Taylour Paige on Zola, Grace and Being Kinder to Herself

By her own estimate, Taylour Paige has around 48 votes in her, ready to face any situation.

I have an aunt’s voice, my white school educated voice, my high school voice, she starts on a video call from Bulgaria, where she shoots The Toxic Avenger. Before she continues, one of those voices stops to clarify her statement. When I say educated in white, I’m not saying that being white is educated. I say I went to a very white college. I was surrounded by a lot of white people, so it was a voice. Then there was the voice watching his white friends doing crazy things where I was like, Oh, no. You white people are crazy.

Code shifting or assimilation and survival, as the actress described it, has been helpful throughout her portrayal of the lead character in Zola, the new comedy-drama from director Janicza Bravo. In the movie, inspired by the real Zolas viral tweet thread, Paige plays a fast-vibrating stripper with Stefani, a white stripper (Riley Keough) with cornrows and a blaccent.

I think Zola was like, OK cool I have a new friend, Paige said. She is funny. We both jostle each other.

But when Stefani takes Zola to Florida to earn extra money dancing, things get dangerously out of their control: there’s a prostitution scheme, an unhinged pimp (Colman Domingo), and other shady business. Zola navigates these increasingly chaotic circumstances while sharing her inner dialogue about how disturbing it all is.

I think that ultimately the tragedy of this movie is a betrayal, the actress said, referring to the way Zolas’ so-called friend set her up.

Paige, 30, is now known for her acting (her film credits include My Raineys Black Bottom) but growing up in Inglewood, Calif., She was a dancer under Debbie Allen, and went on to work as Los Angeles Laker Girl. She looks back on those years as a self-aware young woman struggling with generational self-loathing with more compassion now. Because I gave myself the grace, I have a different availability to the roles that I always wanted. Before auditioning for my personality and audition for a role. So everyone was lying.

Paige spoke about Zola and how it helped her tap into her true identity. These are edited excerpts from our conversation.

Since last year you have appeared in several Ma Raineys Black Bottom movies, Boogie and now Zola. How does it feel to be a real movie star?

I’m still that human being who tries to figure it out day in and day out. I try to live my truth in my storytelling and in my life, my spirituality. There is no stopping and going for what I’m feeling, I’m trying to learn as a human.

When I hear a breakthrough it’s like, okay, but what’s expected of me? What do we expect from black women? I just want to be a bridge for what happens when you stay focused, patient, and kind and speak the truth.

Where does your spirituality come from?

I have always been a researcher and a philosopher and a deep thinker. Like, what am I doing here? Since the age of 5, I have been thinking a lot about death and my existence. My mom had me when I was almost 40, so it’s a whole different generation and very fear-based thinking. My own insecurities were projected onto me by my mother’s own disgust. I just wish I had been nicer to myself sooner and could tell which voice was mine. Seeing the way my mother asserted herself and lived [affected] me in the right way and in the wrong way. Because I thought, time is running out, and I have to figure this out. I changed this fear to Time is Eternal, but what are you going to do with it?

Has playing Zola helped you understand how you previously moved around the world in your own body as a dancer?

I’ve been dancing since I was little. I liked it. But I got to a pressure age and I was tired. I wanted to stop. But I had a scholarship. My mother wouldn’t leave me. Your butt is growing all of a sudden and you’re going through puberty, and you must be super skinny like everyone else.

Dancing, as much as it was my escape from my home, would start to be something I didn’t like. It started to sound like something I did for my mom or because some people thought I was okay. I was still involved with Debbie Allen, but I stopped for a bit. With Zola, it’s like coming home to the innate ability to shake that ass. It’s not that technical, so too thoughtful. It is as if a black girl comes down to her room, but in a club. How to get back to it without it being perfect? I wanted to undo it all for her and for me.

Did you have any reservations about how your body would be viewed on screen?

I was of course very nervous and scared. Zola is such a strength and so comfortable and confident in her body, and I was embarrassed but I was willing to be like, Enough with the self-loathing. I’ll never be that age again. My body is working, my heart is beating without help, I have 10 fingers, 10 toes. I’m right on it. So I use this.

This is how Zola crossed the world. We talked about how she got scared. But she does it anyway because she’s a black woman and the bills need to be paid. No one will do it for you. Plus, Janicza was super protective against jumping. Like, weren’t going to see your breasts. I was like, Hey, if that’s the right narration. We show murders and violence on television. I don’t know what the big hurray is around breasts and our natural bodies.

This is part of the voyeurism of films. Zola engages viewers with pithy commentary as her shocking experience unfolds. What was it like telling that kind of story inside?

I knew that this film existed as hyperbolic, that it was the interpretation of Janicza. I am not speaking of interpretation in a condescending manner. But when we process and observe something that has happened to us, there are several truths. His Zolas interpretation of what happened to him, the Janiczas interpretation of Zolas’ brilliant handwriting. You live it is different from when you had the time to process it and put it on Twitter. So, his multiple things are happening at once when you look at him.

Janicza was super clear that I am the straight man. She treated it like a play or a comedy: there’s a straight man, and there’s a buffoon. Riley is like the minstrel in blackface. I’m watching it, so we don’t need two buffoons to be able to absorb and react to that kind of atmosphere. You look at it through my eyes. So a lot of my acting in the movie, my dialogue, is in my head.

I imagine that puts some pressure on you to convey the multiple layers of the story in a way that is both ironic and critical.

It was like, am I doing enough? But I understand that I am serving Zola. I serve black women. White women, black women, it’s satirical, psychological. It’s the systems in place. His racism. It’s on a white body. But on a black body, you don’t really believe it. Even when she is soft and tender, you are going to wonder if she is telling the truth. Were in the service of the greater truth, the way we as black women travel the world and [stuff] it’s put on us. That’s why I thought it was so bright, because it protected Zolas’ voice. Zola isn’t some ghetto buff who just took to Twitter. She was very strategic and knew exactly what she was doing and saying.

Zola is also funny at times. Black women often use humor to protect themselves, to deal with things. Based on your own experiences, was it easy for you to embrace the comedic moments?

I find humor in the most mundane things. Most things, even when they’re bad, are pretty funny. Like, Wow, life is outrageous. This is the ghetto. I have Laugh tattooed on my arm because, man, I laugh a lot. When you laugh, you say to yourself, I’m still alive, I’m still here.