Mason Thames jokes that he drinks too much coffee these days. "I'm a fiend,” the New Hollywood Class of 2025 honoree confesses, a habit he picked up filming New Year's Rev, a road trip movie inspired by Green Day, in which the 18-year-old channels a young Billie Joe Armstrong. The caffeine addiction started as survival on long shooting days, but it stuck, maybe because it reminds him of the rush of being on set: learning guitar in a month, playing until his fingers bled, and falling even deeper in love with the work.
"Yeah, there was a lot of blood. A lot of blood," he says, grinning at the memory. "There was one scene where I was playing in the rain and going really, really hard, and it got to a point where my fingers were just gushing blood all over the guitar. They were like, 'Mason, we're bringing Band-Aids,' and I was like, 'Guys, it kind of looks cool.'" He laughs. "They finally tricked me into a touch-up just so they could wrap my finger."
Now, sitting in a neighborhood café on the West Side of Manhattan (incidentally, about 10 blocks south of where one of his favorite actors, Timothée Chalamet, grew up), Thames seems far removed from that chaos. His hoodie zipped, a baseball cap pulled low, messy curls spilling out underneath. An iced vanilla latte with almond milk rests between his hands. When I mention the coincidence of our location, he smiles. "He's a big inspo," Thames says.
The admiration runs deep. The first performance of Chalamet's that stayed with him was Beautiful Boy, a film that took residence in his mind and replayed itself in quiet moments for days. "God, it made me bawl," he admits. "He was so young and just incredible. After that, I watched Call Me By Your Name. He was, what, 19? That movie's set in stone in cinema history."
What stands out to him isn't Chalamet's fame but his range, the way he can slip from blockbuster to arthouse without losing his integrity, a rare kind of actor who manages to be both star and storyteller. "He's established himself as an actor, not just a celebrity," he says. "That's what inspires me."
And in a way, Thames is already walking a version of that path, shifting between genres with instinctive curiosity: a breakout in the horror hit The Black Phone, a role he recently reprised in its even more twisted sequel. A big-budget fantasy lead as Hiccup in the live-action How to Train Your Dragon franchise. A scrappy musician chasing meaning across backroads in New Year's Rev. A swoony teen heartthrob in the adaptation of Colleen Hoover's Regretting You. And next, a villainous turn as what he calls a "psychopath" in the comedy flick The Shitheads. For Thames, variety isn't a strategy; it's self-discovery.
In only a few years, Thames has moved through characters as if testing every shade of performance and trying on every possible version of himself in the process. "I just want to be the best me I can be,” he tells Teen Vogue, "and keep getting better." It's the kind of line that might sound rehearsed coming from someone else, but from Thames, it lands with earnest simplicity. Maybe that's because, like the actors he admires (Chalamet, Heath Ledger, Leonardo DiCaprio), he isn't chasing fame so much as longevity, the chance to grow up onscreen, one story at a time.
"After The Black Phone, it set a tone for a more serious route," Thames says of his career. "Then I got [How to Train Your] Dragon, and I didn't want to get typecast as Hiccup, which wouldn't be a bad thing because that character means everything to me. But I also wanted to establish myself as an actor beyond that, to take on diverse roles, show range, and check off some bucket-list movies along the way."
Which brings him to his newest chapter: Regretting You. It's his first time playing a romantic lead — a departure from the intensity of The Black Phone and the sheer scale of How to Train Your Dragon, and one that pushes him to slow down and sit with emotion instead of action. In it, he plays Miller Adams, a small-town romantic with a filmmaker's heart and a lollipop always in hand. "I love Miller," Thames says. "I'm a hopeless romantic. I've always loved those movies — The Notebook, 10 Things I Hate About You — so getting to do something like this was really special."
He credits his co-star and fellow Teen Vogue New Hollywood cover star, Mckenna Grace, for helping bring that tenderness to life. The two first met while filming New Year's Rev (well, technically a bit earlier, according to Grace), and went straight into Regretting You soon after. "We hung out almost every day," he says. "I've never clicked with somebody in my life like I have with Mckenna. We could just be ourselves, and that's really rare." Their scenes together feel unforced, the kind of lived-in chemistry that comes from genuine trust.
Their relationship extends far beyond their films. In fact, she's not only his best friend but, as it turns out, his first-ever concert. ("She performed a show last year at the Troubadour," he says. "Every concert since then has been with her. It's kind of a tradition now.") On his wrist sits a jade beaded bracelet with a red cardinal charm. Grace, he says, has a matching one. "She has a white [cardinal]," he explains. "We made them together." His snapped not too long ago, beads scattering across the floor. "I was stressing," he admits with a laugh. "But we got them and put them back together." Grace was also the one who taught Thames how to play guitar for New Year's Rev, sending him a custom video tutorial complete with pop-up diagrams, memes, and motivational captions. "She's amazing," he says fondly.
Between virtual jam sessions and their aquarium playlist — "mostly chill indie, some 1975, a little Malcolm Todd," he says — the two have developed an easy rhythm that crackles onscreen. He laughs when asked about the old Hollywood tradition of co-stars reuniting for film after film. "We joked about that," he says. "Mckenna and I in every rom-com." Still, there's truth in the idea, a belief in collaboration as something to nurture and in the way certain people can sharpen your instincts. "She's one of my favorite people in the world," he adds. "Working with someone who understands you like that makes you better."
That ease translates into Miller, a character Thames describes as "the closest to who I am as a person." Offscreen, Thames carries the same warmth, equal parts leading man and endearing idealist. He can talk about comic books for hours, tracing the lineage of every Robin from Dick Grayson to Jason Todd, or debate the camera angles in Spider-Man 2 with the enthusiasm of someone who still remembers wearing out his grandparents' DVD player. He'll wax poetic over the work of Paul Thomas Anderson (whom he calls "the G.O.A.T."), Quentin Tarantino, Chris Nolan, and Martin Scorsese, if you'll let him. There's a sweetness to the way Thames talks about the things he loves, the same quiet sincerity that makes Miller so believable.
Like his fictional alter-ego, he came of age surrounded by movie posters, dreaming of telling stories that mattered. "Miller's just a dude who loves film," Thames says. "He's not the stereotypical cool guy. He's a film nerd."
That love of film runs deep. Thames grew up in Austin, Texas, where weekend trips to the movies with his dad became a ritual. "He worked a lot when I was little," he recalls, "but he'd get off on Thursdays and Fridays, and those were our days. He'd pick me up from school, pull into the car line blasting music just to try to embarrass me; never could." He grins. "Then we'd go to this Chinese food buffet, and afterwards, we'd hit this really crappy movie theater by our house and just pick something to watch."
Thames still remembers one of those afternoons perfectly. He was six, small enough that his feet didn't touch the sticky floor of the theater, staring up at Guillermo del Toro's Pacific Rim on the big screen. The walls rattled with every blow — metal titans tearing through city skylines, sparks and seawater spraying across the screen — but what stuck with him was more than the kaiju-filled spectacle of it all. "I remember thinking about the camera shots," he says, still marveling. "They were always from the ground or a window. It made everything feel real, like you were there. That, to me, is what movies are about: sitting down in a theater, getting your popcorn, and living in a world for two or three hours."
He pauses, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Sitting in that theater with my dad, watching that movie, it was so cool." The awe in his voice hasn't dulled. "That's the kind of stuff that made me fall in love with movies."
Even as a kid, Thames was acutely observant. While other six-year-olds were glued to cartoons, he was on YouTube devouring behind-the-scenes footage and director commentaries. "I used to watch all the How to Train Your Dragon commentary," he says. "Dean [DeBlois] had this little camcorder and filmed everything, from the first script to the final cut."
Years later, on his first day of filming the live-action Dragon, a role Thames believes he "manifested" because he was such a massive fan of the animated originals, DeBlois walked on set holding that same camcorder. "He was documenting our movie," Thames says, smiling at the memory. "It made me emotional, such a full-circle thing. I really did it."
His dad works in real estate, while his mom has supported his every creative impulse. Before acting, Thames spent four years studying ballet alongside his sister Brooke, now a professional ballerina. "I started because of her," he says. He was six when he first stepped into the studio — the youngest kid in the back row, mimicking the older dancers, learning how to move with intention. "I realized while I was performing up on stage, that's where I kind of found my love. It wasn't for the ballet itself."
He then traded pliés for pads. "Football's a big thing in Texas,” Thames says, grinning. "I had a ton of energy, so my parents threw me into it." He played running back and wide receiver in a youth travel league. "To me, it was the highest level,” he says, joking. "I tell people now I was a D1 athlete…at nine years old." Still, what ballet and football shared was discipline, a sense of structure that carried into everything he's done since.
At 12, Thames took what he calls "the big leap." He'd told his parents he wanted to move to Los Angeles and try acting — really try. "It's a big risk," he says. "If you really want to become an actor, it takes time. You have to go for it; it's kind of an all-or-nothing situation." His parents didn't hesitate. His dad, who stayed behind in Austin for work, and his mom, who moved west with him, agreed to give it a year. "It was tough on my family," he says softly. "We were apart for a long time, and we were struggling for a while. My dad sacrificed a lot, working nonstop, so I could live my dream. I think to this day, I just want to keep going and do better to prove to him that it was worth it."
For a while, it didn't look like it would be. By 2020, after more than a year of near-misses and countless auditions, Thames was ready to quit. "COVID hit, and we drove back to Texas from LA," he remembers. "I told my mom, 'Hey, I don't want to waste your guys' time anymore. I'll call it quits.'" He gave himself one final audition — one last shot before walking away: That audition was for The Black Phone.
His mom, ever resourceful, ordered a red pay phone from eBay and spray-painted it black for him to use as a prop. "I just threw on this white T-shirt with blue sleeves I had in my closet," he says. "And that's the T-shirt they used in the movie. It's just my Nike shirt turned around." He laughs, still in disbelief. "They liked it so much they re-created it. That iconic shirt is literally just mine."
That role — Finney, a kidnapped boy who uses a haunted telephone to escape his captor — changed everything. "It was the moment," Thames says. "Thank God I didn't stop."
On the set of The Black Phone, Thames learned fast. "Getting thrown into that job, especially as my first thing, was like, Okay, don't mess around. You have one shot at this," he recalls. "They auditioned so many people for that job, and they picked me, this kid who's never done anything. I was like, Oh, they messed up. I don't know what I'm doing.” He laughs, remembering that rush of imposter syndrome. "It was like, I really need to take this seriously."
He was 13, playing opposite Ethan Hawke — "newcomer Ethan Hawke," Thames says, joking — whose performance as the Grabber left a lasting impression. Watching Hawke work was like a masterclass in presence. "He was terrifying in the best way possible," Thames says. "But between takes, he'd snap out of it, ask if I was okay, and just be so nice." For a kid still finding his footing, the veteran actor's professionalism was a model. "Just seeing that switch, that's when I realized, Okay, this is how it's done." Every set since then, he's treated as a classroom. "Everybody I work with, every new job, I learn something new."
That sensitivity to nuance is also why Thames eventually sees himself behind the camera. "I've always wanted to direct," he says. "That's always been my dream." So much so that he even shadows directors on his days off during projects.
When he was younger, that instinct for storytelling took a simpler form: an iPad, a few neighborhood friends, and the basic editing software on iMovie. He'd film "stupid little horror movies" or lightsaber battles with his sister, cutting them together with sound effects and music. Even then, Thames says, it was less about showing off and more about creating something, a world. "I just want people to sit in a theater the way I did as a kid," he says. "To really be in it. To feel for the characters. And to leave thinking, That was awesome."
Fame has come quickly, but Thames is in no rush to chase it. His Instagram follower count may have quietly climbed into the millions, but his presence online remains minimal — a handful of posts, mostly movie promos, a few behind-the-scenes moments, and not much else. "It's been a conscious choice," he says. "I try to keep my private life as private as I can, but not a secret."
He understands the double-edged nature of social media. It holds the power to connect fans, promote work — and swallow you whole. "I want my work to speak for itself," he says casually. "If it doesn't, then I'll just try harder." That attitude has kept him grounded in an industry where follower counts can decide casting calls. “I've seen it happen," Thames admits, "but I don't worry about it. Some big players were going for How to Train Your Dragon, and I was basically nobody. The fact that I got that job shows it's not all about numbers. If you believe in yourself and go in with confidence, you'll get what's meant for you."
He laughs, recalling the moment he realized just how many people were following him. "My sister called me and said, 'Dude, you have two million followers.' I was like, 'On what?'" He shakes his head, smiling. "It's wild, but it's also really cool. I love seeing how people respond to the movies, all the edits. Social media can be such a fun, creative place if you don't let it eat you alive."
Maybe that's why, when he's not filming, life back home in Austin moves at a more leisurely pace. He still lives with his parents, spending most days surrounded by open sky, family dinners, and his two dogs — Brish, a pit bull-boxer mix he calls "the love of my life," and Taka, a chatty black-mouth cur who used to belong to his brother. When he's not working, he plays golf, goes fishing, and decompresses after long shoots, "especially after press tours," he adds with a smile. For now, home is quiet. But not forever.
New York, he says, feels like the next chapter. "It feels like a second home just walking around here," Thames admits. "It feels like I'm supposed to be here." After filming How to Train Your Dragon 2 in London next spring, he plans to spend a few months in New York City, maybe Brooklyn, maybe Hell's Kitchen; he hasn't decided yet. "It's just nice,” he says, glancing out the café window, where the Hudson River glimmers in the late afternoon light. "I'll be 19 by then. It just feels right."
He pauses, taking a sip of his iced vanilla latte, as if letting the thought settle. "It feels fresh and new," he adds, "which is something I feel like I need." For someone who's spent his teenage years stepping into other people's worlds, carving out his own feels like the natural next step.
Photo Credits
Photographer Angalis Field
Photo Assistant I/Digi Tech Jacob Holler
Lighting Director Alex Johnstone
Stylist Ali Claire Marino
Stylist Assistant Malu Registre
Stylist Assistant Luna Johnson
Tailor Hailey Desjardins
Prop Stylist Maisie Sattler
Prop Assistant Aisha Gunnell
Groomer Jessica Ortiz
Retoucher Alberto Maro
Producer Caroline Hughes
Production Coordinator TJ O'Donnell
Production Assistant Elise Snider
Art and Design Director Emily Zirimis
Global Fashion Director Tchesmeni Leonard
Senior Designer Liz Coulbourn
Associate Fashion Editor Samantha Gasmer
Associate Visuals Editor Bea Oyster
Assistant Fashion Editor Crystal Okonkwo
Editorial Credits
Editor in Chief Versha Sharma
Features Director Brittney McNamara
Associate Entertainment Director Eugene Shevertalov
Associate Culture Director P. Claire Dodson
Culture Editor Kaitlyn McNab
Style Director Alyssa Hardy
Talent Manager Paige Garbarini
Senior Social Media Manager Jillian Selzer
Editor at Large Sara Delgado
Beauty Editor Donya Momenian
Editorial Assistant Skyli Alvarez
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