in Manila, he clears his schedule to bring her around. When away, he would also sometimes send food to her rosary group, the Rosary Buddies.
This closeness to a God-fearing mother, as well as being educated at Catholic/Christian schools all his life, has perhaps influenced Hernandez’ moral compass. He takes delicate care in striking a balance between funny and offensive, and cautiously avoids content that will cause polarization. He previously deleted a video that led to disagreements in the comments section. He has also declined offers that would involve him appearing online with controversial cast members.
“May sariling meter ako na pag sumosobra na 'to, I have to scale it down,” he says. “I don’t like posting polarizing content because it defeats the purpose of making people happy.”
This compass also extends to his judgment about promoting products. He never promotes anything he doesn’t use. Hence, even if he has a large share of followers who are mothers, you will never see promotions for diapers or baby food in his content. Big-name brands have approached him but he politely said no.
He also previously turned down a ₱1.2 million-worth offer because he would not allow a brand to place their logo in the first few seconds of his skit. As a child whose advertising consciousness was shaped by Fita Crackers’ “Sports car! Yung red!” commercial, Hernandez has big ideas about telling a brand’s story. He doesn't like hardselling and instead believes in the power of a compelling narrative.
“Lagi ko ito pinapaglaban. I don’t want brands to feel na ‘I paid you, so do what I want you to do,’” said Hernandez, who also co-owns the Davao-based digital marketing agency The Other Guys. “I never saw it like that. You’re paying me so that I will introduce you to my audience. I am the best person who knows how to talk to them.”
Not a fanboy
But despite Davao Conyo’s commitment to his audience, he also prefers to put up boundaries: “I don’t talk about my family, I don’t post about my boyfriend. I don’t want [the audience] to be curious about my personal life. I want na ito lang—enjoy my work.”
Perhaps it stems from trauma: In 2020, Hernandez posted a tweet critical of former President Rody Duterte who, like him, hails from Davao. What ensued was a barrage of hate messages mostly from troll accounts and fanatics, a few even calling for him to be declared persona non grata in his own hometown.
From then on, he vowed to keep a healthy distance from the online world. He has also since locked his account on X.
“‘Pag may nagtatanong sa’kin kung kailan ako magfa-fan meet, sinasabi ko, hindi ko talaga kaya,” he says. “I’m not a ‘fanboy’ type of person. I like music, I like movies, pero ‘di ako nagfi-fixate sa people. I just don’t have it in my DNA. I appreciate, pero hindi ‘idol levels’. And I understand na nagiging barrier din yun for me from understanding where some of my followers are coming from. Kaya siguro wala akong ‘cult following’—yung parang the type of follower na kahit problematic ka na, they will defend you.”
But this anti-fanaticism is what makes Davao Conyo a foil to the idols glorified by a society obsessed with celebrity. Unlike content creators who exploit misery and poverty for clout, Davao Conyo relies on the power of his punchlines, the depth of his insights, and the strength of his writing. Without naming names, he tells stories. Without hijacking trends, he goes viral. Such is the force of Davao Conyo: his ‘room temperature humor’ is proof that stories can come from monotony, and genius can emerge from the ordinary.
Hernandez, as both an introvert and an internet star, is a living example of how people can have millions of fans without betraying their true selves.
“The internet really evened out the playing field so that even if you’re a shy person, you can do comedy,” he said. “I want people to appreciate my work, but it stops there. You do not need to love me. I do not want to be a superstar. I just want to exist.”
All photographs by Jason Tan. Special thanks to Jones All Day at Serendra, Bonifacio Global City. Visit their Instagram account by clicking on this link.