Yvonne Orji on Embracing Her “Endearing” Christianity and “Crazy” Hollywood

Yvonne Orji, like so many of her peers, is eager to get back to work. But as she Zooms from her Los Angeles home office in mid-August, she’s mostly itching to get out of town. “When the strikes end, and I think it’ll be soon, everyone is going to be bat-crap crazy — so get away while you can,” warns the 39-year-old, who inked a first-look deal with Sony just before the WGA strike put everything on hold. “Everyone’s going to start up with the same urgency they had during COVID. We have to show that our jobs are still valuable.”

Thus far, Orji has proved her worth in Hollywood. As a member of striking SAG-AFTRA, she spoke on the condition of promoting only the Sept. 12 paperback release of her 2021 best-selling book, Bamboozled by Jesus: How God Tricked Me Into the Life of My Dreams. But the Nigeria-born actress, comedian, writer, author and producer has done plenty more, including delivering back-to-back HBO comedy specials (2020’s Momma, I Made It! and 2022’s A Whole Me) and earning an Emmy nomination for playing Molly on the landmark series Insecure. Some might be quick to credit all that to her strong immigrant work ethic, but they’d be underestimating the unique (and hilarious) perspective she brings to the business.

There’s a chapter in your book titled “Fear Is Food Poisoning, but Regret Is Herpes.” What led you to that colorful conclusion?

People were nervous about that one. They were like, “Can we keep that? Will people be upset?” It’s not anything for anyone to be upset about! It’s just facts. No one sets out to get herpes. (Laughs.) That doesn’t mean that there is anything bad about them. The situation they’ve found themselves in is just less than ideal. For that chapter, I wanted something very visceral comparing fear and regret that everyone could understand at face value. Food poisoning sucks. But you get an IV drip. You drink Pedialyte. Four days later, you can eat salads again. That’s what fear is. You get through it. Regret is not as easily passable, and every once in a while you get that reminder.

Do you have any professional regrets?

I stand by my decisions and what came from them, but I may have handled them differently. I could have played the game better. I’m a child of immigrants. When you’ve been called a foolish goat by people near and dear to you, you learn directness and honesty. I didn’t realize that part of getting your way [in entertainment] requires the roundabout dance of “Everything is awesome!” It’s not, but you’ve got to pretend it is. My directness didn’t always yield good results.

When did you learn how to play the game?

I still don’t know how to play the game. I just have a really good manager [D.C. Wade at Odenkirk Provissiero] that I distill things through. Like that Key & Peele sketch with President Obama’s anger translator. My manager is my Yvonne translator because I need to be my authentic self in whatever I do. He speaks their language and understands the mental gymnastics it takes to double Dutch around ego and feelings. I don’t have that. Ten percent well spent!

You discuss your Christianity in a lot of your work. Knowing Hollywood’s secular reputation and that some of your takes would make many Christians clutch their pearls, how much do you think about the thin line you often walk?

I do … in a way that’s probably different from what people would expect. I had Christians who were like, “You want to go to Hollywood? They don’t like Christians!” I’m like, “Well, they going to like me.” Those Christians might’ve been trash. I don’t know them! As for me and my house, I try to be open and positive. I’m not beating anyone over the head to believe what I believe. I’m just being me. Lo and behold, people were like, “We can rock with that.” I think that made me endearing.

Was there ever a time when you felt that your taste or beliefs were an issue for anyone?

I’ve found people who don’t wear their Christianity on their sleeves as much as I do but identify with Christianity. But Hollywood is a melting pot — whether you’re Jewish, Muslim or Christian. They’re all here. When I pitch something, it’s like, “Oh, your Nigerian mom is like my Jewish mom.” It is really about finding that commonality. I did have this one show I wanted to pitch. It was a family show, and everyone was like, “It’s about a single girl in L.A. Is there a way to make it very salacious and edgy?” First, that’s been done. Several times. And I’m an immigrant. I grew up on [ABC’s] TGIF. Cut to the pandemic: Same show [about a single girl], and people were like, “What we love about it is that it’s just very family-friendly!” This industry is crazy. Nobody knows what they want.

Insecure took you to the next level. What were your expectations for where your career would go when the show ended — and how does that compare to the reality?

Obviously the show was a big catalyst in my life, but I always knew I was going to make this a career. I really did, though that was after I thought I was going to be somebody’s OB-GYN. So this is a far cry from yeast infections.

A common fallback plan!

But that was it! I was going to be someone’s doctor, but we both would’ve passed out when the baby came out. I do not like blood. But there was a bigness to Insecure. When I went out for my second [stand-up] tour, I talked about how I had to purge that big win. If I didn’t, all of my identity would’ve been wrapped up in it. That would’ve led to depression. That would’ve led to, “What now?” So, for me, it was never an end. It helped that I started solo traveling during the pandemic. You have to be happy if there’s nothing happening. If your worth is derived only by when you are popping, then it’s misplaced. I had to get comfortable in that stillness.

Your family is such a big part of your comedy. And while I understand that there are many labor unions in Nigeria, I’d also imagine your parents are perturbed by the stillness of Hollywood essentially shutting down.

They’re confused by it. I’m like, “Technically, Mom, I don’t have a job.” I haven’t gotten the “You see, this is why it’s good to have a backup plan” conversation yet. But there may have been some, “Well, now’s a good time to settle down and get married.” Yes, in the strike, I should find a husband. But there are African prayers that are helping to curtail the strike, and two of them are from Mike and Celine Orji.

Before I let you go, what’s been the response to your Hertz commercial with Tom Brady? It runs constantly.

My neighbors’ grandkids were in town, and their mom came up to tell me that her 7-year-old son stands in front of the TV and goes, “She’s beautiful!” And they’re like, “The neighbor woman?” (Laughs.) Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a man tell me I’m beautiful? Just give me 20 years. If I’m still single, you’re it, buddy. It was a fun shoot, but I didn’t anticipate how much it would run.

You’re not told beforehand?

When I sign on to YouTube, I’m like, “Me again!” But this is also why we’re striking. People think it’s a national commercial. It’s not. It’s a digital commercial. National would mean I could buy five homes right now with as much as it’s playing. As great as the opportunity was, the way people view the industry, they assume I’m getting residuals. No, I got one check. A good check, a nice check, but a different check than if this was traditional media.

Interview edited for length and clarity.

This story first appeared in the Aug. 23 issue of The Hollywood Reporter magazine. Click here to subscribe.