How many action-movie actors have a résumé that reads like this?: Emmy winner, Oscar and Tony nominee, Met Gala co-chair, fragrance ambassador, drag diva in Sabrina Carpenter’s “Tears” video and husband to Raúl, who he cruised at a Walgreens.
The résumé in question belongs to Colman Domingo, and that mosaic précis is what he brings to “The Running Man,” Edgar Wright’s reimagining of Stephen King’s dystopian 1982 novel and the Arnold Schwarzenegger-led thriller adaptation that followed. Wright’s film (in theaters) stars Glen Powell as a working-class father who’s cast on “The Running Man,” a hit game show that pits on-the-run contestants against assassins in a kill-or-be-killed cross-country hunt with a $1 billion prize.
Domingo plays Bobby T, the show’s popular, smooth-talking host, a role originally played by Richard Dawson, the host of the real-life game show “Family Feud,” in the 1987 Schwarzenegger film. Domingo said that going high octane gave him a chance to flex his Billy Flynn pedigree.
“I’ve never played a showman role in a film,” Domingo, 55, said in a recent phone interview. “People know me recently doing more heart-wrenching dramas, and I thought, this gives me a chance to go back to my Broadway roots, where I was known for being more showy. It was nice to pull out those muscles again.”
What made you decide to do an action film?
I had just come off doing “The Madness” for Netflix, which was my own James Bond espionage thriller. When I was offered the idea of playing Bobby T, the most famous game show host in the world, I researched game show hosts and thought, who are the people who can incite people to violence and bring out their ugliest selves? I looked at hosts like Jerry Springer, Maury.
Did you watch the “Springer Show”?
Of course I did. We didn’t know that that was a cultural touchpoint of civility, before reality TV. It affected our political climate — the way people talk to each other, what’s civil and what’s not. “The Jerry Springer Show” became the modern-day Roman Colosseum.
Days before I started shooting, they released that Jerry Springer documentary, and I thought, oh, this is how Bobby T functions. He’s the audience’s best friend but he’s also a bit of a villain, but he doesn’t think of himself that way. He’s getting people riled up because that’s his job. He makes a lot of money and he rests easy while the world is spinning.
Speaking of showman: You’re known for a singular sense of style. Maximalist, I’d say.
I’m literally looking at my stepfather’s sapphire ring on my finger right now. I remember my dad’s hands. He always kept his nails manicured. On Sunday nights he would lay under a lamp and my mother would pluck out his ingrown hairs on his beard. My dad loved to smell good. He was a blue-collar, hard-working dude but he wasn’t like that all the time. When he went out, his tailoring was perfection. His shoes were alligator.
Are you becoming your father?
I have fully become my father and my stepfather. My mother was attracted to men who were a bit of a peacock. I was really raised by my stepfather. But my dad, I would see him every so often. My dad had a canary yellow Cadillac. He loved to show off. I have a little of that too.
It’s one thing to have a sense of fashion but another to be a co-chair of the Met Gala.
I didn’t know the fashion world was something for me until I became embedded in it, when people like Naomi Campbell and Edward Enninful started to say, “You’re made for fashion.” Maybe that’s me being a nerdy, shy guy from West Philadelphia, from a working-class home. I didn’t know it was afforded me. My aspirations in my career were to be a working artist. This chapter of my career I did not imagine. My dreams were pretty simple.
I’m a gay man in my 50s. How do you feel being a gay man in his 50s, which is different from a gay man in his 20s?
I feel sexier. I didn’t feel this way in my 20s or 30s or 40s. I feel I’m getting better at being in my body and being clear about what I do. It’s a gift you’re given when you’re in your 50s, and no one tells you that. You just have to experience it for yourself. When I tell people I’m 55 and they say you look like you’re in your 30s, it’s a compliment. But I also say, no, this is what 55 looks like when you take care of yourself, when you are loved, when you are joyful. I hope I look even better at 65.
