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Brendan Fraser, 57, Has Nothing Left to Prove

The actor faced down depression and career doldrums to reach new career highs in his 50s


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On a chilly Los Angeles morning in November, Brendan Fraser looks more like a friendly suburban sports dad than a movie star. In two weeks, he will turn 57. But today, in person, he comes across as so boyish and playful and hopped up on caffeine that he seems like he could — and just might — bench-press a minivan. Fraser may not have quite the same traffic-stopping fame of some of his peers, but when he walks into the restaurant of a posh Beverly Hills hotel, his hair still wet from a post-workout shower, nearly every neck in the room swivels in his direction. It must happen a lot, because Fraser hardly seems to notice.

Before he even sits down, Fraser tells the waitress (and anyone else within a thousand paces) that he’s famished. And his breakfast order bears this out: avocado toast, poached eggs, turkey sausage, orange juice, water and coffee “fully leaded, please.” Not that you’d notice, but Fraser says he’s running on fumes this morning. His earlier flight from the East Coast — he lives on a horse farm in Bedford, New York — was canceled at the last minute, so he’s operating on just a few hours of sleep in a strange bed and a new time zone. But none of this prevents him from launching into the first in a series of dad jokes. As he approaches the table, he makes a big show of grabbing the edge of the white tablecloth and pretending to yank it, like a magician who miraculously manages to keep all of the plates and silverware in place. It appears this is Fraser’s way of breaking the ice. He’s a ham … in the best possible way.

Other than shoveling down calories and channeling Houdini, Fraser is here to discuss the highs and lows of his 35-year career, his life off-screen and the personal struggles he’s dealt with along the way. If Brendan Fraser’s life were a movie, what kind would it be? You wouldn’t call it a tragedy. By any conceivable metric, the Oscar-winning actor has had a charmed and very well-compensated career. But it wouldn’t be a lighthearted romp, either. There have been too many whiplash-­inducing twists and deflating turns for that. Too many stretches when the phone wasn’t ringing. Too many moments of depression and insecurity. Let’s call it an underdog drama with a later-in-life triumph arc.

He appears here on the eve of his latest movie, Rental Family, a charming crowd-pleaser that tells the story of an American expat working as an actor in Tokyo who lands a job with a rental-family service, meaning he’s hired to play the roles of friends and relatives in various (usually awkward) social situations.

brendan fraser posing for a portrait inside a vintage truck, wearing a cowboy hat and blue chambray shirt
“For a long time there, I felt like I disappointed people because I hadn’t met their expectations,” says Brendan Fraser. “But I’m still here, you know? This is what I do.”
Photographed by Peter Yang. Produced by Michael Klein/Circadian Pictures; wardrobe stylist direction: Sam Spector; on-set stylist: Brooke Llewellyn; groomer: Sonia Lee for Exclusive Artists using Alba1913

In person, Fraser’s pale blue eyes convey empathy, decency, the traits we perhaps value most in a friend or relative. He’s 6 foot 2½ and more filled out than when most of us first laid eyes on him, in 1990s films like School Ties and The Mummy; his erect posture and bullish neck evoke a former college athlete who still keeps in good shape. He’s also surprisingly earnest. He’s not just a talker; he listens. Deeply. More than anything, though, Fraser seems to be the kind of guy who’s incapable of hiding his emotions — off-screen, at least. It’s all right there on the surface. What you see is what you get.

That sort of guilelessness isn’t something you can easily fake, even if you’re an actor. And it probably helps explain why Fraser has managed to so often shine in an unforgiving industry for the past 3½ decades. During that time, Fraser has appeared in sensitive, critically acclaimed dramas (Gods and Monsters), goofball kiddie comedies (George of the Jungle), popcorn-friendly blockbusters (three Mummy installments, with a fourth on the way) and award-winning prestige films (The Whale).

He’s the acting equivalent of a Swiss Army knife — always dependable, always prepared and always up to the task.

“For a long time there, I felt like I disappointed people because I hadn’t met their expectations,” he says. “But I’m still here, you know? This is what I do.”

Growing up all over, Fraser never got too comfortable. His constantly on-the-go family lived at the mercy of a mysterious figure they called Mr. Ottawa. Fraser’s parents were Canadian — his mother from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, his father from the eastern Maritimes. “My mom was raised on the prairie, and my dad grew up in a blue-collar part of the country where you either mined coal or pulled lobster traps,” he says. Fraser’s dad worked for Canada’s tourism bureau, which basically forced the family to relocate whenever his bosses decided there was an American city that needed to discover the wonders of the Great White North. “We were at the whims of Ottawa,” Fraser says, between coffee refills. “Our family had a joke that Mr. Ottawa, whoever that was, had a dart and threw it over his shoulder onto a map, and that’s where we went.”

Fraser was born in Indiana during a brief moment in the late ’60s when the Canadian government apparently thought there might be a lot of Hoosiers with an appetite for maple syrup and poutine. Over time, the family also (briefly) settled in The Hague in the Netherlands and Seattle, among other places. As a result, Fraser and his three older brothers were always the new kids at school. “It’s just what we did,” he says. “I didn’t know another way. You just keep moving and keep reinventing yourself” — apt training for an actor.

brendan fraser posing for a portrait while seated on a bar stool, wearing a dark green button down shirt and blue jeans
“In this job, you live in a constant state of panic, and you can’t get too comfortable,” says Fraser, who was photographed for AARP The Magazine on Nov. 11, 2025, in Los Angeles.
Photographed by Peter Yang. Produced by Michael Klein/Circadian Pictures; wardrobe stylist direction: Sam Spector; on-set stylist: Brooke Llewellyn; groomer: Sonia Lee for Exclusive Artists using Alba1913

Even though he was always trying to fit in and seeking approval, he ended up disappointing high school football coaches, because it turns out he’s a lover, not a fighter. “They all took one look at me and wanted me on the team. I was tall, and I seemed like an athlete,” he says. “But I didn’t like the part where you smashed into each other and got hurt. I mean, why? It just wasn’t for me.” He preferred solitary sports like the javelin, where, he says, “It’s just you and a spear, and you try to throw it farther each time. That, I understood.”

From his minor role in a high school play and watching a few others in London while vacationing with family, Fraser became enamored of acting. So he decided to apply to a small arts college in the Seattle area, where he was living at the time. He auditioned for the last remaining opening in the incoming class. Looking back, Fraser admits he was probably terrible, but when he called the admissions office the following week, he was told he was in.

The glamour part of the profession was elusive. Take his first paying job as an actor: “I played the mascot for Mr. Lock-it-Up’s self-storage units at the grand opening on Aurora Avenue in Seattle,” he says. As he tells this story, Fraser shakes his head and begins to laugh. “There was another guy dressed like a Keystone Kop, and I remember bringing my own makeup kit because I took it very seriously. Meanwhile, I’m standing by the side of the road next to a sign, beckoning drivers to come on in and pick out a storage-locker unit. I’ve never been flipped off more in my life!” Fraser made $14 an hour that day. He was over the moon.

Fraser’s first non-storage-unit, big-screen job was in the 1991 film Dogfight, starring River Phoenix, the wildly talented young actor who died of a drug overdose in 1993. Then 22, Fraser played Sailor No. 1. It wasn’t much of a role, but it earned him his Screen Actors Guild card. The very next year, Fraser, who is not Jewish, would end up starring in School Ties as a Jewish scholarship athlete (football, of course!) fighting for his place at a Waspy boarding school that’s rampant with antisemitism. It’s a good movie, and Fraser starred alongside up-and-comers like Matt Damon, Ben Affleck and Chris O’Donnell. Fraser didn’t have much experience on movie sets yet, but he could tell he was involved in something special. “We were all hungry,” he says. “It felt like this was all of our big shot.” Fraser recalls playing basketball in Damon’s driveway — and then being filled with pride five years later when Damon and Affleck stood on stage at the Academy Awards, clutching their Oscars for Good Will Hunting.

Although Damon and Affleck would win their Oscars sooner, it was Fraser who made his mark first on the big screen, getting cast in fizzy lightweight comedies like ​Encino Man (frozen caveman is thawed out in the MTV era), Airheads (dim rock band takes a radio station hostage) and George of the Jungle, which, in typical dad-joke fashion, he describes as the movie that tons of parents played on the VCR to keep their kids occupied. (“I was the babysitter tape when Mommy and Daddy wanted some alone time,” he quips.) It’s fair to say that while Fraser wasn’t always a critics’ favorite during that early chapter, he gave glittering performances that garnered their attention and respect, such as his star turn with Ian McKellen in the acclaimed drama Gods and Monsters.

And then, a year later, he became one of the most bankable stars in Hollywood, when he was cast as a can-do adventurer in 1999’s The Mummy, a summer tentpole that would spawn the most lucrative role of his career, earning $417 million in theaters that year and launching a franchise.

By that point, Fraser was married to Afton Smith, and three sons came along quickly thereafter. Despite all the outward success he was having in Hollywood, in private Fraser began experiencing something that still torments him: depression. Acting, of course, is a profession that comes with an unavoidable degree of job insecurity. You can never be sure when your next job is coming, nor how your work will be judged. Yes, the success of The Mummy allowed him to breathe. But his depression returned with a vengeance following a 2003 incident involving a former president of the Hollywood Foreign Press Association. At an event, Fraser alleged, the man groped his rear end. The executive initially denied the allegation but later wrote that he had pinched Fraser “in jest.” The incident sent Fraser spiraling into a dark place.

“In this job, you live in a constant state of panic, and you can’t get too comfortable,” Fraser says. “I’ve learned to check in with myself and constantly reevaluate what’s important. And you also need to ask for help when you need it. Early on, I didn’t know you could ask for help. I only saw the stigma of it. I was afraid to say, ‘I need a hand.’ ”

When he’s asked if needing a hand means therapy, he says, “Absolutely! Reaching out to friends, getting the exercise you need, even having a bit of breakfast, like we’re doing right now. They’re small things, but when you’re dealing with those feelings, they can make a monumental difference.”

Perhaps surprisingly, given how some stars look down on meet-and-greet fan conventions, Fraser says these interactions have had a huge, positive impact on his mental health. “People will come up to me and show me tattoos of characters from The Mummy or tell me that they became an archaeologist because of my character. That’s the greatest feeling in the world.”

The Mummy would keep Fraser busy and comfortably employed for the next decade. But what the movie gods give, they can just as easily take away. By the third installment, 2008’s The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor, Fraser had badly injured his back doing stunts. A series of surgeries followed. Suddenly, he was an above-the-title blockbuster hero whose spine was held together by nuts and bolts, facing physical challenges on set — and at home.

Jeanne Moore and Brendan Fraser posing for a photo on the red carpet
Jeanne Moore and Brendan Fraser attend AARP The Magazine’s 21st Annual Movies For Grownups Awards at Beverly Wilshire, A Four Seasons Hotel on Jan. 28, 2023, in Beverly Hills, California.
FilmMagic

Fraser’s oldest son, Griffin, is 23. With no small amount of pride, Fraser calls him an “ASD kid” (referring to autism spectrum disorder). Griffin is 6 foot 5 and has a habit of greeting his dad with vise-tight bear hugs. When he does, Fraser winces through the agony because, well, the pain is worth it.

Listening to Fraser talk about his three sons (Holden is 21, Leland is 19), it’s obvious he considers being a good dad his greatest accomplishment. He’s been divorced from the boys’ mother, Smith, since 2007 and is in a committed relationship with makeup artist Jeanne Moore, with whom he is often seen walking hand in hand on red carpets. You get the sense that if everything went away tomorrow — the fame, the first-class travel, the seven-figure paychecks — he’d be fine with it as long as his sons were happy and thriving. When he’s asked for a bit of advice he might offer parents, Fraser breaks into a wide grin. “Don’t get in the way.”

That’s it?

“That’s it. Sure, children need guidance, but you can micro­manage them to their detriment. I never learned as much about anything as I have from just watching and listening and letting them teach me rather than the other way around.”

Leland Fraser, Brendan Fraser and Holden Fraser posing for a group portrait
(From left) Leland Fraser, Brendan Fraser and Holden Fraser attend “The Whale” premiere at Alice Tully Hall in New York, NY, on Nov. 29, 2022.
Photo by Efren Landaos/Sipa USA)

Knowing that all actors’ careers ebb and flow doesn’t make it any less difficult when the inevitable ebb comes. And in the 2010s, Fraser’s career was in the doldrums. He never stopped working — he racked up 17 film and television credits from 2010 to 2019 — but the movies he appeared in were smaller, less star-studded and often just overlooked. He knew he wasn’t connecting with audiences the way he once had, and it gnawed at him. Already prone to depression, Fraser found this dark period particularly challenging. “The silences in a career can be deafening,” he says.

Throughout Fraser’s decade-long exile from the A-list, he continued to do what he’s always done, even when he was riding high: He put his head down and worked. But Fraser’s slump in the 2010s would end up making what happened next that much sweeter.

During the COVID pandemic, Fraser got word that he’d won the lead role in Darren Aronofsky’s The Whale. The celebrated director of The Wrestler and Black Swan was itching to shoot Samuel Hunter’s 2012 stage play about a 600-pound shut-in named Charlie who’s trying to reconnect with his daughter before his weight literally crushes him to death. It was an intense and emotionally devastating script, and Fraser knew it would be an especially tricky role to pull off, both physically and emotionally. He also knew it came with the kind of responsibility he hadn’t had in years. The film would either succeed or tank based solely on his performance.

One of the strangest rumors to arise while Fraser was shooting The Whale was that he had somehow managed to pack on 300-plus pounds for the part. When I mention this, he can’t help but crack up. “Like everyone else who was sequestered at home during COVID, I put on a few pounds,” he says. “But that was helpful to Darren. When I met with him, he tactfully said, ‘Can you keep those pounds on? Can you just sort of maintain where you are now?’ ”

It turns out that the extra 15 or 20 pounds he was carrying actually helped with applying the massive prosthetics to his body. Fraser pulls out his phone and shows me time-lapse videos of being turned into Charlie. “This was before they came up with the COVID vaccine, so in the back of my head I’m thinking, This may be the last time we get to do this job. That gave me the fuel to leave everything on the field.”

brendan fraser smiling, holding his best actor oscar statue
Fraser poses after winning the Best Actor in a Leading Role award for “The Whale” at the 95th Annual Academy Awards at Ovation Hollywood on March 12, 2023 in Hollywood.
FilmMagic

As soon as critics and industry types began attending advance screenings of The Whale, Fraser found himself in a position he’d never been in: His name was being batted around in the same breath as the word “Oscar.” And since Hollywood loves an underdog story, all of a sudden he began to notice that his career — the good, the bad and the forgettable — had become part of a larger, Lazarus-like comeback narrative. The same industry that, until recently, had been indifferent to him had taken him under its wing and was cheering him on.

Fraser admits it felt amazing, even if he wasn’t entirely comfortable with people using the word “comeback” or the more coy “Brenaissance.”

“I understood why people were framing it as a comeback, but the truth is, I never went that far away,” he says.

When he won best actor at the 2023 Academy Awards for The Whale, Fraser says, laughing, “I don’t remember what I said at all! I can feel the atmosphere if I really think about it, but that’s it.” Regardless, that night Fraser’s comeback story was finally complete. The man who had started off as a storage-facility sales mascot had won the biggest accolade Hollywood offers. “Before The Whale, I had everything to prove,” he says. “And now, to be honest, not so much.” Fraser felt like he could move on. But move on to what? “That was sort of the big question,” Fraser says. “When I finished The Whale, I thought, I’ve got no more moves.”

brendan fraser posing for a portrait seated on the hood of a vintage pickup truck, wearing a cowboy hat and blue chambray shirt
Winning the Oscar allowed Fraser to focus less on where he stood in the Hollywood pecking order and more on his characters and role selections.
Photographed by Peter Yang. Produced by Michael Klein/Circadian Pictures; wardrobe stylist direction: Sam Spector; on-set stylist: Brooke Llewellyn; groomer: Sonia Lee for Exclusive Artists using Alba1913

There was one director, though, who thought Fraser’s next role should turn his new reality on its head: He should play a washed-up small-time actor. Hikari, the Japanese director of Fraser’s new film, Rental Family, remembers attending a special screening of The Whale before the 2023 Oscars. When the film was over, Fraser was beamed in via Zoom for a post-screening Q&A. Seeing his face projected onto the screen, bigger than life, she knew she’d found the star of her new movie. “When I saw him speak and witnessed how kind and generous and compassionate he was, I said, ‘That’s my guy!’ ”

The feeling turned out to be mutual. Winning the Oscar allowed Fraser to focus less on where he stood in the Hollywood pecking order and more on his characters and role selections. And you can see that sense of freedom in Rental Family. Fraser calls the movie “a love letter to loneliness.” He’s not wrong. But the movie is also a lot more fun than that sounds. Fraser speaks Japanese in the film and taps into previously untapped reservoirs of feeling and hurt and vulnerability. It’s a hell of a post-Oscars encore. And with the recent headline that he’s planning on starring in a brand-new, big-budget Mummy sequel (the first since 2008), his hot streak isn’t likely to end anytime soon. “I have no regrets,” he sums up as breakfast winds down. “There’s no reason to take my foot off the gas.”

And with that, Brendan Fraser gets up and, like any great showman spying a new audience, again prepares to workshop his tablecloth magic act, this time for a nearby couple who have pulled out their phones to capture the bit on video. He even takes the gag a bit further, stopping just short of sending his half-finished breakfast flying. The couple laughs. Fraser grins and laughs right along with them, then walks out into the bright sunshine of a new day.

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