It never felt like Jacob Elordi‘s journey to fame in Hollywood happened overnight. It feels more like a coming-of-age movie in real time, with the main character going through hard times, questioning himself, and slowly realising that he is ultimately where he always wanted to be. He has talked about how he slept in his car when he first got to Los Angeles because he wasn’t sure if he would ever get a role that mattered. Today, at the Venice Film Festival, he gets a standing ovation for his role in Frankenstein. This is the kind of thing that performers silently picture when they are unknown, tired, and far from home. He adds that the applause that night was the first time he really felt like he belonged in Hollywood.
Euphoria, one of the most talked-about episodes on TV in recent years, was the first time the world saw Jacob Elordi. It was loud, dangerous, and contentious, and so did his performance. He became a well-known face almost immediately, and the recognition that came with it didn’t always sit well with him. He has said in interviews that praise and criticism often come together and that it was tougher for him to keep grounded than most people think. It’s not the glitz of big-budget films that makes his story interesting; it’s the way he talks honestly about stardom, uncertainty, and the desire to just do a good job.
Elordi didn’t try to look perfect when he got down for the popular Hollywood Reporter podcast Awards Chatter. Instead, he talked about his career in a soothing way that showed how much he loves sharing stories. He said that Frankenstein was the first time he really felt free as an artist. He said that the movie was a place where he could let go of what other people expected of him and really think about what acting meant to him. Something changed inside him when the movie first came out in Venice. He said, “Something happened when I was in Venice.” My sister, mom, dad, and I were there. During the ovation, I noticed them standing behind me. I also saw my agent, whom I’ve known for ten years. I looked around and realised that I was precisely where I was supposed to be my whole life.
That memory is raw, and it tells us something important: even if someone is really successful, there is still a quiet moment when they wonder if they deserve it. Elordi’s observation is not a speech of victory. It sounds more like a time to relax and accept. That night in Venice wasn’t just a celebration of a performance; it was also an unspoken confirmation of the years of dread, hard work, rejection, and optimism that got him there. When he said afterward that he had “a kind of great calm that I’m in the right place,” it didn’t sound like he was being arrogant. It sounded like someone who has finally gotten used to breathing regularly after years of jogging uphill.
Elordi’s message about belonging is quite relatable. A lot of young people in any job feel like they don’t belong. They keep going, hoping that one day something will click and someone will see how valuable they are. His experience teaches us that being seen isn’t simply about getting applause or being in the news. It’s about being in a place that matters and remembering everyone who helped you get there, including the part of you that almost gave up.
Fans typically witness the glossy side of his life, including the magazine covers, the anticipation over Euphoria season three, the filming schedules, and the red carpet appearances. But Elordi makes it plain that the work itself is what means most to him. He says that acting is not a way to become famous, but a skill that needs time and emotional honesty. He thinks that Hollywood is a place where you can either lose yourself or find out who you really are. It’s not simply about career strategy to take on new projects like Celebrity and keep working on Euphoria. It’s about finding out how many different roles he can play without repeating himself or being too safe.
In his interviews, he talks about the people in his life a lot. He talks about his family a lot and says that having them around is what keeps him emotionally stable. Elordi embraces his weakness, whereas some performers try to disguise it. He doesn’t act like success took away all his doubts. Instead, he talks about how vital it is to stay in touch with the person he was before he became famous: the teenager who wanted to be an actor, the young man who lived in a car, and the artist who sometimes questions if he is doing things right. These thoughts make every choice he makes and every role he takes on more important.
His career so far shows that success is not always a straight line. People generally pay attention to the big events, such awards, premieres, and magazine profiles. But the real story is made up of smaller, quieter choices. Picking hard bits. Learning from hard scenes. Refusing to work on tasks that don’t feel real. Having faith in a narrative before anyone else does. Elordi is now more sure of himself when he talks about scripts that interest him, filmmakers he looks up to, and the kinds of chances he wants to take with stories. That clarity could be the best evidence of how mature he is as an artist.
He also has a complicated attitude of fame that isn’t always obvious. He has become a popular figure among young people because of his parts in Euphoria and other big films, but he doesn’t act like a current icon. He constantly telling himself and his fans that performing is not the same as becoming famous. A standing ovation can be exciting, but a compelling sequence between two characters on set can be just as important. That point of view helps his voice sound real in a world that often prizes attention over honesty.
Jacob Elordi’s future is unknown, and that uncertainty is what makes his path so beautiful. Hollywood has praised him, but it has also put him to the test. Some people will love his performances in the future. Some people could be very critical. You might get awards or you might not. But his calm declaration that he was “exactly where I was supposed to be” suggests that he has already found something more permanent than applause: a feeling of purpose.
