Vincent Rodriguez III turns ensemble work into leading-man legacy

Before the cameras roll, Vincent Rodriguez III hums a familiar tune—“The Sexy Getting Ready Song” from Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, in which he plays one of primetime’s first Filipino American romantic male leads—while dabbing a bit of powder across his forehead. It’s part joke, part ritual. “Gotta warm up the scene,” he laughs, his voice breaking into a few playful notes as crew members chuckle around him. Moments later, he’s offering to fix my hair for a group shot—and, true to form, he means it.

During our conversation, he laughs about the various jobs and unexpected moments that have filled his career, including long shifts at Starbucks between auditions. It’s that mix of humility and show-must-go-on practicality—born out of years in Broadway ensembles and national tours—that shaped Rodriguez into the leading man audiences now recognize from Netflix’s Insatiable, Prime Video’s With Love, Hallmark’s groundbreaking Christmas on Cherry Lane, and as the voice of General Li Jing in Ne Zha 2. But perhaps the role that Rodriguez is most recognized for is as Josh Chan in Crazy Ex-Girlfriend.

And these days, Rodriguez is back on stage—touring across the country for Crazy Ex-Girlfriend’s 10th Anniversary Concert this month, revisiting the hit songs that first made audiences fall in love with Josh Chan.

From ensemble roots to breakthrough role

On set, Rodriguez isn’t just the guy hitting his mark, nailing harmonies, or throwing down a martial arts move for the camera. He’s also the one making sure everyone else feels seen and supported—from fellow castmates to the crew behind the lens. “As actors, one of the things I learned in New York that I had to really keep with me are resilience and perspective,” he says. “That leads to humility, which leads to compassion—how you perceive others, the people who work under you, whose job is to say ‘yes’ to you, and the people above you paying the bills.”

Before he became Josh Chan in Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, Rodriguez spent more than a decade in the New York theater scene. He worked in the ensemble, as a dance captain, even as a “magic consultant” for productions like The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Those years, he says, were his “ultimate artistry” bootcamp—a crash course in learning accents at a coffee shop, stretching dollars while investing in shoes, and always staying prepared for the next callback.

“People called me a character actor. I never played the handsome lead on Broadway,” he remembers. “But in the back of my head, I was a leading man. I paid attention. And eventually, it paid off.”

Reframing desire and the “model minority male”

For most of Hollywood’s history, Asian men have been permitted to be brilliant but never desired, loyal but rarely loved. A USC Annenberg Inclusion Initiative report found that more than half of Asian and Pacific Islander (API) male characters in the top 100 films of 2019 were written without a single romantic storyline. Pop culture’s bias runs deep. Even after landmark films like The Joy Luck Club and Better Luck Tomorrow, Hollywood continued to relegate Asian men to the sidelines: the coder, the comic relief, the kung fu master. Rarely the heartthrob.

“Growing up, I didn’t see people who looked like me getting kissed on screen,” Rodriguez says. “If you internalize that long enough, it shapes what you think you’re worth.”

As a child, Rodriguez held tightly to the few glimpses of possibility he saw on screen. Movies like Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, 3 Ninjas, and Surf Ninjas sparked his dream of becoming an action hero, though examples of Asian male leads were almost nonexistent. It wasn’t until he saw Paolo Montalban in Cinderella (1997) that he realized someone who looked like him could be the romantic lead—a moment that quietly expanded what he believed was possible.

When he was finally cast in Crazy Ex-Girlfriend in 2015 as Josh Chan—the Filipino American love interest who made Rebecca Bunch abandon her high-powered career for romance—Rodriguez knew something seismic had shifted. “People have written about it, so I guess it’s true,” he says, laughing. “Josh Chan was attractive, goofy, romantic—and people saw why Rebecca would run after him. That was new.”

He still remembers the moment friends began sending him screenshots of casting calls that listed a “Josh Chan type.” “I was like, ‘Mom, look at me—I’m a type now!’” he says. “Affable, sweet, a little goofy but lovable. That didn’t exist before.”

For Rodriguez, visibility isn’t about validation so much as it is about responsibility. Having grown up watching trailblazers like Randall Park, John Cho, and BD Wong carve space for Asian representation, he now sees his own career as a continuation of that work—a chance to widen the door for those coming next.

Carrying the torch forward

Off camera, Rodriguez channels the same empathy and self-awareness that define his on-screen work into mentoring others and building community. He’s candid about the challenges that shaped him—from navigating neurodivergence to unlearning generational expectations—and the intentional healing that came with both. 

He’s since found grounding in therapy and mentorship, describing both as acts of cultural and creative restoration. “Legacy is planting seeds in a garden you don’t get to see,” Rodriguez says, quoting Hamilton. For him, those seeds are empathy, representation, and care—values he hopes will keep growing long after he steps offstage.

That passion for nurturing others recently took him back to the Philippines—not just to visit, but to give back. In May, Rodriguez led a three-day masterclass series in Manila that brought together dancers, singers, and actors eager to learn from one of their own. Best known for his work on stage and screen, he was in town to share his craft with aspiring performers while also reconnecting with his Filipino roots. Over the course of the Feel the Rhythm intensive, he taught everything from musical series (Crazy Ex-Girlfriend’s “Strip Away My Conscience”) to modern-day classics like “My Shot” from Hamilton, alongside classes on acting through song, audition technique, and on-camera performance. Between routines, Rodriguez encouraged students to ground their artistry in authenticity and joy. “Find your rhythm,” he told them, “and your truth will follow.”

For Rodriguez, legacy isn’t just about representation on screen—it’s about building an ecosystem of care behind it. “We talk about representation, but what about restoration?” he asks. “It’s one thing to be seen; it’s another to feel whole while being seen.”

He pauses. “At the end of the day,” he adds, “I just want people to know they can earn their own torch too.”