Today we’d like to introduce you to Adrien Rolet
Hi Adrien, please kick things off for us with an introduction to yourself and your story.
I grew up in the UK as a boy soprano, cocooned in London’s whalebone Anglican churches. For a few hours each week, I would lose myself in the organ’s sighs as they softened the smell of old, carved wood. I made friends and had favorite songs. Retracing the vertebrae of my younger months and years, Sunday Eucharists are proud bumps along their spine.
My home was warm, and bright, but far from static; tables and walls often played the role of holding area for makeshifts and final drafts of various shapes and sizes. My American/Italian mother, a winemaker, was the artist behind this eclectic vision board. A first-degree empath and natural improviser, she has a way of effortlessly attracting loyal followers and materialising the unthinkable, akin to a Biblical miracle-worker. Similarly, my French father can strategise his way out of any predicament — like turning water into wine — as demonstrated by his fierce work ethic and propensity for Dad jokes. I was embedded in the connective tissue of these “shadow artists” whose story was borne of unconditional love.
Performance became even more intimate to my identity as I stumbled into musical theatre. Encouraged by my beloved choir teacher Jeremy Walker, I signed up for auditions with the National Youth Music Theatre, soon embarking on exciting productions with obscenely talented cast=mates from across the UK. For a few years, I laughed, failed, sang, crushed, wept, and minorly injured myself. However, my voice suddenly matured and dropped (ungracefully). So, I pivoted towards “straight theatre” with the National Youth Theatre while picking up the pieces of a newly-broken voice.
High school was complicated. Without a sopranist lifeline to clutch, I was just another dude, and swimming was better than sinking. So, I paid my dues to the Drama department and tried out for shows. Acting became competitive and networking-dependent (much like the industry itself). Every line became rooted in the intent to perfectly deliver–to be “a good actor”, and at times, “a better actor”. From this feeble trunk sprouted a sense of overwrought nobility – that pursuing acting was a measure of my “worthiness of”. Sure, comparison is the thief of joy, but it also robs you of your defencelessness. Being vulnerable and exposed was not encouraged, and thus began several years of sinking into a toxic relationship with performing, continuing well into my college years at Yale.
This explains how I fell in love with science. Swiftly sating a burgeoning need for control, it was presented as a story with no gaps, no questions. Biology, specifically, gave me a framework to interact with the world in which everything had a learned name and known function–something I could hardly say about myself. I was allured by the reassuring maxim that the unknown is dangerous, and science could conquer it. Of course, this is a misrepresentation of what science is, but society functions using these types of stories. There’s a subtle violence in preparing microscope slides, eliminating “bad” data, and isolating DNA from a sample. This obsession with certainty is nigh everywhere you look nowadays, and has too often been used to explain, divide, and oppress “the other”,
As I neared the end of college, however, I became aware that my storytelling had the potential to heal divisions, rather than reinforce them. For example, in a production of Angels In America (pt. 1), where I played Joe, we spent months researching the 80s-present AIDS epidemic, from scientific research on HIV, to queer culture in NYC, to Mormon theology, etc. This brought a sense of urgency and intimacy to my performance because of the reality of the circumstances. The characters were all being forced to process their fear in different ways. So, the process of creating Joe became an embrace of his vulnerability as a closeted Queer Mormon man. Weakness is inherently part of the strength that we can all tap into–we just have to be willing to accept it.
Applying this to my scientific side, I’ve been creating documentaries on the impact of science and public health in people’s lives during times of crisis. There are just so many gray zones and difficult conversations when it comes to medicine and the ecosystem–many communities have been hurt by inconsiderate policies and profit-centered research projects. So, I decided to put my omniscient view of science to the side in order to engage with people with differing perspectives and experiences. My most recent work explored the potential benefits and pitfalls of rare genetic disease therapies, specifically asking folks affected by rare disease how to make scientific funding and awareness paradigms more equitable.
At the moment, I’m living and working as an actor/filmmaker in LA (and sometimes NY). With each audition, acting class, and project, I’m grateful for the opportunity to spend every day working in mediums I love, learning to embrace fear, and creating stories that can bring us all a little closer. Who knows, there may even be some new music on the way in 2025 too!
I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?
Getting used to what learning feels like will always be hard. Yes, there have been some serious low points, just as there have been highs. Losing loved ones, narrowly missing out on big opportunities, and questioning the point of it all–sometimes all at the same time. As an actor, it’s really important to fall into these moments headfirst and just make the most of the moment. That’s because there is always something to be gleaned from hardship–so why not embrace the process?
Alright, so let’s switch gears a bit and talk business. What should we know about your work?
I’m an actor, singer, and scientific documentary-maker known for my breadth of skills in both fields. I can embody a wide variety of characters and accents because I am experienced in telling stories about a wide range of topics: plays, films, poetry, documentaries, science, etc.
I think what really sets me apart is how I understand relationships and social dynamics – the complicated web of communication, trust, openness, fear, etc. that define how we interact with each other is something that I’ve been uniquely positioned to explore. This has happened mainly through interviewing such a wide variety of people and perspectives for my documentaries, and through the various different communities I’ve been a part of so far. This is a unique acting edge that I’m hoping to hone more as I develop my skills throughout life.
Can you tell us more about what you were like growing up?
Energetic, curious, and woefully cringe! As a tween, I had a signature mop of hair that looked uncannily like Justin Bieber — friends would too often ask me to “do the flip”. I put the iconic look to the test when performing Bruno Mars’ Grenade at a talent show while wearing a fedora. You could say I was a little too cool for school.
I used to collect GoGo’s – small plastic figurines you could collect from mystery packets at your local corner store.
I was into MMORPGs like Guild Wars 2, Flyff, Mabinogi, Eden Eternal – some real deepcuts there.
I was also a big manga/anime geek way before it was trendy in the West. I am so grateful to that medium for the fountain of inspiration it has offered me, especially in how visually off-the-wall some shows are. My first mega fav was Soul Eater, it’s still a creative masterpiece! On two occasions, I set up a manga drawing stall at the school fair, where I would give people a small tutorial on how to draw characters/faces/eyes for a small price. I also learned how to do the Naruto summoning hand seal signs. Worst of all, though, I nearly uploaded a video tutorial on “How to carry a Katana the cool way” to YouTube. Thank God it stayed in Drafts. FYI, you rest it over your shoulder and smirk menacingly at the camera. Great way to aura farm.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://adrienrolet.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/baedrien





Image Credits
Truman Crystal
Ben Weiss
Zelda Barnz
