When Jason Patel was young – a self-described “sassy teen” growing up in Manchester – he was told by a family friend to drop his dream of being a performer. Instead, she advised, Brits of Asian heritage should embrace the stereotype. “She was like: ‘You shouldn’t be an actor. You need to be a mathematician or a doctor or a scientist.’” This never looked likely. Before his parents finally bought him a keyboard, Patel drew piano keys on a window sill to practise. He told his mother he needed acting lessons because he was “destined to be a star”. The family friend was duly corrected. “I literally went to her, ‘Watch me!’ and laughed,” says Patel. “Who were they to tell me what to do?” Although, he admits, he did always have an alternate path in mind, should showbiz not work out: “I always said if I wasn’t a performer I would have been an astronaut.” Now 27, Patel is the breakout star of acclaimed new drama Unicorns, a queer love story from longtime collaborators James Krishna Floyd and Sally El Hosaini. He plays Ashiq, a Muslim Indian man who by day works in Superdrug, and by night becomes Aysha, a glamorous and successful singer and dancer. “AA,” as Patel affectionately calls his character, is in hiding: the most significant side of themselves concealed from their conservative family. Also struggling with internal conflict is Luke, a young, seemingly straight single father and mechanic from Essex, played by EastEnders’ Ben Hardy, who shares a kiss with Aysha before he realises he is a drag queen, then later agrees to drive Ashiq to gigs. “They’re supporting each other on this journey to figure out what the fuck is going on and who the fuck they are, you know?” says Patel. Meanwhile, “Aysha and Ashiq are running parallel to each other, and the whole point for me was to bring them together, so you realise that their worlds aren’t colliding – it’s the same world.” El Hosaini and Floyd had struggled to find their lead until Patel sent them a self-tape. Then they screentested him with Hardy: “The instant chemistry with Ben was off the charts,” says El Hosaini. “After the first take, James and I looked at each other and knew we had the film.” Floyd says Patel’s experience as someone of south Asian heritage who has come out to their family meant he had an immediate purchase on the part. Floyd had written the film inspired by the life of Muslim drag artist Asifa Lahore – as well as drawing on his own sexual fluidity and mixed identity. Much of his original script was ditched once Patel came on board. “Ultimately, a script is a blueprint. Once it becomes alive with actors, you’ve got to know when to stick to the script and when not to.” The character was duly moulded to Patel’s personality. Nineteen years after Kinky Boots – and three decades after Priscilla, Queen of the Desert – British cinema is enjoying something of a resurgent crush on drag – especially courtesy of black, Asian and minority ethnic artists. Along with Femme, from last year, and Amrou Al-Kadhi’s delightful Layla, which premiered at Sundance in January, Unicorn is a movie whose hero is a drag artist of colour. “People are recognising the power of drag,” says Patel. “The effect and the impact it has on the world.” RuPaul Drag Race winners Bianca Del Rio and Trixie Mattel are his personal heroes, because “they don’t necessarily fit the stereotypical mould of drag and they don’t care what other people think of them. They blossom because this is genuinely who they are.” I was a queer child from the get-go. At school, I was an easy target for everyone to project their insecurities on to Born into a working-class Indian family in Tameside, Patel’s tastes were informed by Hindu tradition at home, Britney Spears on the telly, and tunes by Michael Jackson and Prince that blasted out at the pub his dad and uncle ran. Unlike Ashiq, Patel’s parents were “very open and excited about the world,” he says. “They were so proud when I came out. I performed at Pride last year and my dad came with his friends.” Theatre classes in Oldham were an easier ride than his predominately white all-boys’ secondary school. “I was a queer child from the get-go,” he says, “and the focus was probably a lot more on that than being south Asian. I was just an easy target for everyone to project their insecurities on to. I learned a lot and I built up a thick skin.” He graduated from Rose Bruford performing arts college in 2018, and entered an industry he soon realised seemed ill-equipped to accommodate people of his sexual or ethnic identity. “The options just were not there,” he says. “When I’d network at a casting event, I could hear people saying there aren’t enough talented brown actors and I’d just think: you’re not looking hard enough.” He got down to the final call for a production of Aladdin but was then passed over because he was shorter than the white female actor playing Princess Jasmine. “I was the only brown person in that room and the only one who could sing well,” he says, ruefully. Patel recalled some advice from one of his university lecturers, Rebecca Pollock: “In third year she said: ‘You need to write, because if they won’t write you into the narrative, write it yourself.’” So, in between shifts at Selfridges in London, Patel started writing and performing his own brand of pop, R&B and Bollywood-inspired music; in 2022 his single One Last Dance helped get him selected as a BBC Music Introducing and Asian Network artist of the week. He is hoping for a boost to streams and sales after Unicorn is released. “Once this film comes out, people will realise they have been sleeping on me for too long,” he grins, proud of his own confidence. “You have to be a champion for yourself. Because if you don’t toot your own horn, who else will?”