It's doubtful that even the Welsh lingerie magnet could relate to the giddy success that Anthony now enjoys. The 31-year-old Grammy winner continues to climb the pop charts thanks to his first crossover CD. The self-titled album of dance tunes and romantic ballads comes on the heels of his signing contracts with the Columbia Records and Sony Discos labels worth more than $50 million altogether. Hearing him sing, writes a Newsday (New York) critic "is like listening to a Caruso aria."
Film critics have also been singing Anthony's praises for his gritty performance as a disturbed homeless man in Martin Scorsese's Bringing Out the Dead. "He's sort of the backbone of the morality of the story," says Scorsese. "Ultimately the whole film comes together around him." Anthony's Oscar-winning costar Nicolas Cage was impressed as well. "Marc was able to shed his image, which is a very romantic and soulful one," says Cage, "and dive into this frightening appearance."
If gossip hounds are to be believed, Anthony is equally adept at managing a brisk social life. "I wish I was getting that much action," he says of reports about his all-night carousing. Still, he has been linked with a long line of starlets, from Mira Sorvino to Jennifer Lopez. In October, Anthony announced his engagement to his 25-year-old Puerto Rican on-again, off-again girlfriend, former Miss Universe Dayanara Torres, though that is day-to-day as well.
A self-described homebody, Anthony enjoys spending time with Arianna, his 5-year-old daughter with former live-in love Debbie Rosado, a New York City policewoman from whom he split in 1995. "I was one of the proudest diaper changers you ever met," says Anthony, whose daughter lives with Rosado in New York City. "Arianna and I go to the country and roll around on the grass," he says, "or we put marshmallows in the fire and make s'mores."
Anthony's own childhood was decidedly less charmed. Born Marco Antonio Muñiz in New York's impoverished Spanish Harlem, he and seven older siblings were brought up by Puerto Rican émigrés Felipe Muniz, a hospital lunchroom worker, and Guillermina, a housewife. "I thought I lived in Puerto Rico for the first seven years of my life," Anthony says. "My father had a rule: For two days a week, we had to speak Spanish in the house."
Anthony was only 3 when he discovered the power of his voice at family sing-alongs. "I made my sister-in-law cry," he says. "I thought, 'Hmm, there's something going on here.' " Encouraged by his parents, he began pursuing a music career in his teens, singing jingles for Bumble Bee Tuna and working as a vocal coach and backup singer for groups like the Latin boy band Menudo. As he watched fans go gaga over a kid named Ricky Martin, Anthony never lost faith in himself. "I knew my time would come," he says. "I knew I could hit notes others couldn't." He was right. In 1993 the first of his three salsa albums launched him as a Latin music star.
Success has yet to lose its luster. "Twenty years in the business and I'm still excited about it," he says. So are his fans. During a concert in Chicago last year, an overenthusiastic woman leapt onstage, grabbed the singer and sank her teeth into his cheek. "Adoration is one thing," Anthony says, "assault is another."
Steve Dougherty
Natasha Stoynoff in New York City
- Contributors:
- Natasha Stoynoff.
Saved by the Bell Reunion
The hookups, the meltdowns, the memoires
The case reveals what was really going on what they think of each other now!
