“I always remind my son that it’s okay to make mistakes. Give yourself grace… If I could inspire anything, it would be more grace in the world. Grace to make mistakes, grace to grow, and grace to extend kindness to others… At the end of the day, we’re all just trying to survive. And who wants to do that alone?”
I had the pleasure of talking with Alain Uy. Alain is a Filipino-American actor whose steady rise in film and television has been marked by both resilience and range. Born in Dagupan City, Philippines, Uy immigrated to the United States with his family at the age of six, settling in the Glendale and Eagle Rock neighborhoods of Los Angeles. One of five siblings, he describes himself as a quiet child who initially struggled to find his voice in a new country. It was through dance — introduced to him by one of his brothers — that he first discovered a means of self-expression. He would go on to train intensively, aspiring to a career in professional dance until a car accident in his final year of high school forced him to reconsider his future.
During recovery, Uy began exploring other creative outlets. A study abroad program through community college brought him to Oxford University in the United Kingdom, where he encountered professional theater for the first time. A performance of an Oscar Wilde play — starring Liam Neeson — at London’s National Theatre proved transformative. The experience opened up a new artistic path, and Uy soon immersed himself in acting classes and workshops, commuting regularly from Oxford to London to watch live productions. What began as an accidental discovery evolved into a calling.
Uy’s early years in the entertainment industry were shaped less by a singular breakout role and more by a series of challenging moments he describes as “breaks” — both in opportunity and in spirit. He recalls an audition for Aladdin in Los Angeles, where he withdrew mid-performance due to nerves around singing. Though the experience initially felt like a setback, it led unexpectedly to further opportunities, reinforcing a lesson he would carry throughout his career: that vulnerability and persistence often yield quiet breakthroughs.
Over time, Uy built a diverse portfolio of television and film roles. He appeared in HBO’s True Detective, Hulu and Marvel’s Helstrom, and ABC’s Station 19, where he portrayed Captain Pat Aquino, a character with a complicated personal history and deep sense of duty. He has also held roles in network series including Grey’s Anatomy, Grimm, Rizzoli & Isles, The Last Ship, and Apple TV+’s The Morning Show.
In 2021, Uy gained wider recognition for his leading role in The Paper Tigers, an independent action-comedy film that follows three middle-aged former kung fu prodigies avenging the death of their master. His portrayal of Danny, a man torn between nostalgia and responsibility, was praised for its blend of physicality, humor, and emotional nuance. The film has since earned a cult following for its heartfelt treatment of martial arts and Asian American identity.
Uy has continued to expand his presence in high-profile projects. In 2025, he joined the cast of The Cleaning Lady for its fourth season, portraying Feng, a former Hong Kong actor turned criminal strategist entangled in the world of organized crime. He is also set to appear in the Bosch spin-off series Ballard, opposite Maggie Q, as Nelson Hastings, a politically savvy operator with murky motivations. Additionally, Uy reprises his role as Assistant U.S. Attorney Bill Tseng in the STARZ series Power Book IV: Force, a character he has played since 2023.
Off-screen, Uy has extended his creative pursuits through Them Too, a production company he co-founded, and through writing and directing. He also emphasizes mental wellness and sustainability in the entertainment industry. He journals regularly, walks for clarity, and makes a point to disconnect from devices when possible. These habits, he says, have helped him manage the emotional demands of an unpredictable profession.
Throughout his career, Uy has been candid about the challenges of belonging in an industry that has not always made space for complexity in Asian American roles. He often speaks about the imposter syndrome that accompanied his early work, recalling a moment on the set of True Detective when co-star Colin Farrell encouraged him during a difficult first scene. That interaction left a lasting impression and informed Uy’s belief that ensemble work depends not just on performance, but on mutual support.
Now a father, Uy says his priorities have shifted. He is interested in roles that carry emotional weight and stories that reflect the textured realities of identity, migration, and resilience. Reflecting on his personal and professional journey, he advocates for a more forgiving view of ambition — one that allows space for failure, growth, and grace.
While his latest projects showcase his ability to portray layered and enigmatic characters, Uy remains attuned to the human dimensions of his work. Whether through nuanced performances or a quiet reminder to “smile more,” as he puts it, he continues to bring authenticity to his craft and perspective to his path.
Yitzi: Alain, it’s so nice to meet you. Before we dive in deep, our readers would love to learn about your personal origin story. Can you share with us the story of your childhood and how you grew up?
Alain: Oh my god, we’re starting from the beginning. Yeah, my family moved from the Philippines when I was about six or seven. There are five siblings, including myself. We moved here to LA — specifically, the Glendale and Eagle Rock area.
I grew up in that space. I started off as a quiet kid who didn’t really talk much. I think, from my perspective, the immigrant story can go two ways — you either dive headfirst into something new, or you become more reserved. I was definitely more the latter. Meanwhile, my older brother just dove right in.
I didn’t speak much at all. And as a young child, you want to figure out a way to express yourself. One of my brothers suggested that I try dance, and dance became my first love. It was the first time I learned to express emotion without saying anything. That went on for years — through junior high and high school. I actually wanted to be a professional dancer.
Then, during my senior year of high school, I got into a really bad car accident and couldn’t walk for three or four months. Being stuck in bed for that long, all those dreams of being a dancer started to wither on the vine. It was devastating.
Later, I did a study abroad program through my community college. I studied at Oxford University, which was amazing. That’s where I discovered theater. I remember seeing a play with Liam Neeson — it was an Oscar Wilde play, I think at the National Theatre in London — and I was just blown away. I’d been to plays before, but that was the first time I saw a truly professional production that wasn’t a musical. It felt like the actors were just present, living in the moment. I realized, “Wait — you mean someone actually writes the words for you, and you can use those words to express real emotions?”
That was the moment I found a new way to let out all that creative energy. I started taking courses and workshops in London, traveling every weekend from Oxford down to London just to watch theater. So that’s kind of my origin story as a professional actor.
As a human being… we’re still going. Still trying to figure things out.
Yitzi: So could you tell us a bit about some of your first bigger breaks in entertainment? Do you have any stories about your early breaks?
Alain: Whew, breaks, man. I’m still waiting for that big break. You know, it’s interesting you say “break.” The word itself has so many meanings, but one of them is literally to break you apart. And I think about that every time someone brings it up. When you break something, you go through pain — but then you heal and grow.
So if I can twist the question a bit, I’d say I’ve had many breaks in my life and career. A lot of moments where success was shaped by failure — those kinds of breaks. I can think of so many auditions where I mentally quit and thought, “Why am I even doing this? This is impossible.”
There was one audition that stands out. I can’t sing at all — I can act, I can dance, but singing is not my thing. And I remember auditioning for the musical Aladdin when it was coming to LA. I told my agent, “What are you doing? There’s no way I can do this. I’m just going to torture myself.”
Anyway, I went. I did the acting part, and it went really well. Then the singing part came… and I had this total out-of-body experience. It was around the height of American Idol, and in my head, I pictured Simon Cowell just making faces at my singing. So I stopped mid-audition and said, “Hey, I don’t want to waste your time. I just — I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” I left, went home, and cried. I was like, “That’s it. I’m done. What am I doing?”
I talked to my mom about it, and she said, “Well, at least you tried, right?”
The next day, my agent called and asked how it went. I said, “Why would you subject me to that?” And he goes, “What do you mean? You didn’t do terrible. They actually loved you. They were surprised you left. You might not be right for that part, but they want you for something else.”
And that’s the thing about breaks — as artists, we put ourselves out there, and the important thing is not to stop. Keep pushing. And not just as artists, but as people in general. You’re always going to face challenges. The question is, how do you respond to those breaks?
Yitzi: Amazing story. That’s funny — I never interpreted “break” that way. I always thought it meant like, to break into it, you know?
Alain: Yeah, break into it. And it’s funny — I don’t get that question asked often, but when I do, I’ve always kind of ruminated on it. And this is the first time I’ve actually said it out loud: breaks usually end up being a net positive, but sometimes they’re really just learning experiences — for individuals, for people.
Yitzi: I really appreciate how you did that because I love etymology. So when you take a word and break it down to its root and take it in a different direction — I actually love that. I admire that. So thank you.
Alain: But that’s the mindset you have to have, right? How do you interpret something in a different way? I think as I’ve gotten older, I’ve started to think more in those terms — like, okay, something’s being presented to me in a certain way, and I could take it negatively, but I have to figure out how to adjust it so it fits how I think. So yeah.
Yitzi: So, you probably have some amazing stories from different parts of your career. Can you share with the readers one or two that really stand out in your mind from your professional life?
Alain: So many. I’ll tell you this one story — it’s about not feeling like you belong, that imposter syndrome. I think everyone can relate to that in some way.
I remember I booked my first big recurring role on the second season of True Detective, and it’s one of my favorite stories to tell because it reminds me how important it is to have someone tell you that you belong.
It was the first day for everyone, and the first scene being filmed was a Vince Vaughn scene. I remember watching him work — trying different things, taking big swings with the role. He wasn’t failing, per se, but he was experimenting, really going for it.
Then it was our turn to shoot. The scene included Colin Farrell, Rachel McAdams, and a few other big names. I was starting the scene with a monologue, and since we were using the same location and setup, the camera was already in a tight close-up on me.
Just some insider baseball — usually on set, you shoot the wide shots first to warm up, then move in for close-ups. But starting on a close-up, with the pressure already high, it was intense. And to make it even more intense, I had Colin Farrell and Rachel McAdams staring at me like, “Okay, give it to us.”
I froze. Completely locked up. The director, Justin Lin, yelled “Cut,” and said he needed to fix a light. But I knew he didn’t really need to do that — he was just buying me time.
I walked over to the corner of the set and started spiraling. I thought, “I’m gonna get fired. I don’t belong here. They hired the wrong guy. This is insane. I should just leave.”
Then I felt a tap on my shoulder. I heard this distinct Irish accent say, “Hey, it’s okay, man. You got this.” I turned around, and it was Colin Farrell.
He looked at me and said, “Look, these people on this set have no idea what we go through. I want you to know that you belong here. You nailed it in the rehearsal, you won this role, and you can do this.”
He continued, “I don’t need to tell you this, but it’s important you hear it from your peer. I am your peer. I’m not better than you. I’m not lower than you. Even though I’m number one on the call sheet, we’re the same.”
I’m paraphrasing a bit because this was a while ago, but he said something like, “We have to look out for each other as actors. If I’m not there for you, and you’re not there for me, then nobody else on this set is going to care. It’s on us. This is a community, an ensemble. So just give it to me. It’s just me and you — let’s lock in.”
It was like a great sports moment. I was like, “Yeah, you’re right. Okay. Let’s go.”
And he made me believe in myself again. It ended up being one of the greatest experiences I’ve ever had on a set.
After that, we had lunch together a few times, and he told me stories about his own failures and what it was like being number one on a show or a movie. He told me, “Remember this moment, because one day you’ll have your own show or film, and you’ll be number one. It’s your responsibility to take care of everybody.”
That really stuck with me. I’ve only had that opportunity once, when I was the lead in a movie called Paper Tigers. But I carried that lesson with me. That we, as a community — as an ensemble, as artists — we have to look out for each other. We have to lift each other up.
That experience gave me so much courage and confidence. So now, whenever I walk onto a set, I know it’s okay to fail. And more importantly, I know that I belong.
Yitzi: Amazing. Great story. So, you have a lot of impressive work. Can you share with the readers some exciting new things you’re working on now and what you hope to be working on in the near future?
Alain: Oh my god, yeah. I’ve got three projects premiering this year.
First up is The Cleaning Lady, which is an amazing TV show now in its fourth season. There’s a new showrunner this year, Daniel Cerone, who’s really expanding the world of the show — and that’s where my character comes in. His name is Fung, and it was an absolute pleasure to play him. He’s a really well-rounded character with a lot of different layers.
Next is the Bosch spin-off called Ballard, starring Maggie Q. That should be airing sometime this summer, probably right after The Cleaning Lady wraps up. It’s going to be an amazing show — the writing is just fantastic.
And then later this year, the new season of Power Book IV: Force drops. This will be my second season playing AUSSA agent Bill Sang. If you’re a fan of that universe, buckle up — this final season is wild. It’s going to blow a lot of people away.
Yitzi: So this is our signature question. You’ve been doing this for a while, and I’m sure you’ve learned a ton from your experiences. Looking back to when you first started acting, can you share five things you’ve learned that you wish you knew back then?
Alain:
First, it’s not nervousness — it’s excitement. That shift in mindset changes everything.
Second, treat the times when you’re not working as your off-season. Like in sports, the next season is coming, so use that time to improve or add something new to your skill set — something to bring to the table.
Third — and honestly, I probably should’ve started with this one — don’t let life pass you by. Make every day count. I know that sounds cliché, but it’s real. As actors and artists, we’re always looking ahead: What’s next? How do I get better? That hustle mentality is baked into us, especially if you’re an immigrant — it’s part of your DNA. But looking back, especially at my 20s, I wish I had given myself more grace. I wish I had been more present and appreciated the moments as they were happening.
Fourth, being present actually fuels your creativity. When you live life meaningfully and stay in the moment, you enrich the creative well you pull from as an artist. It’s all connected.
And fifth — celebrate your wins just as much as your losses. I can’t tell you how many times I really sat in and felt my losses — like, “Why didn’t I book that? I suck,” all of that. But when I actually did succeed, I didn’t really celebrate. I never knew why I did that, but now, as I’ve gotten older and more refined in my approach, I make it a point to celebrate those wins. They matter.
Yitzi: Great. Can you share with the readers some of the self-care routines that you use to help your body, mind, and heart thrive?
Alain: Oh my god. I journal every day — that’s one of the main things I do to help process everything I’ve experienced. It’s a big part of my nighttime routine.
Another thing I try to do as much as possible is put my phone away. During the pandemic, we were so tethered to our devices, and while tech can be helpful, too much of it can really mess with your head. So I try to leave my phone in another room when I’m about to sleep. I’m not always successful, but I make the effort.
I also take a lot of long walks. At first, it was for health reasons, but now I do it because it helps me mentally. Just being outside, taking in the air — it really helps me process things.
So those are the three big things I do for self-care. It’s not always perfect, but I try. Oh — and I work out too. I mean, come on, I gotta throw that in there!
Yitzi: Okay, this is our final aspirational question. Alain, because of your great work and the platform you’ve built, you’re a person of enormous influence. If you could spread an idea or inspire a movement that would bring the most amount of good to the most amount of people, what would that be?
Alain: Man, you’re asking some tough questions. That question assumes I have that kind of power.
But I’ll tell you this — as a father, I think about this all the time. I always remind my son that it’s okay to make mistakes. Give yourself grace. When you mess up, don’t beat yourself up. Take a step back, look at what happened, and ask yourself, “What can I learn from this?”
I think we’re often too quick to anger, too quick to be defensive. We don’t always take the time to look inward and ask how we can do better. So, if I could inspire anything, it would be more grace in the world. Grace to make mistakes, grace to grow, and grace to extend kindness to others.
We all come from different walks of life. We’re all motivated by different things, chasing different goals. But at the end of the day, we’re all just trying to survive. And who wants to do that alone?
If we don’t give each other that kind of grace, we end up isolated — and that sucks. So yeah, if there’s one thing I’d love to see more of, and maybe even help spread, it’s grace. Just be kinder.
Yitzi: Brilliant idea. So how can our readers continue to follow your work? How can they watch your shows and films? How can they support you in any way?
Alain: You know, I appreciate the support — I really do. You can follow me on Instagram. I don’t post a ton, but I drop little gems here and there and promote whatever I’ve got going on. And that’s it, man. Smile more. How’s that?
Yitzi: Amazing. Well, Alain, it’s so nice to meet you. Wishing you continued success and blessings. I hope we can do this again next year.
Alain: Thanks, Yitzi. I appreciate it, man. It was great talking to you.
Alain Uy on ‘The Cleaning Lady,’ Colin Farrell’s Advice, and Finding Grace in a Break-Driven Career was originally published in Authority Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.