For Bryan Okoye, acting has never been about comfort or familiarity. It has always been about transformation.
Born and raised in Jos, the multilingual Nigerian actor has quietly built one of the most compelling careers of his generation, moving seamlessly across genres, languages, and emotional terrains. Fluent in French, English, Patois, Igbo, and Pidgin, Bryan brings an unusual depth to every role he inhabits far beyond just accent or delivery, but in full embodiment and playing the character truthfully.
From his breakout performance in My Name Is Azed, which earned him international recognition and a Best African Actor nomination at the Septimius Awards in Amsterdam, to award-winning turns in For Ikemefuna, Criminal, Chetam, Black Pepper, Tinsel, and several romantic fan-favourites on YouTube, Bryan has consistently resisted being boxed in.
Most recently, his haunting portrayal of Chizoba in Etiti — a madman, fallen prince, and spiritual vessel which has sparked widespread conversation. It is a performance that moves from chaos to clarity, madness to memory, and erasure to royalty.
We sat with Bryan Okoye to talk about versatility, choosing roles, building craft across cultures, and what comes next.
Etiti has introduced you to a wider audience in a very powerful way. When you first read the script for Chizoba, what stood out to you immediately?
Funny enough, when I was first offered the role of a mad man, ever before reading the script, I laughed it off, thinking to myself “how the hell do these people expect me to come and play just a mad man for two months?” But when I finally saw the script, what stood out to me immediately was that Chizoba was not written as “mad” for spectacle. His madness had weight, history, and purpose. Beneath the chaos was a man carrying loss, betrayal, pain, and a stolen identity. I was drawn to the vulnerability in him. This character is every passionate actor’s dream. A character with such a rich character arc, a complex character that is multidimensional.
I also loved that Chizoba existed between worlds: sanity and insanity, truth and illusion, past and present. That tension made him human and divine, and tragic, not just a plot device. From the first read, I knew he was a character that required research, hard work, honesty, restraint, and deep emotional listening, and that excited me as an actor.
Chizoba is many things at once — a madman, a fallen prince, a prophetic vessel. How did you approach playing a character with so many layers without letting one overpower the other?
I approached Chizoba by first stripping away the labels. I didn’t want to play “madness,” “royalty,” or “prophecy” as separate ideas. I played a man who had been broken and displaced. Once I anchored myself in his humanity, the other layers found their balance.
Grounding myself in his physical and emotional truth was something I wanted to do. I paid close attention to posture, rhythm, and voice—how a man who has lost his mind and his place in the world might sound, move, and exist, and also how a man of royalty would instinctively carry himself, even without conscious memory of who he is. Once that foundation was set, the layers revealed themselves naturally depending on the demands of each scene. The madness showed up in broken patterns, the prince in instinctive dignity, and the prophetic vessel in moments of heightened awareness. My goal was control and balance, so no single aspect overwhelmed the others.
If one layer became too loud, it would weaken the others.
Spiritually, I saw Chizoba as a man chosen to carry truths he didn’t yet understand. I trusted intuition and surrender more than explanation. The madness wasn’t chaos—it was access. The prince was memory stored in the body, and the prophetic side emerged through stillness rather than force.
In preparation, I studied films featuring great actors who had portrayed characters with mental illness, paying close attention to restraint and authenticity. I did a lot off historical and cultural research, I also visited Yaba Psychiatric Hospital, where I spoke with doctors and observed patients. That research helped me approach Chizoba with empathy, truth, respect, and a deeper sense of responsibility. Big appreciation to Dr. Antwi who was very helpful even though he didn’t know who I was before my visit to the hospital.
The performance has been described as haunting and deeply human. What emotional or psychological preparation did this role demand from you?
This role demanded a lot of emotional honesty, patience, focus and psychological discipline. From the prep part to get into character each day. It would take approximately 1 hour to get my mad man make up done. I had to sit with discomfort most of the time. I had to allow myself access to very fragile emotional spaces while also protecting my mental well-being. Chizoba carries abandonment, vulnerability, confusion, and suppressed memory, so my preparation involved sitting with discomfort and learning not to rush emotional moments.
I spent time building inner stillness so that I could respond truthfully rather than perform emotion. A lot of the work was about listening: both to my scene partners and to what the character was experiencing internally. The preparation was less about control and more about availability—letting the character pass through me while staying grounded in myself.
I also made sure to decompress after intense scenes, creating clear boundaries between myself and the role. That balance was necessary to keep the performance truthful without it becoming overwhelming. Prayer was also a major part of my process.
Viewers start out dismissing Chizoba, only to later realise he carries the truth everyone else is running from. What do you think this character says about how society treats people it doesn’t understand?
. I think Chizoba speaks directly to how society often responds to discomfort. When we don’t understand someone, we label them, dismiss them, or push them to the margins. It’s easier to call someone “mad” than to sit with what they might be revealing about us.
Chizoba carries truths people are afraid to face—about guilt, betrayal, and buried history. Because those truths are inconvenient, he is ignored. The character reminds us that clarity doesn’t always come from places that look respectable or orderly. Sometimes it comes from the broken, the silenced, or the misunderstood. In the same way, the character highlights the stigma society places on people it doesn’t understand, especially those dealing with mental illness. Once someone is labeled “mad,” their voice is dismissed, their humanity overlooked, and their truth ignored. We stop listening, and in doing so, we lose valuable insight. It reminds us that mental illness does not totally erase wisdom, memory, or value. In fact, Chizoba carries clarity precisely because he exists outside society’s expectations. His journey challenges us to confront our fear of difference and to replace judgment with empathy, patience, and genuine listening.
Ultimately, Chizoba challenges us to listen more deeply and question who we choose to believe. Wisdom doesn’t always wear a crown; sometimes it walks barefoot and is written off too quickly.
You’ve played everything from lovers to criminals to warriors, and now a cursed royal figure. What criteria do you consider before accepting to play a role?
Before accepting a role, I first consider the humanity of the character. I’m drawn to roles that are layered, truthful, and demand emotional honesty. Beyond that, I actively seek characters that challenge me and require me to step far outside my normal self. If a role doesn’t stretch me, it doesn’t excite me.
I’m especially drawn to characters that demand transformation—whether that’s changing my physical appearance or learning a new skill. For My Name Is Azed, I cut off dreadlocks I had grown for four years. For Criminal, I bleached my hair and committed to intense physical training. For FOR IKEMEFUNA, I had to learn to ride Okada. For Black Pepper, I had to lose weight. And for Etiti—as you can see—I don’t even need to explain the level of transformation that went into bringing Chizoba to life.
I also consider the story being told and the people telling it. A strong vision, cultural honesty, and a safe creative environment matter to me. When the character, the story, and the team align, I’m all in.
Your breakout role in My Name Is Azed earned international recognition, and For Ikemefuna went on to win you Best Supporting Actor in Chicago. How did those moments shape your confidence and direction early in your career?
Those moments were very affirming, especially early in my career. My Name Is Azed showed me that honest, culturally specific stories could travel far beyond where they were made, and that gave me confidence in trusting my instincts as an actor. Seeing that work resonate internationally reminded me that truth is universal. Being nominated alongside incredible actors from across Africa, and in the same category as performers like Stan Nze was deeply humbling. It placed my work in a larger continental conversation and reminded me that I was part of a generation pushing African storytelling forward.
Winning Best Supporting Actor in Chicago for For Ikemefuna was another pivotal moment. It wasn’t just about the award—it was validation that discipline, patience, and commitment to craft were being noticed. It encouraged me to be more intentional with my choices and less driven by speed or visibility.
Together, those experiences helped shape my direction. They taught me to prioritize depth over hype, preparation over shortcuts, and stories that stay with people long after the screen goes dark.
You’re fluent in multiple languages — French, English, Igbo, and rumour has it that Hausa is on that list. How did that come about, and how has being multilingual influenced your acting and the kind of roles you’re drawn to?
I’m actually fluent in English, French, Patois and Igbo. I learnt French in a French school Institut Francais du Nigeria, which is a subsidiary of the French embassy. Since my teenage years I’ve been interested in Reggae, Patiois and dance hall, doing extensive research on it. Unfortunately, despite growing up in the North, I don’t speak Hausa, and that’s something I genuinely regret. Living there exposed me to the language and culture, but I didn’t fully take advantage of the opportunity at the time. It’s one of those things you wish you had embraced earlier, I wish the circumstances were different.
Being multilingual however, has deeply influenced my acting. Language shapes rhythm, emotion, and even physicality, so switching between languages helps me access different emotional registers and ways of thinking. It has made me more attentive to nuance and more adaptable as a performer. It has also shaped the kinds of roles I’m drawn to. I’m naturally attracted to stories that cross cultures and borders, characters who exist between worlds, and narratives that reflect the layered identities many Africans carry. Language, for me, isn’t just a tool—it’s a bridge to deeper truth and connection.
Nelson Mandela once said “if you speak to a man in a language he understands, you speak to his ears. But if you speak to a man in his mother tongue, you speak to his heart.” So it’s a thing of beauty and gratitude to see how some of my performances in other languages endear me to native speakers of those languages.
You’ve worked across major platforms like Prime Video, Showmax, Africa Magic, YouTube and independent films. What have projects like Criminal, Chetam, Black Pepper, and Tinsel taught you about range and adaptability?
Working across platforms like Prime Video, Showmax, Africa Magic, YouTube, and independent films has taught me a lot about range and adaptability. Each project comes with its own style, pace, and audience expectation, so I’ve had to adjust how I approach performance while staying truthful to the character.
Projects like Criminal, Chetam, Black Pepper, and Tinsel challenged me in different ways—physically, emotionally, and even technically. Some required intense physical transformation or learning new skills, others demanded subtlety and restraint. Each taught me to listen more, to be present in the moment, and to trust that flexibility and discipline can coexist.
Also, working on YouTube projects, for example where shooting schedules are very tight, taught me to learn my lines quickly, stay focused, and be ready for rapid shifts on set. In contrast, projects like Chetam, which are shot over extended periods, require patience, the ability to coexist and build trust with cast and crew, and maintaining consistency over time.
Ultimately, these experiences reinforced that versatility isn’t just about showing different sides of yourself—it’s about honoring the story, respecting the platform, and committing fully to whatever world you’re stepping into.
Even as a versatile actor, which of the characters you played on Etiti would you say you found the most challenging?
Without a doubt, playing the Mad Man was the most challenging role on Etiti. His character demanded complete immersion, emotionally, physically, and spiritually. Balancing his madness, his lost royal identity, and his role as a prophetic vessel required constant focus and restraint. One wrong move could make the performance feel unbalanced or inauthentic.
Some scenes required me to channel my voice in ways I had never done before, including screaming at full volume, which actually caused me to lose my voice at times. The makeup process added another layer of challenge—it usually took about an hour to put on and 30 minutes to remove, just enough to be clean for the bus ride and a 30-minute shower at the hotel. While made up, my movements were limited; I couldn’t eat without messing up the beard, so someone often had to feed me.
Beyond the physical demands, the role pushed me to confront deep human emotions—loss, betrayal, and vulnerability—that are not easy to access. It required total presence, intense listening, and trust in subtlety. It was exhausting at times, but every breakthrough made the character more truthful and resonant, which has been incredibly rewarding.
Many actors struggle with being typecast, but your career suggests the opposite. What mindset has helped you avoid repetition and stay true to your craft?
I think the mindset that has helped me avoid repetition is a combination of curiosity, discipline, and fearlessness. I actively seek roles that challenge me, that require me to step outside my comfort zone, and that push me to explore different aspects of humanity. I don’t take the easy or predictable path just because it’s familiar—I want every role to teach me something new about craft and life.
Maybe it’s also because I’ve always hoped for a plethora of roles in my mind, and somehow the universe is listening! That wish keeps me open, hungry, and willing to take on characters that stretch me in new ways.
I also see acting as a continuous learning process. Each character, whether a lover, warrior, criminal, or cursed royal, is an opportunity to expand my emotional range, physicality, and perspective. By staying intentional about the stories I choose and the people I work with, I can avoid repetition and remain fully committed to truth, honesty, and versatility in every performance.
Looking ahead, what kind of stories or characters excite you now? Are there roles or genres you feel ready to explore next?
Looking ahead, I’m excited by stories that challenge perception and explore the complexity of human nature. I’m drawn to characters who live in tension—between light and dark, tradition and change, or reality and the supernatural. I want to continue taking on roles that push me physically, emotionally, and psychologically, while telling stories that leave a lasting impact on audiences.
I’ve also always craved action roles, so I’m eager to explore more in that space; characters that demand physicality, stunts, and high-energy performance. Beyond that, I’m ready to explore new genres and formats; period dramas (not necessarily traditional epics cuz I feel like I’ve done quite a number of those lol), psychological thrillers, and even science fiction—anything that stretches my craft in fresh ways.
Ultimately, I’m excited by roles that force me to grow, adapt, and transform, because that’s where the most meaningful work comes from.
Finally, for young actors watching Etiti and discovering your work for the first time, what do you hope they learn from your journey so far?
For young actors watching Etiti and discovering my work, I hope they see that perseverance, curiosity, and commitment to craft really matter. I want them to understand that every role—big or small—can teach you something and leave an impact if you approach it with honesty and discipline.
I also hope they learn to embrace challenges, even when it feels uncomfortable. The roles I’ve taken on have often required me to step far outside my comfort zone, physically, emotionally, and mentally, and that’s where growth happens.
Most importantly, I hope they see that staying true to yourself, being patient, fully committing to the craft and being intentional about the stories you tell will always pay off. Success isn’t just about visibility; it’s about respect for your craft and the impact your work can have on audiences in the long term.
Conclusion
With Etiti, Bryan Okoye delivers a performance that lingers long after the screen goes dark. Chizoba’s journey — from madness to memory, exile to inheritance — mirrors the kind of layered storytelling Bryan has built his career on.
In an industry that often rewards familiarity, he continues to choose risk, depth, and transformation. Whether playing a lover, a criminal, or a cursed prince speaking truths from the margins, Bryan Okoye is showing us how versatility is a great tool for a committed actor.
And as his body of work continues to grow across continents and platforms, one thing is clear: this is only the beginning of a career defined not by repetition, but by range.
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