Jacob Elordi might be one of the hottest young actors working today, but to understand how he got here, and why his name is being whispered in awards season circles, you have to understand how hard he's fought against the version of fame that's been offered to him. Raised in Brisbane, Australia, on June 26, 1997, Elordi was not born into money or status. His humble beginnings kept him grounded—and quite literally far away—from the world of fame that now surrounds him, and it informs the way he thinks about his career to this day. Pursuing acting was originally a means to gain recognition, quite the opposite of fame; it was a way out of obscurity—followed by a very unwanted burst of notoriety.
By Allan R. Ellenberger
This avalanche came with Netflix’s The Kissing Booth movies, shiny worldwide sensations that made Elordi a generational heartthrob virtually overnight. It’s the type of celebrity that marks teen actors before they've had the chance to mark themselves, and Elordi has been refreshingly candid about hating it. He took the gigs, faced the repercussions, and then quietly started seeking exits—in roles that would break the image, not buff it.
The real pivot came with HBO’s Euphoria, where Elordi’s Nate Jacobs was not charming but frightening: a character built on control, repression, and violence. It was a performance that used Elordi’s physical presence against itself, weaponizing his size and stillness to create unease. Audiences who had come looking for romance were instead confronted with menace. Industry observers noticed. The role did not make him likable, but it made him credible.
From there, his trajectory almost seems like damage control. He wanted projects with filmmakers known for their visual and psychological imprint; movies where the image was questioned rather than glorified.
Playing Elvis Presley for Sofia Coppola’s Priscilla wasn’t about impersonating the King but unpacking him; an icon displayed through someone else’s lens. In Emerald Fennell’s Saltburn, he embraced perversity and purposefully misunderstood the role. It was yet another choice where desire isn’t satisfied, but complicated. Elordi stopped trying not to be watched—he wanted to decide how to be seen.
That trajectory finds its sharpest expression yet in Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein, where Elordi takes on the role of the Creature. It is a part burdened by history, symbolism, and expectations—one that has swallowed actors whole or reduced them to spectacle. Del Toro, however, has never been interested in monsters as curiosities. His films are built around outsiders whose physical differences expose moral failure in the world around them. In that context, Elordi’s casting was not a stunt but a calculated risk.
Beneath prosthetics and meticulous detail, Elordi’s Creature is never monstrous. It’s the character’s state of awareness that becomes horrifying — this is not a beast conquering cities with its roar. It’s an organism manipulated into consciousness against its will. Intellectual curiosity with no place to belong. Exceptional about this performance is what isn’t shown. Elordi gives the audience time to process confusion, pain, and desire before anger. Pain that humanizes the Creature far from anything villainous.
That decision has evidently worked out for him. Elordi has earned the Critics’ Choice Award for Best Supporting Actor for his role in Frankenstein, signaling to fans and viewers that the performance made a splash outside of movie nerds. Most importantly, he has earned a nomination for Best Supporting Actor at the Oscars, solidifying what we already knew to be true: This wasn’t just a great performance on a big budget Oscar-bait film, it was an Oscar worthy performance.
Reviewers agreed that Elordi's performance was one of two major heartstrings being tugged throughout the movie. They praised how even when he's covered in prosthetics that obscure his face, you can see vulnerability in his posture, movements, and eyes. In a movie heavy on technique and themes with lofty aspirations, the Creature is its most grounded aspect. That means something to award voters. The Academy has historically rewarded roles that display gross physicality and raw emoting when an actor transforms so wholly into a character, yet they maintain the audience's empathy. With his nomination, Elordi officially sits at that table.
What makes this moment particularly striking is that Elordi’s Oscar recognition did not arrive as a novelty or a sudden rebranding exercise. It follows a clear arc—years of strategic choices that steadily repositioned him from object of attention to subject of inquiry. The Supporting Actor category often rewards precisely this kind of narrative: the popular star who “grew up,” who used visibility as leverage to reach something more rigorous. Elordi’s win and nomination feel less like a coronation than a validation.
Meanwhile, everything about Frankenstein's ecosystem has only bolstered that argument. Del Toro's movie is prestige-leaning and craft-heavy with strong ties to multiple branches of the Academy, from production design to makeup to visual effects. Voters like the film overall, which helps its performances. Elordi, especially, has the type of memorable moment that sticks with voters: The Creature sitting quietly all alone, curious and wanting nothing more than to be loved as something besides a monster.
There are always variables. Supporting Actor races are crowded, and outcomes can hinge on momentum, campaigning, and timing. But Elordi’s advantage has been precisely that alignment. The Critics Choice win established early authority; the Oscar nomination cemented legitimacy. This is not an early-career fluke or a “surprise” slot—it is the result of sustained repositioning, arriving at a moment when both critics and industry were ready to reassess him.
Away from work, Elordi has been judicious about his visibility. Private life invites scrutiny no matter what, but he’s avoided weaponizing it for content. Conversations with him inevitably loop back to craft—reading, older films, studying how actors carried themselves before him. There’s something old-soul about his goals, like he’s playing for keeps.
Even if he doesn’t walk away with a trophy, Frankenstein has already achieved its purpose. The film represents the performance that changes the conversation around everything leading up to it, transforming Elordi from a would-be teen heartthrob desperate to outrun his boy-band image into an actor who leveraged his reputation. Award or not from the Academy won’t change that fact—it only acknowledges it.
Jacob Elordi with his Critics Choice award for Frankenstein
In a career defined so far by resisting easy definitions, Jacob Elordi has found an unlikely center in the figure of the constructed outsider—the being who did not ask to be seen, but once seen, cannot be dismissed. That is not just an awards-friendly role. It is a declaration of arrival.
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