Frankie Rodriguez Makes the Play

“I did not grow up a football person. There are so many rules.”

On initial inspection, Frankie Rodriguez might seem an unlikely draft pick for a football comedy. A 27-year-old California native, he is first and foremost a student of musical theater. Having grown up in an arts-loving family and trained at the American Musical and Dramatic Academy, his breakout role came in the Disney+ mockumentary High School Musical: The Musical: The Series, in which he played the franchise’s first openly gay character, Carlos.

Chad Powers, however, is not your average football comedy. Plus, he’s ready to be recruited: “But if there’s a team you would like to recommend for me to root for this season, I’m open,” he offers.

Rodriguez stars as Danny, the mascot for the fictional South Georgia Catfish, in the series created for Hulu by leading man Glen Powell and writer-producer Michael Waldron, best known for his work in the Marvel universe. Now in its second season, Chad Powers centers on a disgraced quarterback-turned-national laughing stock, played by Powell, who invents a new identity in order to join the Catfish and force his own second chance. The physical transformation, achieved with prosthetics and wigs, is where theater kid Danny comes in.

“At first, I think Danny saw dollar signs,” Rodriguez explains. “He’s this gay kid in a Whiskers costume. No one knows who he is. He doesn’t really have any friends. Then this opportunity comes to him, and he’s like, How can I leverage this?” He becomes Chad’s (whose real name is Russ Holliday) de facto makeup artist and, crucially, the sole keeper of his secret.

The scheme works, perhaps better than they expected: Powers’s on-field prowess turns the fate of the flailing Catfish around. As the stakes rise, the pair develop an unlikely friendship and learn to look out for one another. “They really start to care for each other. They’re in the trenches together, and they’re all each other has,” Rodriguez points out.

The narrative arc is every bit as absurd as it sounds, acting as an engine for zany, consistent laughs. But Powers is more than that. Surrounding Danny and the star quarterback is a motley crew of immediately lovable characters, including head coach Jake Hudson (Steve Zahn), his daughter and assistant coach Ricky (an exceptional Perry Mattfeld), and the outrageous booster Tricia (Wynn Everett). Together, they make the premise a Trojan Horse for surprisingly touching, emotionally investing television.

“That’s all the mind of Michael Waldron,” Rodriguez credits. “He’s a genius who is able to lure you in with these characters and these stories, and then push you back with something you never saw coming. It’s great storytelling.”

In Rodriguez’s eyes, the series’ biggest feat is in taking a bewildering plot and bringing it down to Earth: “It works because it is so grounded. Yes, the premise is crazy, but it comes down to relationships that are so human. The way people are reacting is so real.” He chalks up Powers’s ability to pull it off to its showrunners’ restraint in never overplaying the farce. “It plays like life,” he notes. “Life is actually not that funny. When I’m going through my day, I find myself in situations that are like, If I read this in a script, it would be funny. But when it’s happening to me? I’m not laughing. I would rather be anywhere else.”

The project came to his attention like any other: with a script and an opportunity to audition. In this case, though, Rodriguez knew he wanted in, badly, as soon as he read the pilot. “It was right up my alley. I understood the humor right away. There’s a bite to the dialogue that I really love,” he says. “Then I got to the role of Danny, who was described as an excommunicated theater kid who’s now the mascot, and I was like, Wait, I think I can be in this world.”

Asked about what hooked him, he points to the series’ sensitive side, finding deeper meaning in Russ’s need to hide who he is in order to reinvent himself. “Ultimately, I think the show is really about the parts of ourselves we’re comfortable showing,” Rodriguez explains. “There’s a great scene in the second season between Chad and his dad. They’re having a really truthful, heart-to-heart conversation—but they’re both in masks,” he continues. “The only way they can be real with each other is if they’re wearing masks.”

He filmed his audition in his New York living room, hoping for a callback. “I did something I never do after sending it in,” he confesses. “I asked my team, ‘Will you please keep me updated on this? Even if it’s not in my favor, I want to keep up with this project.’”

Luckily, it was in his favor. Even more luckily, the experience is living up to his first impression. His admiration for his co-stars is palpable, and he is eager to gush at the mention of them. On Powell, he says: “The way he works is how I want to approach my work for the rest of my career.” On Everett: “She’s so fun off-camera, but once we were rolling and she was Tricia…I got chills.” On Mattfeld: “One day, I asked her, ‘Will you just tell me what your process is? Because I feel like I need to be doing that.’” On the cast writ large: “I’m a better actor having worked with all of these people.” A pause. “I hope somebody talks about me like this one day, because I’m obsessed with all of them,” he laughs.

In what was surely a surprise assignment, Rodriguez prepared to play Danny by studying the subculture of sports mascots. “My first question was: Who are the people behind the masks? I always thought it was performers with some sort of dance training, but no—they’re just people who love their school so much,” he says, recounting his discoveries. “Sometimes it’s even passed down through generations. Like, ’My grandpa was the mascot and then my dad did it and now I’m doing it.’” He adds with sweet reverence: “It’s a very prestigious job.”

Getting to speak to real-life, present-day mascots is, as it turns out, a rare privilege. “They’re not supposed to reveal their identity until their time as the mascot is done,” he explains. “So some people wear the feet when they walk down at graduation, or they’ll wear part of the costume in their senior pictures, as a reveal.” Of the mascot-themed discourse around Danny, he laughs: “He does get flack because he takes the head off so much. People were like, ‘The mascot would never do that.’” He responds, good-natured: “I’m just like…‘You know what? Fair.’”

Beyond the catfish costume, and more seriously, Rodriguez does not take the opportunity to play queer characters, whether in Chad Powers or any other project, for granted. “I’m just so thankful to both Michael and Glen for writing not only an openly queer character in their football series, but one who is so central to the story,” he points out. “I hope that it helps to open up people’s minds on how queer characters can fit into any story.“ And adds, humbly: “I’m just so honored every time a creative says, ‘That’s the person to tell this part of the story.’”

He credits co-star Powell for Chad Powers’s highly collaborative creative environment and commitment to getting Danny right. “On the first day we shot together, he asked me so many questions about the script and costumes. He said, ‘If you feel like your character wouldn’t do something, please say it. I want you to feel that you have full ownership over this role,’” he remembers. “That set the tone. I knew I was free to speak my mind. I’m safe here.”

This level of care and respect is crucial because, to Rodriguez, queerness is a non-negotiable starting point. “Truthfully, every character I play will be gay. That’s not, like, a gag or a gimmick. It’s just the part of who I am that I’m going to pour into every character,” he says, matter-of-factly. “You see it in my mannerisms, you hear it in my voice, you see it in my clothes, in the things that I choose to express to the world. Because I’m so open with all of that, it always translates to my characters, and specifically to Danny.”

He does not view this position as limiting, nor does he believe it puts him in a box. In fact, he feels the opposite is true: with queerness as a given, he can explore its many, varied expressions and expand what representation looks like. “I don’t ever see myself, or even really have an interest in, playing a straight character,” he says with refreshing candor. “It’s not like I’m sitting there and thinking, How can my queer voice shine through? It’s just that I am who I am, which is proud and openly gay. Take it or leave it.”

If his on-camera razor-sharp comedic timing and off-camera passion and humility are anything to go by, more will take it than leave it. For now, though, he’s all in on Chad Powers: “If I could, I would personally write a hundred more seasons so we never have to look for a job again and can just be together.” He even found a way to reconcile sport with cultural territory more familiar to him: “Football really is just theater. The stadium is a stage. There are just tens of thousands more people watching.”

Chad Powers is now streaming on Hulu.