Fresh Air - Actor Colman Domingo

Episode Date: December 11, 2023

Colman Domingo stars in two big films this year, in very different roles. In "Rustin," he plays the civil rights leader Bayard Rustin. In the new musical adaptation of "The Color Purple" he plays Mister, a cruel and abusive husband. "I think as artists, as actors, we are always watching," Domingo tells Terry Gross. "We're watching heroes. We're watching ordinary people do extraordinary things every single day. We're watching horrible people do terrible things and be committed to it. ... For me, I didn't build outside of myself, modeling on somebody who did some vicious things or abusers. I have to look within."Learn more about sponsor message choices: podcastchoices.com/adchoicesNPR Privacy Policy

This is Fresh Air. I'm Terry Gross. Two of the big holiday film releases star my guest, Coleman Domingo. In the new musical film adaptation of The Color Purple, he plays Mister, the cruel, abusive husband who treats his wife like his personal slave. Domingo also plays the title role in Rustin, the biopic about civil rights leader Bayard Rustin. If you're not familiar with Bayard Rustin, or you know his name but not much else, the reason is explained in the film. Rustin was the chief organizer of the 1963 March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom, where Martin Luther King gave his famous I Have a Dream speech. The march drew 250,000 people from around the country, and it was Rustin who oversaw the planning and logistics.

It was Rustin who introduced the idea of passive resistance to Martin Luther King. But Rustin was gay, and in 1963, several civil rights leaders feared that could discredit Rustin, the march, and the larger movement. Adding to their concern was that he'd briefly been a member of the Young Communist League, and later, during World War II, he was jailed for resisting the draft as a conscientious objector. Consequently, he was forced to remain in the background, behind the scenes. President Obama did his part to credit Rustin by posthumously awarding him the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 2013, marking the 50th anniversary of the march. This year is the 60th anniversary. The film Rustin was produced by the Obama's production company, Higher Ground, and directed by George C. Wolfe. If you watched Euphoria, you'll recognize Coleman Domingo for his Emmy-winning performance as Ali Muhammad, who's in recovery and is the AA sponsor for Zendaya's character.

Domingo is also known for his roles in Fear the Walking Dead, Zola, Ma Rainey's Black Bottom, If Beale Street Could Talk, and Passing Strange. And on Broadway, he was one of the stars of The Scottsboro Boys, with a score by Kander and Ebb. Let's start with a scene from Rustin. Bayard Rustin knows there's pressure on him to resign from any role in the march and resign from the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, which was led by King and is played in the film by Amel Amin. Rustin tries to convince King that the movement should resist against the threat of blackmail or smear campaigns targeting Rustin's homosexuality. Each of us are taught in ways both cunning and cruel that we are inadequate and complete. And the easiest way to combat that

feeling of not being enough is to find someone we consider less than. Less than because they are poorer than us, or because they are darker than us, or because they desire someone. Our churches and our laws say they should not desire. When we tell ourselves such lies, start to live and believe such lies, we do the work of our oppressors by oppressing ourselves. Strong, Thurman and Hoover don't give a **** about me. What they really want to destroy is all of us coming together and demanding this country change. Are they expecting my resignation? Some are, yes. Then they're going to have to fire me.

Because I will not resign. On the day that I was born black, I was also born homosexual. They either believe in freedom and justice for all, or they do not. Come in, Domingo. Welcome to Fresh Air. You're terrific in this movie, and I would be shocked if you were not nominated for an Oscar. Oh, Terry, thank you so much for having me. It means the world. Thank you. You know, I knew so little about Bayard Rustin.

I grew up with his name, I heard his name, but he was like a guy in the civil rights movement. That's about all I knew about him. What did you know before you were asked to do the movie? I knew a little bit more than most people. And I think any of the listeners out there will question why they didn't know about him. He was all but erased in the history books. I stumbled upon him. I was a student at Temple University in Philadelphia, and I joined the African American Student Union in my junior year. And I think we were just having

the discussion about the civil rights movement and some of its leaders. And then they were describing Bayard Rustin. And Bayard, the more that someone described him, I became more fascinated. The fact that he was a Quaker and from Westchester, Pennsylvania. That he played the lute and he sang Elizabethan love songs. He was a star athlete. He staged sit-ins and protests when he was a teenager, and he organized a march on Washington for jobs and freedom. I was like, wait, what? How come we don't know about this person? This is a person of such size and someone who seems to be full

in their experience in the world. How is it possible that he's been erased from history? But of course, I understood once I found that he was openly gay, I understood exactly why. And did you know at that point that you were gay?

Did I know at that point that I was gay? I knew. I think I always knew. I grew up in inner city of West Philadelphia and, you know, I think people know.

You know. But then I was coming to terms with my own sexuality probably at the same time, that spark of understanding who Bayard Rustin was in the world. And I think I sort of maybe quietly and privately looked at Bayard Rustin as a North Star, someone who not only was true to himself and his experience and his sexuality, but with limitless possibilities of what he could do, what he could be.

He didn't marginalize himself. And so I must have downloaded that information in some way, shape, or form, and that's sort of helped me live my life completely and wholly. I'm 54 years old, and I think he was very purposeful to me at a young age. So who did you talk to? There's still some contemporaries of Bayard Rustin's who are alive who worked with him on the March on Washington. Were you able to talk with any of them?

Oh, absolutely. I was able to talk to, in particular, Rochelle Horowitz, who's featured in the film, played by Lily Kay. Rochelle Horowitz and I, we actually have a text feed. She texts me pretty much every day now. I think we just really share a kindred spirit. And so I'm able to ask her private questions, things that maybe have helped inform some of my choices, but also things that may not have. I just wanted to know the soul of this guy. And I literally was just at Walter Nagel

at his apartment, which is he and Bayard's apartment. He still lives in the very same apartment. There were a couple for about 10 years from 1977 until Bayard's passing. Yeah, and Walter Nagel and I had lunch. It was the first time I went over to Bayard's apartment, and it looked like time stood still.

It was amazing. Walter Nagel has been the keeper of Bayard's legacy, and there's all this religious sculpture and art and books and records and walking sticks, because Bayard Rustin was a collector of everything. Wherever he traveled, he got a lot of stuff. Now, the woman who you mentioned, Rochelle, what was her role in the march?

Her role in the march? She organized transportation for the March on Washington. And she was 19, 20 years old. He had nothing but young people working with him because I think Bayard really liked to work with young people because he felt like they weren't rigid and they were willing to, you know. They were willing to work under really crummy working conditions. Oh, yeah. Exactly.

For nearly 24 hours a day. Exactly. Because you need that spirit, though. You're like, hey, that can do spirit. I want to play a clip of Bayard Rustin speaking. And this isn't you as Rustin, this is Rustin. So this is him speaking at the march on Washington, where he talked about the goals of the march. And the sound quality isn't great, but I think people will be able to make it out and hear what his voice sounded like. The first demand is that we have effective civil rights legislation,

no compromise, no filibuster, and that it includes public accommodations, decent housing, integrated education, FAPC, and the right to vote. What do you say? So his voice is higher than yours. Yes, it is. So what did you do to try to get his voice and his way of speaking?

He had a very formal way of speaking, I think. Well, it was formal, but it was also, he created it. He created his accent, right? Oh, yeah, he created his accent. As I was doing research and I was finding any materials that I could find of interviews, debates, you name it, I noticed he had sort of a somewhat mid-Atlantic standard accent, very much akin to like Katharine Hepburn or Bette Davis. And at times it would sound a bit more British, and at times it would sort of fall away.

And I was like, wait a minute, this guy's from Westchester, Pennsylvania. I'm from Philadelphia. We don't sound like that. Yeah, they're close to each other. Yeah, they're pretty close to each other. So I was like, something's going on there. And I asked Rochelle Horowitz. I said, well, where'd that accent come from? And she said, well, he made it up. And I thought, wait, what? He made it? Who makes up an accent? Well, this guy does, which is brilliant. But he made it up for a couple reasons. One in particular is that he had a speech impediment. He used to stutter.

So he would do work to make sure he was clear in his language. And he would also heighten it because he was a bit of a, he just was obsessed with anything British. That pitch of his voice in the march is even fuller than actually really. I mean, it was even higher pitch. It was a bit more like up here. And he would flourish it a bit more up here, even more so. I was trying to find ways how he used it in different scenes,

whether he was with members of the NAACP or when he was just in private, and then when it fell away when he was a bit more vulnerable. So I had to figure out how to calibrate it for a film. But in reality, it was all over the place. In every recording, it's something else. And so it was hard to pin down at first. And then I just had to take dramatic license and make choices with it. But also, I didn't want to be a caricature and mimic his voice.

I wanted to find those elements that worked narratively. So I had to really just really score it for myself. You mentioned he had a stutter. You had a lisp when you were young. Did you have a stutter too? No, you did your homework. I did. I had a lisp.

I had speech classes up until I was about 11 or 12 years old. Where I would have to go with a speech therapist in school and dentalize my T's and S's and X's. And just really learn how to use my teeth and my tongue. Because I was an avid reader. I read everything. But I think it just gave me more confidence to have a love for language. I think that's where my love for language started in speaking. Again, we have a similarity in that way, me and Bayard, where we had something to overcome when it comes to language. And I think it's made us, I don't know, I love speaking. I'm not afraid of coloring my words.

That's probably really good training for theater, but also really good training for learning how to speak differently, like learning how to speak like Rustin, because you learned how to speak without your lisp. Yeah, and I also had, when I was portraying Rustin, I had to wear prosthetics for my upper teeth. Yeah, go ahead. Because you have three teeth out. So that was also something I had to put those prosthetics in at least an hour and a half before. So usually you want to get set up with the men immediately.

And I would start working with my mouth to make, because Byard speaks a lot. And he speaks with alacrity. And he's got a lot to say. So that was a great challenge, but I think it also gave me a slight lisp, like he had, which was pretty awesome. I was wondering about those teeth. He got his teeth knocked out. In 1942. Yeah, when he refused to move to the back of the bus. Yeah, when he was one of the first people doing these bus protests, you know?

So I was wondering, like, how you—I was thinking you didn't have your teeth pulled. I was hoping you didn't. No, people are going to be asking that. I'm like, I am not that method actor. Yeah, I'm hoping. I'm not that insane. When you were doing, like, speech therapy to overcome your lisp and you learned how to, like, pronounce your T's clearly and your S's and you learned to, like pronounce your t's clearly and and your s's and you learned

to like really clearly enunciate yes were you considered phony when you started speaking that way no i wasn't i think at least i i don't think i was because i would say things like i'll go boxes you know and i would have to just like dentalize and keep that tongue behind the teeth. Boxes, boxes, boxes. You know, it's funny. I still warm up very much when I do my warm-ups in the morning before I'm acting. I warm my whole mouth up because it's just a habit that I need to do to make sure my mouth is operating and doing the thing I need it to do. But I think every so often, I feel like even if you've gone through any sort of speech therapy, at times you can hear it slip once in a while. It's ingrained in some way, although we do the work to overcome it.

Can you share some of what your vocal warm-up is like? Sure. Let's see, I would start by going, I love to do things with T's and with language. I would say, one fat hen, one fat hen, a couple of ducks, three brown bears, four slippery sliders, five freakish felines freaking frantically, six assailant sailors sailing the seven seas, seven simple simons sitting on a stump, eight egotistical egotists eagerly echoing egotistical ecstasies. Nine nibble nits, nibble nibble nuts, nuts on a cigarette butt. That's great. Did you make those words up? Did you make those phrases up? No, I didn't make those phrases up. They came from, you know, it's all these theater games.

Some teacher taught me that years ago. But it really opens your mouth up. And also, you know, the... And... You get your nasal passages open. You get your ping sound. So if I'm working on stage, I want to make sure that I'm supporting my voice and somebody can hear it in the 1,000th seat on Broadway.

So there's all this work to do just to get sound out and make it sound natural and good and supported. So also this month, The Color Purple opens, and you play Mister, who is an abusive, cruel, spiteful husband who treats his much younger wife, who he basically bought at a discount, he treats her like his slave. And so you have to draw on completely different resources, I would presume, than you did for the idealistic Bayard Rustin. Can you talk about where you find that more cruel part of yourself? This is the way I think about how we create characters. I have to look within. For me, that makes it more human to understand that we all have good in us and then we all have the capability to do some

horrible things. If we weren't as evolved, if life didn't go well for us in some way, we can download and say, well, how will we feel? Why would we want to do that? And that's the way I found Mr. I started to think, well, what was his dreams? What did he want? What did he need? What happened when he didn't get it? What systems were he living under? Why would he do this to this young woman? And that's the way I started to find character and find out how he operated. So The Color Purple was a novel, still is a novel, by Alice Walker. That was adapted into a film starring Oprah Winfrey. And then that was adapted into a Broadway musical starring Cynthia Erivo.

And that Broadway musical was adapted into this film. Did you see any of the preceding versions in their time? And did you go back and watch any of them and reread the book for the movie? Yes. I first saw the movie. Yes. I first saw the movie in 1985, and I think I've watched it maybe 50 to 100 times in my life. And then I saw both versions of the musical, one starring LaChanze, and when it came back, starring Cynthia Erivo, also with Daniel Brooks, who's my co-star in this film version and then when I was offered Mister

I went back all the way to the source material and read the book and because I knew we were also doing something that was different it's not the rehashing the film or the musical even I feel like you know when people come and see this experience of The Color Purple

they'll see it's a hybrid of sorts but it really is honoring the musical even. I feel like, you know, when people come and see this experience of The Color Purple, they'll see it's a hybrid of sorts, but it really is honoring the book in many ways. Why did you watch the film 50 times before you even knew you would be in another adaptation?

Oh, man. I think what Steven Spielberg did in 1985 was masterful. It was beautiful to see because I think it's just a part of, I don't know, it really does tell you so much about who we are, who we are as African Americans in America. And it deals with family, it deals with generational trauma, it deals with women,

people that maybe like your mom and grandmother and your aunties, having conversations that seem private, or dealing with male-female relationships, or father-son that are complex. And you try, I don't know, I think I'm watching because I feel like I'm watching my family in some way. Not my immediate family, but generationally. Where do we

come from? How did we get here? What are still our struggles? It's that timeless, actually. So I think that's why anytime it was on, anytime it's on a flight, I'll watch it. A flight, okay. It's true. It's good for a flight. It's great. Were you disappointed you didn't have a real singing role in the movie? No. You know why? Because I figured out why.

Why? At least for myself. First of all, when I got offered it, I went to the Broadway musical and started listening to all his songs. And he had so many. Did I love them? I don't know if I loved the songs. I was like, okay, they're interesting. But when I got the script and I saw that, I think at that time, he still had two songs in it. And then by the time we got into production, both songs were cut. And I didn't say anything. I just thought, well, that's interesting. I wonder why.

And I saw that maybe I think about 13 songs were cut. And so I made a decision for myself as an actor. I thought, what happens to a person when they have no song? He doesn't have a song. That's part of his problem. He's constantly playing the banjo, trying to come up with song, but he can't have a song that's part of his problem he's constantly playing the banjo trying to come up with song but he can't and he keeps getting interrupted i can use that as a character that this is the one the one central character who doesn't have a song and i think that that psychologically what does that do to a person when they have nothing to come out of their heart and in their minds i think he's lacking in imagination. He's lacking his own evolution. You know, I think Celie and the women, like, you know, the Sophia,

they're constantly evolving. You know, and Harpo, who plays my son by Corey Hawkins, he's evolving. But Mister is just like his father, and they're still dealing with some pain and trauma and not evolving. Well, we need to take another break here, so let me reintroduce you. If you're just joining us, my guest is Coleman Domingo, and he stars in the new film Rustin about the civil rights leader Bayard Rustin, and he plays Mister in the new musical adaptation of The Color Purple.

We'll be right back after a short break. I'm Terry Gross, and this is Fresh Air. Everything you hear from the NPR network really does depend on your contributions. For anyone listening who isn't a supporter yet, right now is a great time to get involved. If you like perks, Fresh Air Plus offers sponsor-free listening and exclusive bonus episodes. If you want to make a tax-deductible donation to your favorite NPR station or stations, that's great too. We've even had NPR Plus subscribers make additional contributions. No matter how you give, your donation helps us continue to bring you news and shows across the NPR network. If you value what we do here, please give today at donate.npr.org slash fresh air or explore NPR Plus at plus.npr.org. Thanks. Let's get back to my interview with Coleman Domingo. He stars in two of the big holiday

movie releases. In the biopic Rustin, he plays civil rights leader Bayard Rustin, the man most responsible for organizing the 1963 March on Washington for jobs and freedom, but was forced to stay in the background because he was gay. The film is streaming on Netflix. In the new adaptation of The Color Purple, Domingo plays Mister, the abusive, cruel husband. That film opens Christmas Day. Domingo is also known for his roles in Fear the Walking Dead

and his Emmy Award-winning performance in the HBO series Euphoria. You were great in Euphoria, the HBO series about teenagers doing a lot of drugs. And it starred Zendaya and you played her sponsor. You were in recovery and trying to talk to her about sobriety. And I want to play a scene. So it's Christmas Eve. You're sitting in a diner, Zendaya's character and you, her sponsor. And it appears that she's using again, and she's really in despair. And you're trying to convince her that she's capable

of change, she's capable of getting sober, and that you've been there. So you're describing some of the problems you had when you were using. So let's hear the scene. One night I looked over and I see my two little girls watching. And I thought, here I am, a grown man with two girls, and they just watch me hit their mom in the face. I spent 30 years of my life thinking of how to kill my dad for doing the same s*** I just did to their mom. That's rock bottom. It doesn't get any worse than that.

But hey, it took me another five years to clean up because for some people there is no rock bottom. It's bottomless. And the truth is, drugs will fundamentally change who you are as a human being. Every moral, every principle, everything you hold close to your heart and believe in will go out the window or down the drain. Because there's no force stronger on planet Earth than that next fix. Now, you may be functioning.

Maybe things go well. Maybe they last. Maybe they don't. But the one thing I know is true is that the longer you do drugs, the more you're going to lose. And not just in terms of the things you love, but the things you value about yourself. And every compromise you make, every moral line that you cross, you'll go further and further until you don't recognize who the f*** you are.

And that list of racing thoughts, that list of unforgivable things, it grows longer and gets uglier. Do you still think I'm a good person? Yeah. The thought of maybe being a good person is what keeps me trying to be a good person. Wow. I've never listened to that.

Really? Mm-mm. That's pretty good, right? What did you think listening back to it? What went through your mind? I don't know. It just got me emotional for some reason. Because I think, wow. First of all, I don't even it just got me emotional for some reason because i i think um wow first of all

i don't even sound like myself um which i was just amazed at i was like oh who's that person in this conversation and it's so gentle and it's so honest um the the idea of listening to the character is very interesting to me. It feels more emotional to me because I had my experience filming it. And it was the first thing we filmed out of COVID lockdowns. Oh, that must have been emotional just there. There's something I hear in it because I know that that work was so important, especially for that time. It really was like a balm.

It really was like a prayer and a meditation on who we are right now. And what people, the hard conversations that people needed to have, you know, especially after, you know, summers of racial reckoning and COVID and all that. And then we had the privilege to go back to work and tell the story and connect with another person because, you know, for that year and a half, we weren't able to. And I hear it in the sound of that scene and in my voice. It sounds different to me.

It's just, I don't know, I sat here and it's just like, I felt like I was there, but it was like, it's just a conversation about trying to be a good person. Trying really hard. And he's not sure he can continue doing it because he's in recovery. And the understanding is you're in recovery for life when you're in recovery. And he has the gratitude you're talking about. And he has the authority to speak from experience to Zendaya's character.

But he also knows that that can end at any point, which you could say about COVID, too. Yeah, it's true. About the moment that you were in. Like, things were going to be good for now, but who knows? Yeah, I mean, it, you know, I know we don't talk a lot about that now, but it's like when we really sit with it, and I have that as an anchor, that moment,

because I know all the feelings that I had, and thought thank god and we we we made it in some way that we made it through this i made it through it without being terribly ill i made it through it with you know in some way shape or form when there was some scary times and for me that's my anchor is that episode i know exactly how I was feeling. And we still had masks on. And we were able to do this and take the masks off and just sit across and have this very intimate conversation that Sam set up for us. I love your voice. Thank you.

It's very rich and very expressive. And you can do a lot of different things with it. You can play so many different emotions with it. You've said that you based your portrayal in Euphoria in part on your brother. Is it too personal to ask you about that? No, it's fine. My brother's such a great guy. We've actually gotten closer recently.

He had his own struggles with addiction and going through recovery and things like that. And actually had a very, I think in the last year, he's truly liberated himself. But he also had to understand,

and maybe this is my own understanding of researching and understanding these communities of people who are in recovery. And I held him accountable to it in a way that I guess Ali would. Maybe I learned from Ali. Ali is your character. My character. Just call it what it is. Just say that you're an addict and you're always going to be an addict. And it's okay.

You have a disease and it's okay. but you've got to work with it. I know that I was personally responsible for making sure my brother sought some help. I said, go to a meeting. Go to a meeting. He said, well, I'll go next week. I said, no, no, no. This meeting's happening every day. Go tonight.

Just go. Be vulnerable. Go. If you want to get well, get well. But you have to make that decision for yourself. Did he see your portrayal in Euphoria? Yes. Did he tell you, say anything about it? Listen, even the way I placed my voice, I feel like when I hear that, I sound just like my brother. My brother is such a beautiful artist and he's very, always been fascinated with religion and critical thinking. He's an amazing man. I don't know if he recognizes it or not, but he is actually one of my heroes because he's such a good man and he's a

good father. And he's one of these sort of like unsung people. He's, you know, he's a barber and he's got a very simple life, but he, what he does is he does is he's always trying to be a good person. So what did he think of your performance? He loved it. Your portrayal, yeah. He said, you really know. He said, and people I know who've been in recovery, they recognize that guy and you served everyone well.

And I don't think it's just my portrayal, but I think it's the way Sam Levinson, my writer-director, has created the character and wrote for him. It was very honest and sincere. Well, I think we have to take another break here, so let me reintroduce you. If you're just joining us, my guest is Coleman Domingo. He plays the title role in the new film Rustin and in the new musical film adaptation of The Color Purple. He plays Mister, and he won an Emmy for his role in Euphoria as someone who is in recovery and is the sponsor for the main character, played by Zendaya, who has a drug addiction problem.

We'll be right back after a break. This is Fresh Air. Let's get back to my interview with Coleman Domingo. He plays the title role in the new film Rustin, about civil rights leader Bayard Rustin. And in the new musical film adaptation of The Color Purple, he plays Mister. He won an Emmy for his portrayal of a recovering addict and the sponsor for the main character who is played by Zendaya in the series Euphoria. Let's talk about growing up um you grew up in west philadelphia on 52nd and chancellor street

which is about eight blocks away maybe just seven blocks away from where the radio station where i work used to be um because the station used to be in west philadelphia on 46th and market um now both of those are near the University of Pennsylvania campus, but like 48th, 50th, 52nd, that was the kind of dividing line between people who were like students and went to Penn and professors who lived in West Philly and, you know, taught at Penn between them and just like the neighborhood. And the neighborhood was more inner city than the students at Penn, which is, you know, an Ivy League school. So what was your neighborhood like in terms of that division between it being a kind of university neighborhood and more of an inner city neighborhood?

I think I had the gifts of all of it because I lived, you know, with working class folks. You know, we had block parties all the time. Very much a community. You know, we knew all of our neighbors. Went to public schools. Went down to 52nd and Market Street and did our shopping. And then when I was a teenager, I started to venture out and sort of like cross over, you know, go down past 48th Street and go down to, you know, down Chestnut and down Walnut and Locust, where the houses got a little bigger and there was the trees were a bit more lush. And there was all these university students.

It was very international. So I was always drawn to that. I would always go with a couple friends and we'd just walk down there. It was almost like us going out into the world. It gave me a different sense of like, oh, what's possible? I saw these different kinds of people

that didn't populate my neighborhood and I thought, okay, who are these different kinds of people? How do they see me? So I don't know. I always went for walks out there. But yeah, so I think I just had a really very happy childhood. I think, you know, I'm always trying to dispel,

not even dispel, but sort of like broaden people's views of the inner city, thinking it's nothing but like violence and drugs and stuff like that. And I'm like, I didn't grow up like that. I grew up, you know, my parents would yell out of the house, you know, for me to come in the house about 6 o'clock, and we'd sit around the table and eat dinner together. You know, my stepfather at the head of the table, my mom at the side, and all those kids, all those kids,

like four of us sitting around the table eating together, talking about our day. You know, my mother checked my homework and wanted me to go to college. And, you know, our neighbors around the corner, still my closest friends, Stacy Thomas and Wendy and the whole Story family, they had houses down the shore. You know, there was some small generational wealth that folks had. And I think when I'm always telling people about like the kind of, you know, I would go down the shore with them. I would go to Wildwood and Cape May and have these small, beautiful little houses. But I have this really sort of like great childhood, you know?

Yeah, it does sound good. So how old were you when you came out to your parents? I was 21 years old. What was their reaction? Very supportive and loving. It became sort of a comedy of errors because I came out to my brother in front of a strip club, actually, because he was taking me there as, you know, I came back home from living in San Francisco, and he takes me to a strip club because, you know, that's what big brothers do. I want to take you.

I got to take you to my spot. So he takes me there. And I was just, I felt like such a fraud. And so I had to excuse myself with him. And I took him outside. And out of everyone in my family, I never thought that I would come out to my older brother first. My brother Rick was the coolest dude. He still is.

You know, ladies man, all that. And I just came out to him in front of the club. And he just like, he was so surprised. But he looked at me and he just hugged me and said, I love you anyway. But he said, well, I'm just going to keep this between us. And then he tells my sister. My sister calls me and she's pissed. And I thought she was pissed because I was gay.

She was pissed because I didn't tell her first. And then we agreed that, okay, we'll just keep this between us, you know. But she also said, but when you're ready, you should tell Mom first because she shouldn't hear it secondhand like I did. And so then I call my parents because, you know, my family, we're very close.

But I think it's less evolved times when I came out in like 1991, less evolved times. And so it was a real threat of your parents sort of like... Throwing you out. Throwing you out, not loving you, shutting you off. So I decided to come out to my parents. I came out to my mom.

And as she was struggling to find the words, and it wasn't easy for her because it was just a little confusing, but although later she says, I always knew, but I think she tried to figure some other narrative about me because whatever it was was too scary because she didn't understand what that was.

But the moment I came out to her, she said, okay. And she said, well, this is just a day between us. And then we hang up the phone, and then 20 minutes later, she calls me, and she says, hey, so I talked to your stepfather about what we talked about. And I said, I was phone. And then 20 minutes later, she calls me and she says, Hey, so I've talked to your stepfather about what we talked about. And I said, I was like, what? Are you crazy? What is wrong with you? And she hands the phone to my stepfather. Here he is. And he says to me, the most loving, beautiful thing. This lets you know where I come from. My stepfather, big blue collar dude says to me, I'll do it in his voice,

he goes, well, you know what me and your mom talked about? I said, yeah. He said, well, you know, you're a good boy. You've always been a good boy, and I just want you to know that I think love is love. And I was so overwhelmed,

I started crying. And he was like, you're a good boy. That's all that matters. And so even the fact that they didn't know what that was or what it meant, they had enough love for me to try to find their way. I'm really curious what the experience of being in the strip club with your brother was like. Hilarious.

Because, you know, there was, I remember this one stripper in particular, she decided she, you know, my brother calls her over. And I guess she was like a superstar, you know, of the strip club. And she comes over and she starts grinding on me, straddling me in every single way possible. It was very athletic.

And at first I was impressed with her athleticism. I was like, this is pretty amazing. But it's not really doing anything for me. And then I started giggling, which is probably not something that people do in strip clubs. I was giggling, and that seemed wrong and awkward. And then I had to excuse myself because it felt so crazy. Everything about it felt insane.

And then we go outside. My brother's laughing. Was that fun? Was that good? You like that? And it just felt like such a liar. I was like, no. I just had to in the moment.

I didn't ever intend to come out to my brother. I probably never intended to come out to my brother. I feel like it just happened. I didn't even know that, hey, there was going to be a moment for me to come out to my brother. I probably never intended to come out to my brother. I feel like it just happened. I didn't even know that, hey, there was going to be a moment for him to come out. But in this moment, I thought, I can't do this anymore. It doesn't feel like I'm honoring myself or being honest in any way.

Well, let me reintroduce you here. If you're just joining us, my guest is Coleman Domingo. He plays the title role in the new film, Rustin, about the civil rights leader who organized the 1963 March on Washington, and in the new film Rustin about the civil rights leader who organized the 1963 March on Washington. And in the new musical film adaptation of The Color Purple, he plays Mister. We'll be right back. This is Fresh Air. So you are really at an incredible point in your career now.

Like, it seemed like you were really at a turning point about 13 15 years ago i mean you were in the uh off broadway then broadway musical passing strange which was adapted which it was filmed by spike lean and show shown on public television you were in the scottsboro boys a candor and a musical um and then you ended up bartending again and thinking that you had studied photojournalism. You're thinking, well, maybe I'll just go into doing headshots for people in movies and TV. And then you got a part on Fear the Walking Dead and that turned things back around again. But here you are in like two of the biggest end of the year movies.

And you're 54 now, right? Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. So what's it like for you to be in this totally different professional space right now in your life after almost giving it up a few years ago? Yeah. You know what? I've been working now for, what, 33 years. And I think I made a commitment early on that it was the life of an artist. I always thought I was successful if I just got paid for doing what I love.

And I was just committed to the work. And so even when I started out in educational theater tours and also off-Broadway, regional theater, I performed in probably at least 50 regional theaters around the country. I have off-Broadway credits. You name it. I just wanted to work and do good work though, being very specific about being useful with work. And so by the time I finished The Scottsboro Boys in London in 2013, I thought this was everything I wanted to do.

I was purposeful. I was useful. It was entertaining. I was respected. I literally was nominated for an Olivier. And then I came back to New York and I was being offered these auditions, not even offers, auditions for like, you know, under five in our business. It's like under five lines. And I just thought, I don't think I'm being used properly. And I think it's time to do something else. I'm in my mid-40s. Friends that I grew up with are now attorneys and doctors and having healthy livelihoods. And I'm living in a rent-stabilized apartment in Manhattan and struggling, honestly. So I thought I was done. And I went home one day after a series of disappointments. And one in particular was I auditioned for Boardwalk Empire to play the host of a club.

And the cast director brought me in. She said, oh, you're perfect for this. You're perfect. We need a song and dance man. We need a charismatic guy to be the host of this club, Chalky's Club. And I thought, oh, great, wonderful. I auditioned for it. They love it. They call me in for a producer session. I go in there. I kill it.

So I go to the gym, and I'll never forget this day. And my agent calls. And she says, Coleman, I thought, here, this is it. This is something, something. I need something. She says, Coleman, hi. She said, I just heard back from Boardwalk Empire. I was like, OK.

And she said, they loved you. OK. Casting loved you. Producers, director, everyone loved you. You were great. And they wanted to say thank you and all your work. I said, OK. And she said, but unfortunately, one of the researchers poked their head up and said, oh, but did you know that hosts of these clubs were all light skinned?

Oh. And at that time. You're kidding. And I literally screamed in this gym. And I burst into a puddle of tears after screaming. And my agent was so upset. She said, oh my God, Coleman, where are you? Where are you? Where are you? I said, I can't, I can't take this anymore. I can't do it. It's going to break my heart. I can't do it. I have to stop. And as I was processing that, my dear friend, Daniel Breaker, I was telling him this.

I said, I'm done. He said, okay. He said, you know, my managers have been wanting to meet with you for years. I said, no, no, no. I just got rid of my manager. I'm going to wrap things up. He said, hmm. He talked to them. He said, they really just wanted to meet with you once. I said, okay.

For you. So I go into this meeting, and I have my arms folded, and I know I had a bit of an attitude. I wasn't the bright, fuzzy, warm person that I think I know myself to be. I sat there and I said, well, this is what I do. I do this, this, that, and the other, blah, blah, blah. I think, I don't know. I'm done with this. And they were like, well, we would love to work with you. I said, how about we give it six months and see? We can see. So I had to break up with my agent and and that was painful. It was like a divorce. And then my very first audition with this new agent, who I'm still with, and the new managers,

was for Fear the Walking Dead and also the Baz Luhrmann show, The Get Down. I booked both roles off of self-tapes. And I realized at that point, I was with an agency. She was lovely and wonderful, but I guess they had no access. So my tapes were not being seen. I think none of my work is being seen for years. I think that I didn't have access.

But suddenly, I get series regular off of one self-tape audition. So it reinvigorated my faith in what I had to give. And Fear the Walking Dead really changed my life. It set me up differently in this world. That helped me stay in the business and I feel like I had something to give. And now where I am in my career, this was not mapped out. But now that I'm here, it feels so beautiful. But also I know that it's so earned.

It's not like a surprise, like, oh, someone sees my work. No, the surprise for me is that people, they can really go back into my work and realize I've been here for a very long time working and creating. And now I feel very peaceful, actually. I feel that I'm being seen the way that I see myself. I'm happy for you. And I want to congratulate you on the success you're having now between the Emmy for Euphoria and your two new movies, Rustin and The Color of Purple. Congratulations. Thank you, Terry. This has been really wonderful.

Coleman Domingo stars as civil rights leader Bayard Rustin in the new biopic, Rustin, which is streaming on Netflix. In the new adaptation of The Color Purple, he plays Mister, the abusive husband.

It opens Christmas Day. Tomorrow on Fresh Air, our guest will be Cord Jefferson, the writer and director of the new satirical film American Fiction. It's about a black writer who can't get his novel published

because it's not considered black enough. Under a pseudonym, he writes the kind of black novel publishers seem to want. Jefferson has also written for Succession and Watchmen. I hope you'll join us. To keep up with what's on the show and get highlights of our interviews, follow us on Instagram at NPR Fresh Air. Fresh Air's executive producer is Danny Miller. Our technical director and engineer is Audrey Bentham, with additional engineering today from Charlie Kyer. Our interviews and reviews are

produced and edited by Our digital media producer is Our co-host is I'm Terry Gross.