Theo Rossi is on a roll. Between the critical darling Emily the Criminal, a voice gig in Tales of the Jedi, and an impressive mastery of Goat Dad energy, the man has officially entered his Renaissance phase.
It’s fitting. Rossi’s story—like Emily’s—is one of survival, reinvention, and somehow making it look charming.
“Acting isn’t pretending, it’s becoming,” he says, quoting Bill Duke. “I had no other skills. I paid people to do my college papers while I hustled.” And then a random acting class changed his life. Cue montage.
He’s still in awe of Emily the Criminal’s slow-burn success: Sundance hit, Netflix boost, Obama’s best-of list, Spirit Award noms. “It just kept going,” he says. “I've never been a part of a film that keeps coming back every week. And it’s not because it made a billion dollars. It’s just... a good film.”
Why did it resonate? “Desperation,” he says. “Every person watching goes: what would I do? I didn’t pay off my student loans till I got Sons of Anarchy. Before that? Insurmountable.”
His take: crime isn’t glamour—it’s survival. “No one wants to do crime. They do it because they’ve got no other option. Someone gives you a chance to pay off your debt in one month? That’s a hundred-year debt for some people.”
Youcef, his character in Emily, is a study in duality. “Unresolved dreams,” he says. “He’s got obligations. He’s not who he wants to be. She gives him a moment to be himself.”
Rossi loves the quiet work—those moments when you say everything without saying a word. “People talk too much,” he shrugs. “Sometimes words just get in the way. That’s why I love Betty Davis. That’s why my kids love Ghostbusters more than anything modern.”
Speaking of which, his two sons spend Saturdays watching YouTube blocks of vintage cartoons with the original ads. “They’re obsessed with Madballs and Garbage Pail Kids,” Rossi laughs. “We go full 1986.”
This nostalgia obsession bleeds into his prep. Every role gets its own character playlist based on what their “formative” era would’ve been. “14 to 24,” he says. “That shapes everything. If the character’s that age now, he’s listening to nu-metal. That’s what I listen to during the shoot. That’s what I watch. That’s who they are.”
And now, he’s part of the Star Wars galaxy, voicing Senator Larik in Tales of the Jedi. “Say less,” he told his buddy when asked. “I don’t care what I’m playing—I’m there.”
He admits to having beef with recent Star Wars content—“We all do”—but being part of the mythology still meant something. Especially the “before” moments. “What was Luke like on Tatooine before the story started? Did he work out? What was his daily life? That’s the good stuff.”
He’s less interested in the spectacle than the scars. That’s why he devours old Hollywood memoirs. “Newman, Nolte, Betty Davis, Brillstein, Gene Wilder. You read them and it’s like: multiple divorces, substance issues, pain behind the genius. Everyone celebrates the work, but no one sees what went to shit.”
So yes, Emily the Criminal hits different. Because it’s real. Because you can smell the sweat on it. Because it reminds you that talent means nothing without opportunity—and that desperation, when framed right, can feel like destiny.
And if you ever forget that, just cue up a few hours of 1986 toy commercials, and remember that some of the best actors in the game started out just trying to get the rent paid.
Watch the interview above and then check out the trailer below.
