Brazilian film star Wagner Moura, standing on the rooftop of the Variety offices in Los Angeles, says, with a trace of wonder, “I can see my house from here.”
But Moura, 49, has a lot more on his mind than the view, or even the historic best actor Oscar nomination he received only 24 hours ago for “The Secret Agent.” He’s thinking about his wife of 25 years and three boys, and the monster growing slowly in the United States. Today, everything Moura will talk about is something Americans still don’t fully understand, yet Moura knows intimately: what authoritarianism actually looks like when it arrives.
Having done theater, TV and film in Brazil, Moura broke out globally in 2015 when he played notorious drug lord Pablo Escobar in Netflix’s hit crime series “Narcos” opposite Pedro Pascal. Soon after, he expanded his Hollywood presence with artful roles like the war correspondent opposite Kirsten Dunst in Alex Garland’s 2024 post-apocalyptic thriller “Civil War” and Manny, one-half of a crime duo who rob drug dealers in Apple TV’s 2025 miniseries “Dope Thief.”
But there’s something different for Moura about Kleber Mendonça Filho’s wrenching political thriller “The Secret Agent”: Moura has lived that experience. Set during Brazil’s military dictatorship in the late 1970s, “The Secret Agent” follows Armando Solimões, a former professor caught in political turmoil who attempts to flee persecution with his young son as authoritarian rule tightens.
Armando is pursued by hitmen hired by Henrique Ghirotti (Luciano Chirolli), an amoral executive with both political and personal vendettas against him. Armando flees to Recife, where he is taken in by Dona Sebastiana, a former anarcho-communist elder (Tânia Maria). Dona Sebastiana shelters other political dissidents, but there’s only so much she can do to protect Brazilian citizens in the sights of a corrupt government.
Inside the Variety offices, Moura is disarmingly attentive. He leans forward when he speaks, and listens with the same intensity he brings to his answers. At one point, we laugh about how Americans mispronounce his name, calling him “Wagner” instead of “Vagner,” like the German composer.
Dan Doperalski for Variety
What registers immediately is his curiosity. He asks a lot of questions — not out of politeness, but out of genuine interest, learning about the people around him with the same care he gives to his characters. He’s warm without being performative, and thoughtful without posturing. He asks about journalism the way someone who once imagined himself as a journalist might — not with nostalgia, but with respect. His Oscar nomination hovers in the background, acknowledged but never the center of conversation. What matters more to Moura is the moment itself.
“This is a film that was born from how Kleber and I felt when Brazil was under this sort of fascist government. How we felt about our roles as artists,” Moura explains. “You guys never had the experience of living under a dictatorship. You don’t know what that is, what that feels like or how bad that is.” He crosses his arms, choosing his next words carefully. “It happens slowly. And if you don’t have a reaction to the little things, that’s when they take over.”
Mendonça Filho, who wrote the main role in “The Secret Agent” for Moura, recognized something essential in his leading man beyond talent. “Wagner is a great actor,” Mendonça Filho says. “He has the element of empathy in him, like Jimmy Stewart, Paul Newman and José Ferrer. But more crucially, I cannot separate the person and the actor in my films. Wagner’s incredible emotional commitment to the story — and to Brazil — was essential.”
Born in Salvador and raised in Rodelas, 340 miles outside the capital, with a father in the military, Moura grew used to the itinerant life. He studied journalism in college, having been inspired by Carl Bernstein and Bob Woodward. He hoped that someday he, too, could investigate corruption at the highest levels
of government.
Instead, he ended up on this rooftop, having just learned that the film he stars in has earned four Oscar nominations: best picture, international feature, casting and of course, best actor for Moura, the first Brazilian and sixth Latino to be nominated in the category’s 98-year history.
Still, real life, Moura insists, is what happens when the cameras stop rolling, and when democracies and humanity are truly tested. Less than 24 hours after this meeting, ICE agents will fatally shoot ICU nurse Alex Pretti on the streets of Minneapolis, an event that will dominate the news cycle and fuel debates online — and in the streets — about executive power.
Everything Wagner Moura talks about is relevant.
Dan Doperalski for Variety
Where are you, emotionally, at this moment, after the Oscar nomination?
It’s complex. Professionally, this is probably the most recognized moment of my career. But life doesn’t stop. [After the nomination] I hugged my wife and kids, and then life continued. That’s grounding. This is a beautiful moment, especially because it’s a Brazilian film receiving this attention. I’m truly happy. But I’ve been around long enough to understand this isn’t real life. Once the excitement settles, I’m a husband and a father again.
When did you film “The Secret Agent” and how long was the shoot?
It took about 10 weeks. It’s a big production. For Brazil, this is big — about $4 million to $5 million, which for us is huge. It’s like our “Avatar.” [Laughs]
When you first read the script, what unsettled you the most about Armando?
What unsettled me was realizing how similar Armando was to me. How I was playing myself. That sounds easy, but it’s not because you’re putting yourself in very vulnerable positions repeatedly. It is me and it is the character, but it’s also something else.
Do you find it difficult to play someone who isn’t a version of yourself?
We have everything within us. When I played Pablo Escobar, I’m nothing like him, but I am. We can all be mean, greedy and do shitty things. Acting is digging within yourself. We’re capable of beautiful things and evil things. Human beings can be horrible, but they can also be extraordinary. Acting lives in that gray area.
Did you approach Armando first as a political figure or simply as a man trying to survive?
Always as a man. Politics should be the background. People connect to characters, not ideas.
You told me that Americans are taking democracy for granted. Can you expand upon that?
When I was doing “Civil War,” I was constantly thinking about how differently Brazil reacted to our insurrection — in a better way than you guys did, because Brazil was quick to do the right thing and send the message that you can’t mess with democracy. We sent people to jail. Bolsonaro is in jail.
In America, it’s as if they’re testing, like a kid — they’re like, “I’m going to do it,” and if there’s no reaction, then what? I feel like the U.S. and its institutions are not responding with appropriate firmness — putting up boundaries, people facing consequences.
What concerns you the most about this time — not just in the U.S. but globally?
What concerns me most about mankind nowadays is that there are no facts anymore. Facts don’t matter anymore. We used to fight — left and right — we used to have arguments, but we were fighting over the same thing. Nowadays, it’s not about facts. It’s about versions of the truth.
When the president himself creates a universe where Renee Good is to blame — it’s not only morally horrible, but it’s not true. It’s crazy. The information that gets to your feed is completely different to the information that gets to your mother or that MAGA guy. And he’s not necessarily a bad human being, but he is being fed information that makes him think there’s a pizza place where Democrats are [abusing] kids. So how can you talk to someone who doesn’t live in the same reality that you do?
Wagner Moura at the Golden Globes in January, where he won best lead actor for “The Secret Agent”
Christopher Polk/2026GG
Is that what makes art and storytelling more important right now?
Yes. When art and films step up and do a “fiction,” it might be something that’s more important than reality. Because you watch a movie, go back home and it makes you think about it.
I’m increasingly interested in speaking through characters — saying what I need to say through them.
You play Armando as a man who is trying to survive through restraint. Why was that the right choice for this character?
This character couldn’t call attention to himself. He’s in a dictatorship where people would disappear. You can’t call the cops or hire a lawyer. He just wanted to protect his son and survive with his moral values intact. For the character himself, silence was survival.
The film shows very little violence directly. Why was that type of restraint important?
I love that Kleber leaves so many questions unanswered. We don’t know what Dona Sebastiana did in Italy. We don’t know exactly how Armando’s wife died in the film. It makes sense to me that violence is not shown in that way. It’s a film where you never hear the word “dictatorship.” We don’t see any military. And when we see the businessman who is the villain of the film … I had never seen that before, especially in films about dictatorships: The dictatorship was not something the military alone did; it was supported by a huge part of the people, everyday citizens who didn’t want a left-wing president to rule the country.
How has being perceived, or not perceived, as a Latino affected your career?
Brazilians don’t fit Hollywood’s boxes. “Narcos” connected me to a larger Latin identity. I finally felt part of the family. But I feel a responsibility not to reinforce stereotypes.
You’ve been vocal about Latino representation in Hollywood. After “Narcos,” did you feel typecast?
The amount of offers that I got after “Narcos” to play that exact same thing — I was like, no. I had to say no because it’s a perception of our people. Of course, “Narcos” was a great thing. But I don’t want to keep reinforcing that stereotype. I wanted to play journalists, doctors, engineers — whatever we are. We are the biggest part of this society. I want to go for the same characters that white American actors are going for. I don’t need to play a guy called José. Give me Michael, and guess what? The guy is going to speak just the way I speak, with this accent. Because I represent many people who speak just like me.
Brazil has had extraordinary Oscar success the past two years with “I’m Still Here” and “The Secret Agent.” What does this moment mean?
What’s happening to this film, especially after what happened with “I’m Still Here,” is amazing. The attention that these Brazilian films are receiving — especially after the far right in Brazil began demonizing artists — is special. And Brazil has a government now that’s friendly to culture, to films. To see Brazilians gathering around cultural films, saying, “These artists represent us,” it’s beautiful. Before, the far right was very efficient in transforming artists into enemies of the people. They were very effective because our films depend a lot on the government’s funding. The far right was efficient in demonizing that and saying we are stealing money from the government. Sound familiar?
Dan Doperalski for Variety
What do Americans misunderstand most about Brazil?
The joyful image is accurate: the warmth, the culture, the music, the food — the best fucking food. But Brazil was also the last country to abolish slavery. Inequality is massive. Power is concentrated. Brazil is complex. As [“Girl From Ipanema” composer] Tom Jobim said, Brazil is not for beginners. Bolsonaro didn’t come from nowhere — he reflects the country, just as Trump reflects America.
If you could speak to your younger self just starting out, what would you say?
Calm down. Relax. Keep being true to yourself. I’m about to be 50 this year, and soon my sons are going to go to college. I want to get closer to affection, to love — especially while not living in Brazil right now.
What feels most urgent for you to do next as an artist?
I want to keep working with great directors. I would love to work with Paul Thomas Anderson. I would love to be in a film directed by Martin Scorsese. I want to have lunch with Leonardo DiCaprio, who is around my age. These are things that I hope this nomination will facilitate — the access to directors and artists like those. If this nomination brings me anything, it’s that — being considered. That would be enough.
Where do you hope we will be 10 years from now?
The killing of Renee Good in Minneapolis felt like one of those “What the fuck?” moments that should wake people up. But at the same time, I saw reactions saying, “A white person got killed, so now we have to do something,” as if it’s somehow acceptable when immigrants are killed.
I hope we rebuild the bridges between us. Polarization is democracy’s greatest threat. Many people aren’t bad; they’re misinformed. Technology helps science but destroys civic life. Attention spans are gone. Young people are depressed. Truth feels over. I hope we find a way back.
