Kevin Dias

We meet him at a pivotal moment. From a childhood debut in Amélie to his charming breakout as Benoît in Emily in Paris, Kevin has long been familiar with the frame. But today, there is a new energy about him, an artist no longer content to play a part, but determined to show up as himself, flaws and all. "I'm just a guy who loves life," he tells me early on, "born in Paris, Portuguese parents, actor since forever... and someone who loves to be surprised by what comes next." There is a humility that runs through Kevin’s words, but also quiet determination. Acting came to him almost by accident: a cousin in commercials, an early love for Disney films, a bedroom wardrobe of costumes and characters. "It was never about validation," he says. "It was just fun. I loved becoming someone else."

His career began fast, but as Kevin matured, the work did not always come easily. He speaks candidly about the moments in between, the pauses where self-doubt crept in, the dry spells that threatened to derail him. "I didn’t have a showreel anymore, no agent, nothing," he says. "But I realised this is what I do. I can't cook. I'm useless with a hammer. I had to act. It was a kind of emotional emergency." That urgency translated into a hunger to connect, not just with characters, but with people. It’s something he’s carried with him into every role, especially his most recent: Robbie in Nouveau Jour. "He’s a jet-setter hiding this huge secret, this guilt," Kevin explains. "There are so many layers to him. He’s living his best life on the surface, but inside, he’s breaking. That duality was something I really related to."

Preparation, for Kevin, is emotional as much as it is technical. "I watch films, I study physicality, I change how I move. But really, I bring parts of myself to every role. It’s about finding that sliver of shared humanity." He experienced a different kind of transformation in Emily in Paris, his English-language debut. Playing Benoît, a Parisian musician with charm to spare, Kevin found both recognition and revelation. "It gave me confidence," he admits. "I kept asking myself, 'Can I really do this?' But the response was amazing. It reminded me that I'm capable. That I belong."

It also gave him something unexpected: a musical outlet. Though originally cast for his acting, Kevin was later asked if he could sing. "I sent in a few videos of me playing guitar at home, and they were like, 'Let’s do it.' That was the beginning of something." That something is Biggest Mistake, Kevin’s debut single, a confessional, aching piece of pop/folk that emerged from the wreckage of a breakup. "I felt terrible," he says. "I ended things and then regretted it deeply. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so I wrote it down. That song is my way of saying what I couldn’t say at the time."

He describes the track as "a voice note you shouldn’t have opened." Vulnerable, raw, and real. "With acting, I can hide behind a character. With music, there’s nowhere to hide. It’s me. My voice. My story." The upcoming EP builds on that same emotional honesty, threading together themes of heartbreak, ego, growth, and memory. "It’s about relationships, yes," he says, "but also about patterns we fall into, about trying to be a better person. About breaking the loop."

Though he now juggles acting and music, Kevin resists the idea of choosing one over the other. "They’re both ways of telling stories. Both ways of connecting. The music just lets me speak more directly." So what does success look like to him now? "Creative freedom," he says without pause. "Being part of something that makes me feel. That challenges me. I don’t want fame for fame’s sake. I want projects that vibrate." He speaks with reverence about directors who shaped his love for film: Scorsese, Tarantino, and Luca Guadagnino. "You see their work and think, that’s why I wanted to act in the first place."

When life feels chaotic, Kevin grounds himself in simplicity. "My son, Milo, he’s everything. When I hold him, nothing else matters. That’s my real success." He also retreats to the Portuguese countryside, to his grandparents' home. "That’s where I feel most at peace. It’s where I go to reset." He may not have a grand five-year plan, but Kevin is clear on one thing: "I just want to keep doing things that feel true. Maybe I’ll direct. Maybe I’ll tour. But mostly, I just want to enjoy the process."

Impossibly magnetic in spirit, Kevin Dias is carving out a space where art is intimate, masculinity is vulnerable, and success is measured not in accolades, but in honesty. And in the quiet between shutter clicks, coffee sips, and guitar strings, Kevin Dias is already telling us everything.