If you’ve watched an action movie in the past decade, you’ve likely seen Sofia Boutella’s face. It was hidden by makeup and prosthetics in 2016’s Star Trek Beyond and 2017’s The Mummy, partially covered by a band of fringe in 2018’s Hotel Artemis, and surrounded by an oversize cape hood in 2023’s Rebel Moon. But no amount of camouflage can hide Boutella’s uncanny ability to emote through her eyes — the evocative intensity of her gaze provides her lonely aliens, demonic princesses, and vengeance-seeking warriors with robust, unspoken motivations. Her eyes remain profoundly still while the rest of her body — shaped by more than 30 years of dance training, which led her to star in Nike ads and a Michael Jackson music video and go on tour with Madonna — performs a delicate breaking of bones and cartwheels around her scene partners.
Boutella had no formal action training before she landed the role of the sword-footed assassin Gazelle in Matthew Vaughn’s franchise-creating Kingsman: The Secret Service, the henchman to Samuel L. Jackson’s billionaire villain who specializes in Tae Kwon Do–inspired brawls that end with her prosthetics slicing bodies into pieces. It came out the same year as John Wick, directed and produced by former stuntmen Chad Stahelski and David Leitch, which kicked off a stuntman turned filmmaker renaissance and a new wave of Gun Fu. Boutella’s history with freestyle athleticism and a willingness to jump into any choreographed scenario made her an appealing genre player for directors looking to up the ante of high-kicking, close-combat fight scenes. (Ironically, Leitch cast her in a non-action-heavy role opposite Charlize Theron in Atomic Blonde. “It’s an action film where I had no action at all, which I was flattered by, in a way,” Boutella says.) She’d go on to repeat collaborations with Vaughn, work with Zack Snyder, and star in a Sion Sono film. By then, she’d squared off against Tom Cruise, Dave Bautista, and James McAvoy.
The Action Edition
The Action Edition
Her ability to dominate a frame with her body comes across even on Zoom. We’re talking between her film-shoot engagements (Rebel Moon — Part Two is in post-production, and she’ll appear in The Killer’s Game opposite Bautista after that), and as she explains detailed action sequences she’s worked on, she uses her arms and the crown of her head to show me how she hits her mark and times her reactions, ensuring fear, mischief, preparation, and vengeance all come through in her movements, not just her glare. She admits becoming a blade-swinging heroine wasn’t her original plan, but she guards her action persona carefully, calibrating each character’s physicality with certain amounts of hesitation and abandon according to her read on their personalities. Sometimes her process is made easy by great writing; other times, she says she has to provide what’s not already on the page. And she can only hope her thoughtful physical characterization makes it into the final cut.
“Yes, we want more characters for women that are strong in how they’re written,” she says. “But then what you do with the camera and how you edit is also going to indicate something. I feel like the women are being done a disservice in the editing room.”
You are, by my unofficial count, one of the busiest — if not the busiest — female performers in action, with roles in at least ten action films (or action-adjacent sci-fi and thriller films) over the same number of years. How did you get here?
My dance background gave me everything. I had never done any action before Kingsman — never done any martial arts or fight training. I went into my read with Matthew Vaughn, read a scene with him, and he said, “Great. I’m happy. You can go into costume.” Then he said, “Wait a second. Can you do a kick?” I said, “I think.” Because I’m a dancer I can lift my legs quite high, so I did from my memory what a kick looks like, and he said, “Perfect.” I went into training, I learned Tae Kwon Do, and I just applied the discipline of dancing to that. I mean, it’s very much mental.
But it was never my goal to be an action person. I never thought, This is what I want to do. This is something I can do because I’m facilitated by my dance background.
What was your goal?
My desire to act started when I was 17. I booked a movie by chance. I ended up in a casting because they were looking for dancers. I did it and I loved the process, which to me resembled the place I danced from — a place of narrative, of story. I always needed to defend something, to have an arc within my routines. Who is this character? What am I looking for here? When I started acting, I thought, This is the same, but with less physicality. On set when I rehearse my marks, I stand here, I turn here, do that. This is all choreography, right? There are words put to it, but it came from the same place. It was like a variation of my artistry.
I always found movies to be very inspiring to me growing up, and I have parents who are — they’re cinephiles. Do you say cine-philes or cine-philles?
I say cine-philes.
One of my favorite films is Wings of Desire. I love Wim Wenders. I love Paris, Texas. The kind of films that I like are not necessarily around the kind of career I’ve had so far. I don’t take it for granted. I love the action that I’ve done; I just don’t want to solely do that. Hopefully as time goes on, I’ll be able to steer it toward something psychologically more fulfilling. But I try to find that in my roles that are essentially about the action. When I did Rebel Moon, Zack Snyder had something pretty complicated for me to embody, and I tried to bring that to the surface. I knew it was going to be very physical and that would be a big focus of the part, but I wanted her to have a real emotional journey.
What inspired you to audition for your first action film, Kingsman?
At that point, I hadn’t worked in two years. I had stopped dancing; the last time I danced was during the Super Bowl with Madonna. Those two years were hard. I auditioned a lot, and when Kingsman came around, first of all, I knew Matthew Vaughn from the projects he’d done previously, Snatch and Layer Cake. I could see that he’s a very clever, intelligent director. And I loved that the character Gazelle was sweet and a bit naïve but lethal. When she asks Professor Arnold to hold the towels, her “please” [cocks head and softens her tone]. I wanted to find something sweet and cute.
I’m just grateful Matthew was able to see something in me that could be valuable for this part considering I had never done anything physical. He just brought me back for Argylle. He linked Argylle with Kingsman, and I was like, “Matthew, what are you doing?”
So you audition for Kingsman and you’re hired on the spot. You go through all this training. What was the most challenging part of that process?
One aspect that was really hard is that I don’t like to hit people, and a lot of the time the stunt guys will tell you, “No, just go for it! Hit it!” And I’m like, “No, I can’t!” I could hit the dummy. I could hit the cushion. I found it really hard to just actually really try to hit to hurt.
Do you feel like you’re good at hitting stunt people now?
No, I still find it hard. On “cut,” I always go to the stunt guy and ask them if they’re okay. On Rebel Moon, the stunt guys were really amazing, and I got them all lavender Epsom salt and lavender essential oil — something for their bath. I hate the thought of hurting somebody for real.
That’s interesting, because in the first major fight scene in Rebel Moon, I love what your face is doing. You’re holding the ax and the guy is going to grab it. Your face has this level of fear, but it becomes so clear that you’re not afraid of them — you’re afraid of what you’re gonna do to them.
She says at the end, “We’re going to have to fight,” and I wanted that to be, “Fuck, now I’ve opened that door; I have to go in.” [Pauses.] I should move away from characters who are operating from revenge. It’s too much. [Laughs.]
When you’re reading an action-movie script, what exactly makes a part intriguing to you? What makes you think, I want to audition for this? And what turns you off?
I don’t necessarily need to relate to my character. I just need to understand what’s between the lines. When everything is on the page, you literally have to do nothing. That’s the beauty of amazing writing. What draws me away from a part is when I don’t feel the heart. When I feel, Okay, this is not an honest approach to a character, because I don’t know if the person who wrote this really thought in depth about what’s going on with the character. This is just writing for the sake of writing.
It doesn’t always need to be that deep, but I think clever writing — whether it’s action, whether it’s superhero based, whether it’s comedy — you have the heart, and the writer connects with the character. You can feel that when you’re reading a part, like, Okay, it has it. And sometimes it’s not there and you still have to go to work, and it’s your job as an actor to make it up, to go between the lines, and to construct something. I had that conversation with a friend of mine not too long ago. I said, “The truth is, you can put me in any role and I should be able to build something.” Sometimes the more unattractive it is, maybe the more fun it could be, because you’re like, Wow, there is nothing here. What can I do with this? And that would be the challenge.
When you’re reading these scripts and they include an action sequence, does that help you get into the mind of the character? Knowing that the character is going to be physical or has these physical abilities?
No, not necessarily. I was reading the other day something that was very physical. The character was a bit butch, strong, a very emasculating woman, right? She probably has her demons, has her reasons to be the way she is. But I’m 50 pages in, and all I see is tough, tough, tough, tough. She’s with a man, and it’s funny because she is stronger than him. In my mind, I’m like, They haven’t given me the heart yet. I don’t know what’s going on. I haven’t found her vulnerability.
I have to finish reading, because at this point I could literally tell my team, “I’d like to pass and move on.” It could be at the very end, there could be something, but, like, if you wait too long, you let your audience down. I even tell myself, “Let’s say I take this part. Let’s say there is a tiny bit at the end. Let’s say there’s not even a moment at the end. Can I bring it and put it myself?” It makes my job harder because then I have to convince the director that this is how the character should be — at this moment you should see vulnerability. I cannot just play them in one dimension.
Are there characters you’ve played so far to whom you have added that vulnerability? Maybe it wasn’t there in the script, but you’ve built it into your portrayal of the character?
Yeah, I have. I think I did that for The Mummy. I didn’t want to make Ahmanet melodramatic. I wasn’t interested in playing a monster that’s being revived, who just wants to destroy the world. That was not good enough. But that relationship with the father … being fed by emotions like abandonment and rejection. I’m like, Okay, then her being revived is a metaphor, right? And maybe she’s been pushed so far that she’s acting on revenge. Which is not a positive action, but it’s relatable. What has she not understood? What has she not gone through to gain the wisdom to approach it differently?
The journey of Kora in Rebel Moon — I think I found moments in scenes where I could bring vulnerability that wasn’t written. The beauty of working with Zack is that he allowed me to go there. I watch the film now, and I’m like, [Sighs.] “Did I do too much? Did I try to make a meal out of it?” In movie No. 2, you find out something about her past that for me was fun to go through, but I did not know how to forgive the character. Like, how do you keep on living with yourself? There’s a moment where she’s talking with Sam and she’s smiling a little bit — so she’s not just down all the time. She has moments where she laughs. But she carries a massive, massive guilt that needed to show.
When you talk about Kora, you do make it seem like she had uniquely deep emotions that you were excited to play. Did the role feel unique because you’re used to reading action scripts that don’t have that level of depth for female characters?
I see too often in action film — whether characters are played by a man or a woman — that what’s appealing to an audience is that you just want to get rid of what’s going on internally so you can get to the action. They love seeing an explosion and something flying and something zipping and a laser, and we rush too quickly past what is leading us to this place. But for women even more. There are not enough roles for women — roles, period, and interesting roles. People are leading the fight, and they’re leading with their choices so that things do change. But a lot of the time, and still too often considering where we are, women are the vase to carry the flowers for a man.
Do you think that the industry is meaningfully changing?
If this was a few years ago, for Rebel Moon, they would have looked for a male-lead action character. Charlize Theron’s character on Netflix, The Old Guard — a project like that would have not happened if it wasn’t for people pointing out the imbalance and being loud about it. I’m sure if my great-grandmother were still alive, she would look at what we’re doing now and she’d be baffled and impressed and probably very proud. But to some of us, it’s moving too slow. For us, we’re still in the middle of it and we want it now. Sometimes I see the industry as saying, “Okay, we’re going to prove that change is being made, so we’re going to do all these projects.” And sometimes I look at them and the attention to detail wasn’t there as if it was a man.
It is a man’s world. Look at how a man is filmed. For men, the camera punches in. For men, the camera lingers — the editing doesn’t cut away, and it pulls in tight in the eyes. For women, the cut is quick. I see it’s punching in — but then quickly it cuts before you actually get to where we’re supposed to be. You could have come in here [Points at her eyes and her face]. That’s something, honestly, I haven’t heard people talk about. Yes, we want more characters for women that are strong in how they’re written. But then what you do with the camera and how you edit is also going to indicate something. I feel like the women are being done a disservice in the editing room. I’m like, This man wasn’t filmed that way. You stayed. You punched in. You went and looked for the emotion because you wanted me to really get it.
Do you think that it’s affected you?
I’ve seen it for me. Like, “Oh, maybe a close-up there would have been nice, or punching in on the eyes here, or lingering here longer.” But I see it more when I see other films. Like, Fuck, look — the camera stays and stays and stays. But for women, we just cut on something really interesting that you deprived me of experiencing fully. And it’s frustrating. There’s way more love and attention that has been given to male characters than women. And that’s not just on the page. It’s in the edit.
Do you think that’s an action-specific problem or a wider problem?
I think it’s more in action, but it’s an industrywide problem. I feel like there are female directors and female actresses that have a say, and they’re able to stir it in the opposite direction and make a change. But it doesn’t come naturally.
As you’ve pointed out, there is legitimate criticism of action-genre habits. On the other hand, it sometimes feels like action movies are criticized more harshly than other genres and sometimes get more passionately negative reviews than other types of films.
I always thought that I was fully armed to take on those punches, and then I read the critics that came down on Rebel Moon and it really affected me. And I’m just gonna be honest about it. I feel like I’m carrying it for everybody that cared so much about this project, and that’s what affected me. Not the way I look. If anything, I’ve been pretty lucky and people like my work in it, but the movie was criticized. It really affected me for all of those who put so much heart, tears, and sweat in this project. It’s hard to see something being demolished to that extent. I’m proud to have been part of it, and if there is no more Rebel Moon, it will be a very important part of my life that I will defend forever.
Where do you see yourself going from Rebel Moon?
I know my face works more with sci-fi, but I’d love to do something lighter. That’s why I took The Killer’s Game with Dave Bautista. I wanted to play a lighter note. I’d love to play something less intense because I know I can do intensity. I know I can bring the drama to the surface. I’d love to play something a bit … just a human being. Maybe something a bit more naïve and giddy. I don’t know. I’ll find it when I read it. I think it’s always going to be, Oh, there’s a project with this director. That’s appealing. Oh, it’s revenge again? But it’s worth it because this director is thoughtful and considerate and has a body of work that is worth for me to go back to. Then hopefully I don’t have to just do a project because I have to pay the bills. [Laughs.] Because that’s also another aspect. It’s very romantic and beautiful to say, “I want to do projects that resemble this, that do that,” but you have to pay the bills.
At this point in your career, do you feel like you have a signature action move?
I did have a signature dance move that I was known for. It was a bridge reverse that I would slide in on my back, and then pick myself up. I was known for that before Nike, and then I put it in Nike, I put it onstage with Madonna. For action, I don’t think so. Maybe it’s the head — the hair whip. I know that when I did Kingsman, there was the thing that I did with my legs …
Something I noticed a lot is you do the double-knee slide forward. There’s so much of that in Rebel Moon.
The knee slide for dancers is like, “Oh, you have to go from A to B. Just get there as fast as you can — knee slide!”
Do you want to have a signature move?
For you to have a signature move, it needs to be a movement that is known, but it needs to be your flavor. So it cannot just be, “Oh, a round kick is my signature move.” It can be anybody’s signature move. But if you do a round kick and then something else that nobody’s ever done, then it’s my signature move. I haven’t found that yet.