Liam Oh and the Shape of Tenderness
Inside the quiet contradictions of Netflix’s Boots—and the actor learning how softness survives the storm.
Photography & Styling by Chris Noltekuhlmann Words by Dio Anthony,
T here’s a softness that follows Liam Oh, even as he talks about bootcamp. It’s in the way he remembers his best friend from home — the dynamic between protector and protected flipped on its head — and in how he finds love in scenes that could’ve played like punishment. On Boots, Netflix’s hit new series set inside a Marine training camp, Liam plays Ray, a young man shaped by pressure and perfectionism, but propelled by care. The performance feels lived-in, less about discipline than about devotion — to family, to friendship, to trying to do right by the world. When we spoke, I kept returning to this word: tenderness. How it hides in the rough parts, how it survives the noise, how it can look a little strange in a uniform.
Below, Liam talks about learning to let go of expectations, finding softness in unlikely places, and the films and friendships that taught him what love looks like in motion.
American Studies: What was the very first image that came to mind when you were reading the script? Do you remember?
Liam Oh: Well, I think there were a lot of things. I mean, that was the thing about the script that really drew me in — whenever you thought it was going one direction, it took a left turn and went in a completely different one.
And, you know, I think that, like many people, I had a preconceived idea of what bootcamp was from its depictions in the media. I’d seen Full Metal Jacket, I’d seen Jarhead and Platoon. Those were all great — really remarkable pieces of film — but that’s not what the show is.
It only took a couple of pages to start getting the tone, which was this kind of tongue-in-cheek campiness that was supported by a lot heart as well.
Honestly, the thing that flashed in my brain was one of my best friendships. The relationship between Cam and Ray really reminded me of my best friend from home. He’s a gay man and I’m straight, and their dynamic felt really familiar to me — in reverse, in a funny way.
In Boots, Ray is Cam’s protector — he’s the one who’s always looking out for him. In my relationship, it was kind of flipped. My friend was always the more confident and outgoing one, and in a lot of ways, he looked out for me instead of vice versa. So that felt really familiar to me.
That’s profound and funny at the same time.
Yeah. Which I think ultimately goes to the point that the show is a viewpoint. And that was so exciting — at its core, it’s looking at the world through a lens that a lot of people share.
It’s about seeing these very normal things that most people take for granted, and then looking at them through that lens and realizing, that’s kind of funny, actually, in a way people don’t usually talk about.
Was there a specific scene that really unlocked the character for you—a moment where you really understood how to play him?
I think that was luckily something that happened pretty early on in the shooting process. It was the flashback sequences, all the stuff with my dad, that were really, really informative.
There’s one specific scene that happens in Harlan’s office that kind of helped unlock both Ray’s perfectionism, his anxiety disorder, and the weight of the expectations placed on him by his father. But at the same time—like many other things in the show—to the creators’ credit, they wanted to resist the obvious.
I think there’s this idea that Harlan, my dad, is this intense, demanding, abusive Marine father. But that’s not actually the case. It’s always more interesting to try to find the love in those types of scenes and relationships, and then find the ways that that love fails often.
“At its core, it’s looking at the world through a lens that a lot of people share — seeing very normal things through that lens and realizing, that’s kind of funny, actually.””
Ultimately, Harlan — my dad in the show — is doing everything he can to prepare Ray for the world in the way he thinks Ray needs to be prepared.
The director of the pilot, Peter Hoar, was really more interested in the tenderness of the scene, in playing against the obvious intention — which would be this kid getting a dressing down from his father.
And I think both of those things in combination — the demands and the tenderness — feed into who Ray is. He’s a perfectionist with the highest bar for himself, but all of that is internalized and directed inward. What he sends outward is a lot of love and compassion. Those scenes really helped unlock that for me.
I love hearing these little behind-the-scenes details. Was there ever a moment or a piece of direction that really stuck with you — like between takes, when a director would say, “Hey, Liam, think about it this way,” or “Here’s what he’s really feeling”? Any specific moment like that from the episodes that stands out? Just in terms of working closely with the directors and those small actor-to-director exchanges that we don’t see, but that can really shape a performance.
Oh, God, that’s a great question. Yeah, [laughs]—this is a funny one.
Regarding the panic attacks and Ray’s anxiety disorder, those sequences were all shot by a director named Silas Howard, who is best known for his work on Transparent back in the day.
We were talking about panic attacks on film and how, a lot of the time, they can feel gratuitous and exploitative, and not very reflective of how people actually experience anxiety in their bodies. It’s always like—shaky cameras and that kind of stuff. Well, we started talking about Puss in Boots: The Last Wish. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen that movie, but there’s a panic attack sequence in it. It had just come out recently and it came up during work one day when we were getting into those types of sequences on the show.
We were both like, that feels real and lived-in and kind of true and sensitive. In a funny way, we were in bootcamp and talking about Puss in Boots: The Last Wish. What that helped us realize is that the sequence grounds that experience in the body really well.
As an actor, you never want to play the panic attack itself; you want to play the coping mechanisms, the ways the character is trying to push it down and get through it. So it was about breath and the coping mechanisms Ray has developed over the years to deal with this.
Again, it’s like you want to talk about reference points — examples of things you’ve seen that didn’t work, and examples that did. Sometimes those examples are as silly as Puss in Boots, but it actually really helped us.
““It’s always more interesting to try to find the love in those types of scenes and relationships, and then find the ways that that love fails.””
I'm wondering if there is a piece of information that you walked away from knowing. Something that you probably weren't privy to before doing this project? Something you've learned about that world or even about yourself.
What I walked away with was this: the idea that I’m a TV and film actor. I come from a theater background. I didn’t really plan this—I kind of blinked and woke up in this job. I had thought I was going to be doing one thing for my entire career. I come mostly from a musical theater background, and that’s pretty much all I had done up until this job.
I was about a week away from moving to New York to do a project here. During the whole audition process, I never really expected to get it because of that. I didn’t envision myself as a Marine or honestly being able to play these types of parts — more like leading-man, exceptional kinds of roles.
A big part of that is that a lot of times, Asian actors don’t get access to those roles. Also, what I had been playing in my career up until that point were kind of quirky, comic relief, anxious, zany characters. Because of that, during the audition process, since I didn’t expect to get it, I was able to let go of what I thought the character was and just play it the way I would — a little softer, a little weirder, a little zanier than how he reads on the page, which is very straight and narrow, cut-and-dry.
Very Reserved.
Yeah. But that’s just not really who I am a lot of the time. I think that was a benefit for me. It’s one of those things actors say all the time: you have to stop trying to play what you think other people want and just do the part the way you would. A lot of the time, that’s not what casting or directors want, and that’s fine, but sometimes it is.
It was a big lesson for me in terms of having a sustainable career: I have to let go of what I think other people want. It’s the simplest thing, and it’s still something I’m working on and trying to unlearn. But this was a really good exercise in that.
As a musical theater kid, I'm curious, what are the last great musicals or plays you've watched?
I think Dead Outlaw…It’s a musical by David Yasbeck, directed by David Kromer, who actually gave me my first job ever. It’s a super weird musical about something you wouldn’t think a musical would be about — the worst outlaw who ever lived. He dies, gets mummified, and people forget that he’s an actual mummy. His body gets used as a sideshow attraction for the next 70 years. A musical about that. It’s awesome — super zany, super weird.
Then Stereophonic, which was like a three-plus-hour epic about a band not unlike Fleetwood Mac. It was on Broadway a year or two ago, but I saw it off-Broadway at Horizons, and it completely blew my mind. And then, I guess I’ll just shout out my favorite musical, Once. Those three just popped into my head immediately.
You’re right–you are a music theater kid, because I’ve never heard of these.
You can out me as a theater kid. I'll accept that. I'll accept that mantle proudly.
I saw John Proctor as a Villain a few months ago, and had a conversation with one of the actresses in it. She talked about how much she loved how the story humanized teenagers. I’m curious — what do you feel your show says about young people?
I think kids and teenagers are so much more capable and brilliant than most of us give them credit for. The thing they’re lacking is lived experience — and I say that as myself too. I’m 25, and I’m still lacking a lot of lived experience.
What Boots does really well, and what something like John Proctor does well, is it doesn’t trivialize their experiences. When you’re 17 and going through something for the first time, that is the most important thing that has happened to you up until that point. Ten years later, those events might feel smaller because you’ve lived more, but at 17, it’s the most important thing in your life.
I think we forget that as we get older. We look back, and what we went through at 17 feels small — and it should feel small, because hopefully by 30, 40, or 50, you’re not stuck in the same mental state you were at 17.
Good art about that time doesn’t trivialize the experience. It looks at it honestly. Sometimes it’s silly, sometimes it seems inconsequential, but to the characters and to the project, it’s taken very seriously. I think that’s what Boots does really well.
“When you’re 17 and going through something for the first time, that is the most important thing that has happened to you up until that point… good art doesn’t trivialize that.”
One thing I also noticed about the show that I loved is that it plays with this theme of contradiction. For example, a Latino character who doesn’t speak Spanish, or two twins who grew up in the same home but have completely different lived experiences. That’s really interesting to me.
Are there any contradictions in your own life that you could share — nothing too personal, of course?
Wow. I guess something I’m figuring out right now, going through a show like this, is the contradiction of being an actor — putting yourself on display to be consumed — and my deep need for privacy. I think I’m ultimately a quite private person. I really don’t like to put my personal life on blast. I have a small circle of friends, and my family is really important to me. And I’m kind of like, everyone stay away.
I think people who don’t do this for a living can be confused about that. They’re like, “What do you mean? You’re an actor — of course you want to be a public figure, famous, all these things.” But what I love is the craft of this — being able to step outside of yourself and be a different person for a little while.
I think I’m going to have to learn, hopefully as I continue to do this for a career, how to keep those things separate and protect myself a little bit. It’s been interesting going through this experience for the first time. The reception and responses have already been amazing — beyond what I expected.
I’m someone who serially keeps my expectations low so they can be exceeded later. I was telling myself before this that it would drop and disappear, and thankfully it hasn’t. Even though it’s only been a couple of days, the response has been a little overwhelming — in a lovely way — mostly from people who really love the show. It’s something I’m learning in real time.
Do you remember your very first memory of a film or series? Ever?
Yes. Some of those deeply primordial ones that are just locked into the back of your brain — one of them is Labyrinth. The Jim Henson and David Bowie movie from the eighties. Are you familiar with the puppets?
I’m afraid I’m not. I’m learning a lot in this conversation.
Well, what a crazy movie. Absolutely wild. Movies were different in the eighties. It’s like a demented Muppet fairytale about a demon king who kidnaps a baby, with David Bowie and all these Muppet creatures that Jim Henson made. It absolutely terrified me. I think I saw it way too young, and it just lives in my brain. Go Google Magic Dance after this — I think you’ll get the vibe pretty quickly.
On the complete opposite side, it was The Princess Bride. I’ve seen that movie maybe a hundred times — it’s my mom’s favorite movie. Really early on, I watched that one. You know, the sword fight scene between… yeah
The first film you mentioned kind of reminds of the AI videos my mom watches on TikTok.
No, no, AI could never be this specific [laughs]. It's too well made, but Yes. A little bit fever dreamy.
What was the first film that actually made you feel something? A film that showed you what films can do.
I mean, this is pretty, pretty basic, but I remember watching Reservoir Dogs for the first time when I—again was probably way too young. Maybe 10 or 11. I remember sitting in my dining room and watching it on a laptop and having my mind blown that you could say things like that. That you could give performances like that. I think I liked the swearing too—It shocked me as a little 10 year old. That was a big one. I think that was the first adult movie that I watched illicitly by myself.
Those moments tend to have a really lasting effect on us — I love that. Okay, this is kind of a deep-cut question, but I love how soft your character can be, especially surrounded by everything else going on in the series. When you think about your own upbringing, or even your life in general, what are some examples of tenderness that stand out to you? Relationships that showed it, or moments you saw it in other people?
That is a great question. My mom and dad — I’m so lucky — they really modeled a healthy, loving relationship from a young age. My family is the most important thing in the world to me: my parents and my brothers.
One thing I really appreciate about how they raised us is that they forced me and my brothers to be friends with each other. I have three brothers, so it’s all boys in the family. In a lot of families, if it’s a very masculine space, there’s a lot of fighting. And sure, there was plenty of that for us too, but they made us take care of each other. We didn’t have a choice — in a good way. They were like, you can roughhouse, but you cannot hurt each other. You can tease each other, but you cannot hurt each other. You are each other’s teammates for your entire life.
When everything else changes, you have each other — and that’s it. I’m so lucky that I have three brothers who are genuinely my best friends. So thanks, Mom and Dad.
“I’m someone who serially keeps my expectations low so they can be exceeded later.”
Are you in the middle, the oldest or the youngest?
I'm in the middle. I'm number three of four. And three out of the four of us are doing this for a living in some way or another–which is fascinating because my parents are lawyers, you know?
What is the most used app on your phone? Be honest.
Spotify. I can’t live without it. I’m constantly listening to something. I love music — I soundtrack my life. I keep seasonal playlists of what I’m listening to or discovering, which is nice because I can go back and check out, for example, what I was listening to in the fall of 2022. I listen to a ton of podcasts too.
What’s your go-to? One you can’t miss an episode of.
Dude, The Big Picture podcast.
Shut up, I love that podcast!
I love Amanda [Dobbins] and Sean [Fennessey] , and Chris Ryan. Those are my guys. I’m a huge movie nerd, so I watch pretty much every movie that comes out. It’s funny — I don’t really watch TV and now I’m on a TV show. But I watch movies.
What’s the First thing you do in the morning?
Well, now I have a dog, and the first thing is that she licks my face and wakes me up to take her out, and then I have a coffee. I mean, it’s pretty simple. I just mainline caffeine straight into myself.
How do you take your coffee?
Mostly just black. Cold brew. Or cappuccino. I used to be more annoying about it — I honestly used to be the person who would do a pour-over or something like that. But I’ve gotten really lazy, and now I just chug cold brew.
Are you making your coffee at home or are you getting it somewhere else?
Again, I used to have all the equipment I needed, but literally in the last year, something changed. I just can’t bring myself to make it — I need it straight away. So now I just have La Calombe. You know, the Cold Brew–the yellow one.
What’s something small that brings you comfort? A meal, a song or a smell? Maybe for you it’s a song.
Oh God. Well, I’ve been listening to a ton of Geese recently — which is not necessarily comforting, but that’s just what I’m obsessed with. Geese is so good.
My girlfriend will say I play the most chaotic music in the mornings — she doesn’t get it. I wake up and start playing A Love Supreme by John Coltrane, and she’s like, what the hell is going on? Like, why are you listening to all this chaotic mess? But slightly chaotic music brings me a lot of comfort.
So I’ll listen to that, or some Coltrane, or Radiohead. I listen to a lot of Radiohead. Again, not the most stereotypically soothing music, but it does bring me comfort. They’re my favorite.
This is closely related to my earlier question; but what's your relationship to your phone? Are you constantly on it trying to escape it?
Trying to escape it, trying so desperately to escape it, doing everything I possibly can to escape it — which I’ve been failing at this past week. Normally, I don’t have Instagram downloaded on my phone, but right now I have to for work. You know, to promote the show — they say it’s important for your career these days.
They do. What’s one lesson you’ve learned recently? I love asking this because it can be something really small — just a piece of knowledge or insight you’ve walked away with. It could even be something simple, like a cool fact you learned the other day that completely surprised you.
God, I’m always learning. I love random facts. I can go down that route forever and never shut up.
But the most important thing I’m grappling with right now is how your metrics and the bar of success are always moving — especially in this profession, and in many professions. You spend your life growing up working toward something, like a show coming out. When you’re 15, you think, when I’m a lead on a Netflix show, I’ll be happy, I’ll have made it.
Then I woke up on Thursday and felt exactly the same. I don’t feel any different. I feel just as anxious as I did the day before, and I will the next day.
It’s about trying to remove your sense of accomplishment and self-worth from your work. People always say it — it’s simple, but it’s true. And I’m learning that.
And then I’ll leave you with a fun fact I learned recently… which one? Oh my God, there’s too many.
I was just watching a Veritasium video — I love those — about the six degrees of separation theory. You know, the idea that you can connect anyone in the world through just six people.
Apparently, it’s been mathematically proven to be true because of the complex networks of interconnection we all have. And even cooler — it’s actually closer to two or three people for most of us. I thought that was pretty wild. The world’s a lot smaller than we think.
