Sherry Cola: The Actress and Comedian on Working Towards a Dream That Feels Out of Reach
I hear Sherry Cola’s voice, pleasantly strong and reminiscent of Miley Cyrus’ tone, before she appears on screen. Her hair is pulled up into a messy ponytail, and her nails are painted with black polish matching her shirt. She’s settled in her kitchen. There’s a bag of hot Cheetos on the counter, wedged in between the sink and fridge. Cola’s comedic timing and charisma are evident within the first few seconds of our conversation.
“Hello, babe!” Cola’s smile is bright.
“Hi, how are you?” My voice is high-pitched, almost squeaky. I’ve watched Cola in Good Trouble since the start. I love her other work, too.
“I’m GREAT!”
“Can I go ahead and record this interview for transcription purposes?”
“Of course. But you aren’t posting it anywhere, are ya?” She runs her hands over her hair, calming the flyaways and pinching her cheeks.
I shake my head, smiling to hide my nerves.
There is a recording in progress, the Zoom voice chimes as I click record.
“Well, I wonder how much that recording in progress girl gets paid,” Cola says.
I let out a sharp laugh, to which Cola smiles knowingly.
We bounce different ideas back and forth about the girl being something like Siri, how many times she may have had to record it, and what tech they may use. By the end of that conversation, my nerves disappeared. Replacing them was a realization of how Cola hosts radio shows, shines in standup, and excels in both drama and comedy: she makes you feel so comfortable. She’s an only child, born in Shanghai and raised in the San Gabriel Valley (“the 626 as we call it,” she interjects) before she took the entertainment industry by storm with Freeform’s Good Trouble, MTV’s Safeword, and TNT’s Claws.
She highlights unique takeaways from growing up in a cultural bubble, “The 626 has a lot of MSG at every corner. So I was lucky enough to eat all these Asian delicacies proudly, as an adult, because I don’t have shame around it. I just feel really lucky that I can eat stinky tofu.”
She pauses for a moment here, in time for my laughter. At the mention of the 626 Night Market, an annual food festival in San Gabriel Valley, any trace of her calm composure shatters. Laughing, she waves her hands around her before pointing passionately at something off-screen. “When they launched the market, it got so popular that now it's at the Santa Anita racetrack. But that was my mall. Like what? How is it such a big deal now? Like, that was where I was peer pressured to shoplift necklaces at Nordstrom.” She keeps pointing, perhaps at an imagined racetrack. Sandwiched between her jokes, however, Cola’s gratitude for her childhood communities and memories is unquestionable. She embraces her past. She loves her journey, including the cringe-worthy moments, the obstacles, and, of course, her beginnings as a performer.
Growing up, Cola was part of her high school film club, creating and acting in shorts and funny videos. She hosted her high school talent show, “which was basically standup.” She even dabbled on Vine.
“Vine was iconic. These were Sundance features. Six seconds of cinematic treats. I had one go viral. That was when I first had the nickname of Sherry Cola. Vine was so username-heavy that if your name was vapetown69 people would yell out vapetown69 when they saw you. Like on the street, people would call out Sherry Cola. I ended up changing my name on Instagram and Twitter to Sherry Cola.”
But she never thought any of her jokes or gigs or Vines could amount to a career in entertainment. “I thought that Hollywood was for Americans. Society and Hollywood brainwashed us into thinking there were only one or two spots. Jackie Chan existed? Lucy Liu existed? Well, there is no room for me.”
She went on to study Entertainment and Tourism Studies at California State University - Fullerton. There she discovered her talent for hosting radio shows while working at Titan Radio, the campus station. She went on to pursue this interest post-graduation while working at AMP Radio 97.1 FM.
Cola slips into a serious tone when I ask why she didn’t consider acting after college. She looks into the distance, perhaps pondering her past self. She tilts her head, squinting one eye, before stating: “I always innately wanted to be an actor, but I just didn't have the resources. The dream felt out of my grasp.”
A combination of two events made her dream a plausible reality. Within the same week, she performed stand-up professionally for the first time and witnessed Lil’ Tasty, her character on Luber (a rideshare-inspired web series that her friends made) go viral.
“Nothing beats that feeling of euphoria when you hop off the stage. Of course, only when you perform well, but that week was kind of this epiphany to just dive into comedy and acting.”
From there, she ran into her college radio friend, Colin, at her second stand-up show. He became her manager, and after taking improv classes, she landed her first major role in 2017 on the Amazon series I Love Dick. Starring alongside Kathryn Hahn and Kevin Bacon, Cola was just grateful to be on such an inclusive and welcoming set, “wide-eyed to the free La Croix, you know?”
As she tells her story, Cola’s humorous tales settle into a reflective narrative. She counts the reasons why this series set the tone for her career: the queer representation on set, the opportunity to premiere at Cannes, and the opening of doors to other shows like TNT’s Claws. Her gratitude is definite.
“The ripple effect is very, very apparent in my career. I was meant to act. I've been acting unconsciously, even as a teenager. Finally, there was an opportunity to apply those skills.”
We then delve into a character who largely impacted Cola: Alice Kwan on Good Trouble. When Cola first read about the role of Alice, phrases like first-generation, queer, self-deprecating humor, and aspiring comedian left her in awe. She couldn’t believe that people wanted to see a character on screen that so closely resembled herself.
The first few rounds of auditions were just alright. Cola was used to comedy, but Good Trouble was more of a drama. But she passed these initial rounds. Then Cola auditioned in front of the show’s creators: Joanna Johnson, Bradley Bredeweg, and Peter Paige. “That one, I knocked out of the park. I mean, listen,” she hunches her shoulders, palms faced down but brows high, posed to give a disclaimer, before continuing, “I'm a comedy girl, like, through and through; that's my background. In this audition, I was crying.”
In the final round, Cola auditioned for a room full of producers and network executives. She laughed, and she cried, and she hoped her audience did the same. After the audition, she went to her local comedy club to perform stand-up. While waiting for her turn, she received a phone call. Cola pauses here, mid-retelling of the story. Brows raised and eyes wide, she holds her hands in the air for a second. After a few slow blinks, she takes a deep breath. “My agents call me. I got the role. I'm crying because the deeper I got into the audition process, the more I realized that I need to play this role. Because I've never seen it myself. It has the potential to make a real impact.”
She stares for a moment, eyes full of intention, before continuing, “And it has. Four seasons later. In the beginning, Alice is very apologetic, and she puts people before herself. Since then, Alice has grown and shed her layers and become more comfortable in her queer skin and finding her voice in the same way that I have. There is a Venn diagram with me and Alice. We used to be twins but now we're sisters. Like I'm more than just the squirty flower and rubber chicken. I'm so grateful that Good Trouble has expanded my capabilities.”
Cola’s role as Alice Kwan has also pushed the narratives in entertainment and storytelling. “On Good Trouble, I feel so seen,” she says of what the show means to her. “Especially with the Stop Asian Hate storyline we had in the past few episodes. The Lunar New Year episode. Now we have some stuff coming up that's even juicier but also a very necessary conversation. All of these things on Good Trouble mean so much to me and my multiple communities. I am now a role model in a lot of ways. I am now giving other people the inspiration and the will to follow a dream because it's now more possible than it was when I was a kid. You feel me? It's just so necessary.”
Moving forward, Cola aims to join projects that are making history with real intention and multi-dimensional characters. She has lent her voice to Gay Pride and Prejudice, a Spotify podcast, and an upcoming Paramount Animation feature The Tiger’s Apprentice. She just wrapped an Adele Lim comedy project, starring alongside a female-dominated cast, a movie that Cola describes as a “crossover between Girls Trip, Hangover, and Bridesmaids, but with Asian leads.”
What stands out in her discussion of the future is Cola's clarity. She knows what she wants. She has the experience and skills to go after it. And, most importantly, she knows that she deserves it. She draws a horizontal line on the screen with her hands as she speaks.
“The Sherry Cola trajectory is so clear in my head, and I am not settling for any less.”
She encourages new creatives to do the same: put their work out and don’t settle. “I've seen a lot of creators who are self-made. They put their art, comedy, and stories on Tiktok, Instagram, and Twitter. Writers get jobs because of their tweets. People get cast in TV shows because of their funny TikTok videos. The internet is really at your fingertips, so utilize it.”
She also admires the upcoming generation of creatives. “Gen Z is so aware of the times and their identities in a way that I wasn't when I was a teenager. It's such a beautiful thing to see. They're just fighters.”
Cola leans back in her seat for the first time in the last twenty minutes. Her eyebrows no longer sit halfway up her forehead. Her hands seem to be resting on the table before her. I wonder if she is relieved or inspired by Gen Z, by what’s to come in the future. As I am about to ask, her eyes meet mine through the screen. They are bright and deep, almost glowing from within. I don’t need to ask to know that look of inspiration.
Our chat ends with the following question: “If you could go back to that night that you booked the role of Alice, what's something you would tell yourself, knowing what you now know?”
I expect a lengthy silence, followed by a long answer, filled with ideas or advice or warnings. But Cola answers without pause.
“I’d say: buckle up. I've done a good job of navigating this journey thus far… I'm not nearly as close to where [I want to be]. But, I'm just grateful.” She continues, “Kobe Bryant is one of my heroes. He always said the journey is the dream. The fact that I get to even talk to you about my career and inspire an audience in any corner—that means the world to me, that is me doing the work. I don't have a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame quite yet. But I'll get there, and I'm patient. It's not overnight.”
As I am about to ask where she finds this patience, Cola answers the question herself.
“I think that comes from me being an immigrant and having an immigrant mother who expected nothing from being in this country except just survival. This completely exceeded her wildest dreams. The fact that I'm on a billboard, the fact that my face was on Time Square last week, I'm just so grateful. Growth and gratitude every single day. Buckle up. I just want to stay true, embrace who I am, and never lose that. And I'm doing good so far.”
Sherry takes a moment to let that sink in. Her eyes are pensive, filled with hope, nostalgia, and maybe a bit of determination. It’s rare to see a queer woman of color, an immigrant, celebrate themselves. But, seeing Sherry do exactly that, as a woman of color myself, feels liberating. The moment ends as soon as it starts. Cola probably has another appointment or audition or set to be on. She waves goodbye, and so do I. She winks, smiling wide, before the screen goes dark.
STORY MALLIKA CHENNUPATY
PHOTOS JONNY MARLOW