I met Mitchell Robertson virtually over Zoom in Los Angeles, calling from the Maybourne Beverly Hills, where he sat on the floor between obligations. He is already a moving part in the machinery of the press, an experience that can make any actor feel both excited and exhausted in the same breath. Robertson plays the younger Niall Kennedy in Richard Gadd’s decades-spanning study of masculinity, brotherhood, and shame, Half Man, which follows the evolving relationship between 'brothers' Niall and Ruben. Robertson's portrayal of young Niall lies at the emotional core of the plot; he is not merely the face of a massive television phenomenon or the source of myriad TikTok edits. He is a student of pressure, a proud Scot, a believer in manifestation, and, most fascinatingly, a creative who understands the proximity between confidence and delusion.

To the public, 27-year-old actor Mitchell Robertson is tethered to his portrayal of Niall, but to reduce him to an overnight success would undermine a decade of discreet and steady ascent. With a career on a clear upward trajectory—including Mayflies, A Very British Scandal, Curfew, and now Half Man—Robertson lives by the perspective of continual progression. Telling me, “I really, really needed the progression of getting one line, then maybe getting five, and then maybe getting a couple of episodes to kind of build up.” It is one of the most revealing and refreshing insights he shares during our afternoon tête-à-tête. In a culture addicted to instantaneous results and meteoric success, Robertson’s discernment sets him apart as someone who has chosen the patient, nonglamorous path of earning scale.

Reminiscing on his journey into acting, Robertson is wonderfully unfussy. He discusses watching fellow Scottish actor David Tennant in Doctor Who, an experience that gave him the epiphany that acting was a career path he could pursue. Beginning his entrance into the creative world, making YouTube sketches with his friend Reece, he continues, “I think that kind of sparked a love for making things in that way, with the camera, editing things.”

In his final year of school, Robertson joined drama, where his teacher encouraged him into the acting sphere: “Since then, I've kind of just kept going and haven't really stopped.” Rather than offering a polished myth about his beginnings, Robertson gives a modest answer—one that emphasizes the small, accumulated moments that altered the trajectory of his life.

What makes Robertson so riveting is his hunger for a challenge: he exclaims, “I want to do the difficult stuff,” and is drawn to projects that are “raw” and “looking for truth.” This appetite is evident in his portrayal of a teenage Scottish boy grappling with his identity, hiding shame, and the lengths he is willing to go to conceal it. The role of Niall Kennedy appealed to him for his “softer,” “gentle” qualities—traits Robertson notes are rare in a character from the West of Scotland. 

Discussing his portrayal of Niall, Robertson understands that a compelling performance is not merely built on dialogue but physicality as well: “I really wanted a lot of the performance to be in the eyes. I really wanted there to be a sense of holding in his body, a sense of stiffness, a sense of weight on his shoulders, a smallness.” Therein lies the gift of Mitchell Robertson: an acute awareness of restraint, a refusal to let vulnerability become a caricature. His authenticity is not manufactured. 

Robertson's preparation for the role lies in that same register: going to the gym to summon a sense of urgency, practicing breathwork, reading, and doing hypnotherapy to navigate vulnerability and build confidence. “Just thinking,” he says, “It feels like thinking in this time is a bit of a luxury.” An answer about acting, yes, but it also reflects the philosophy that governs him, for thinking is part of becoming. 

Bringing his internal thoughts into existence, Robertson manifests his goals by writing them on bits of paper until they become reality. Not embarrassed by the admission, he says, “I'm a bit of a believer in being delusional,” then brazenly admits, “you're delusional until you're right.” An ideology that he asserts every creative should embrace. There is something extraordinarily magnetic about someone who possesses a baroque faith in their dreams before the world permits them to.  

When I ask Robertson how he imagines his future, he tells me it includes projects he can be heavily involved in, roles that allow him to surrender to the pursuit of the truth in ways that are “messy,” “weird,” and “quirky.” Describing not only future roles but the life of a devout thespian, he speaks with a humble bravado, insisting on his own convictions before the world's approval. 

Although he asserts that he is still finding his feet, Mitchell Robertson has the unmistakable allure of someone who knows exactly where he is headed: a rare breed capable of turning delusion into destiny.

Photographed by Emilio Madrid

Styled by Abigail White‍

Written by Ameen Kher

Groomer: Nicole Tulloch

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