Nicholas Alexander Chavez comes across as a good kid. I’m not sure what the general sentiment towards the Houston actor is (TikTok thirsts while Reddit is disconcertingly invested yet divided). It’s harder still to pinpoint an impression when his images present a contradiction of personas. We can all obviously make the distinction between character and actor, but he’s far from a monster.
Why yes, the reference and unapologetically poor pun is entirely necessary. His convincing recreation in Ryan Murphy’s Netflix series that sparked public interest in the Menendez brothers is possibly what Chavez is currently most recognised for. Though it was his wild ride in ABC soap General Hospital that earned him the Daytime Emmy for Outstanding Younger Performer.
I also don’t mean “kid” in a condescending sense. Anyone who has had to manoeuvre an early career in showbiz would likely have their sensibilities aged north of their actual age. The approaching-26-year-old is set to star alongside Pamela Anderson in Camino Real.
Chavez brightly informs me that the last major US production of the Tennessee Williams’ play was in 1999 (coincidentally his birth year, if you haven’t made the connection or simply have bad math skills); featuring Ethan Hawke in the shoes he is about to fill.
Besides this return to a live stage at the Williamstown Theatre festival, upcoming films are a I Know What You Did Last Summer remake, and psychological thriller The Technique. Counting his work in Grotesquerie, you can't help but notice a pattern.
"I think there are different kinds of dark roles, right?" Chavez muses, making the comparison between playing a fictional villain versus a real person who has undergone severe circumstances. Assuming Lyle Menendez was admittedly taxing. "It wasn't until around maybe nine months after we stopped filming that I started to feel like myself again. When I look back at some of the interviews I've given I can tell that something is a bit off about my disposition."
This is exception rather than norm. And can you blame him? Imagine fully immersing yourself in a scene where (spoiler alert?) you are slathered in prop-faeces and locked in a closet. Having put himself through these brutal pseudo-situations, the thespian no longer feels like there’s any topic too taboo for him to portray. Yeah, well, most would consider the lethal combination of incest, sexual and physical violence, on top of murder, pretty extreme.
It’s not so much a matter of method when it comes to acting, but a dose of reality is required both to contextualise the constructed realm and activate the imagination to operate in it. The extent to which the audience buys the authenticity invariably hinges on how much the performer does.
“And you find that your body, your central nervous system, doesn’t really know the difference,” he remarks with more gravity than intended, “Whether the grief or other emotion is fictitious or not, it feels the same in my body.”
A truly scary notion if you stop to ponder it, especially when the body stores trauma. Getting psychologically attached is equally tricky. “Sometimes you don’t always realise it in the moment, but your behaviour can drift a little during the course of working on the project. Your personality shifts in subtle ways because you’re working on it up to 14 hours a day, five days a week, for months on end.”
The tangible displacement upon wrapping is an expected occurrence to Chavez, who deems the process enjoyable nonetheless. "Every role is unique but it's a compliment when someone wants to give me a character like that, you know? That someone would trust me with something like that."
Chavez maintains the positive energy that he initiated with, describing his foremost approach to future opportunities of such vein. "I would first be open to learning what that experience would have to teach me.”
The rosy-cheeked lad regards himself as one who caught a lucky break via the audition route after a run of odd jobs. As for his identity as an artist, he isn’t any closer to figuring out. “It’s such an impossible thing to do, because hopefully you’re always evolving... Maybe the goal is to never know who you are as an artist. Your artistic identity remains elusive to you, but clear to everyone else. I don’t know."
The only thing he is certain of are his artistic ethics. “Not just the truth of the script or what happened, but the truth about how I feel. If I disagree with something or if it excites me, I should vocalise that and be honest about it,” he states emphatically. “Everyone’s time is very, very, very precious; so it’s a bad idea to conduct yourself in any other way other than to be 100 per cent truthful.”
Chavez stays forthright when asked about managing his insecurities; a noise he once felt he didn’t have the discipline to drown out in younger years. There’s no attempt to hide a long, reflective pause as he settles on the answer.
“I think the only thing that matters is how you spend your time. If I’m wasting my time feeling self-conscious, then I’m probably not doing the best thing for myself, right? It would be better to work on a script that I'm writing, or to collaborate with some friends on a project, or to go over my lines for the play. There's simply too much ground for me to cover in terms of becoming the very best artist that I could personally be to ever actually feel that way."
He acknowledges that the feeling is natural and not inherently wrong, but considers action the practical response. It's the blessing and curse of being a self-described obsessive human being (“Do I give you that impression?”). Taking deep breaths and relaxing when it’s time to is something he is working on, often requiring regular reminder that doing so could be more productive than working oneself to the bone.
Perhaps it’s to do with one of the several fears he has, of which, unfortunately “many of them are tied for number one.” Holding up his fingers in an accidental peace sign, he grins widely, “There are two big, existential dreads, but for the sake of keeping this interview light, I’m not gonna tell you what they are.”
One of the less esoteric anxieties Chavez is willing to disclose is the fear of flying. “Turbulence freaks me out pretty bad. [If there’s even a hint of it, I’d always think I’m going to crash.”]
Chavez occasionally gets nostalgic about specific episodes; of places, things or even friendships he knows he’ll never be able to experience again in the same way. The house that his father grew up in, the Christmases he spent there, and even what the front door looked like.
“For some reason, the memory that just popped into my head was sleeping on the floor with my friends from football practice. We’re hanging out with a bunch of blankets and pillows; we’re talking, we’re laughing, falling asleep to movies.”
Despite the athletic background, Chavez won’t ascribe “outdoorsy” as a trait of his, unless “outdoors” refers to grabbing a coffee. “I’m not one of those guys who lives in Los Angeles and wants to go hiking every weekend. Like, I think I could count on one hand the number of times I’ve hiked in my life.”
He’s not the type to lose hours gaming online either, unlike his younger brother who prompted him into it. Instead, Chavez is a degenerate gambler when it comes to poker (his words and he’s joking. Probably). Just picture three simultaneous tables, one at unlimited buy-in, one capped to USD500 "if you want to go really crazy", but otherwise mostly kept to relatively low stakes.
He spends the rest of his downtime the way most of us do. Among the recent movies that impressed him are Alex Garland's Warfare and Ryan Coogler's Sinners. (Miles Caton you've earned yourself a shoutout for having the most beautiful singing voice he's ever heard. Chavez wishes you a long career ahead).
We share a quick second mutually raving over Seth Rogen's The Studio, which is why I'm going to retain verbatim. "Incredible. I'm such a big fan. It's one of the most remarkable television shows that's ever been made. It is kind of a celebration of our industry. Everyone in our business can watch that—whether you're an agent, a producer, an assistant, a writer—and, to use Internet lingo, feel seen," he gushes.
"It's got all the trials and tribulations that anyone has felt in some way, shape or form. I think Seth is incredibly smart. I met him briefly at the Golden Globes, and he was super gracious, super cool. Longtime fan of his work, but holy cow did he hit a home run with that show."
As someone with skin in the game, each endeavour emerges as a study in self-evaluation. "It's definitely something I'm mindful of because I've realised that no matter what you do, it's going to have a pretty significant effect on you when you're spending so much time on it.
"When you sign up for a project, you aren't just signing up for you to work on it. You're signing up for it to work on you as well. So, you need to be at peace with the fact that you're going to be a different person by the time you are done with that than when you began," he explains.
The last year has forced the actor to take a long look at himself; who he wants to be, how he treats others, and other wiles of introspection. This constant assessment and curiosity about yourself in relation to the world around you is an attitude he advocates.
"We all impact people every single day with the way that we show up. Playing characters can actually teach you a lot about who you are from the similarities and differences you have in common. And as an artist, you can exercise the option to take whatever you want away with you, you know what I mean?"
Living in the headspace of another allows him to observe potentially beneficial means to navigate the world. "Ideally, the work should be intensive enough that every role changes you at least slightly," he opines. "I don't want to say it's doing it wrong, but I would feel like I didn't get my teeth in or explore it enough if I'm not at least a little bit different coming out the other side."
Chavez runs a hand through his hair as he concedes to fumbling over his words and thanks me for my patience, which is kind when he has been nothing but articulate. With all that drives him, the core appears as genuine goodwill. "We're not helpless creatures on Earth. We were given agency, ideas," he adds with a smile, "and a working brain, hopefully."
He may pretend to be another for a living, but Chavez's perpetual reinvention is no facade. He strides off set, shedding the skin, yet evolving into a new frame of the man he is to become.
Photography: Jared Kocka
Fashion Direction: Asri Jasman
Art Direction: Joan Tai
Styling: Julian Fetterman
Grooming: Ayae Yamamoto at EXCLUSIVE ARTISTS using YSL BEAUTY and ORIBE HAIRCARE
Executive Producer: Alex T
Producer: Nika Bregvadze at KYNN PRODUCTIONS
Production Coordinator: KC Filzen
Photography Assistants: Victor Prieto and Scott Turner
Styling Assistants: Lucas Randall, Nathan Kottler and Grace Turner
Location and Equipment: Dust Studios LA
Film Development: NYC Film Lab
