Isaiah Mustafa Has Made It, But He’s Not Done: Entering a New Era With 'Cross'

Actors are often defined by one role or one moment. Seventeen years in, Isaiah Mustafa is defined by more meaningful elements: growth and composure.

Thanks to a production delay, he’d been sitting on an apple box for nearly thirty minutes during a five-day Old Spice commercial shoot years ago. A large set piece was suspended above him as the day waned. The director told him to stay seated, and he did as instructed for a while. Growing restless, he eventually stood up to stretch his legs.

“Seconds after I get up, the cable snapped,” Mustafa recalls in our cover story interview. “The set came down, busted the apple box I was sitting on, like destroyed it.”

Full looks: Yves Saint Laurent

He was only a few feet away. The room went quiet. Mustafa tried to lighten it. “Don’t worry, I got eight more left,” he recalls saying. No one laughed. Later, someone explained why. “We all saw you almost got killed, so nobody wanted to laugh.” Then came the line that stuck. “If you aren’t the Old Spice guy now, I don’t know who is.”

That’s how identities are born. A moment crystallizes. A nickname sticks. For many, a viral explosion like that becomes a golden cage, a singular definition that the world refuses to let you out of. It would have been easy to live inside that image: The towel. The bravado. The fantasy. But for Mustafa, it was never the destination. It was just the door.

“It was just a job that I was just trying to pay some bills with,” Mustafa says. “It definitely wasn’t supposed to last seventeen years.” And yet, nearly two decades later, Mustafa hasn’t just survived the viral moment; he has outgrown it. He is defined less by being the “Old Spice Guy” and more by a relentless, almost athletic discipline to evolve.

Before the commercial and the culture-defining catchphrases, Mustafa spent years in the NFL. He cycled through practice squads. He got cut, and then he got cut again.

“The NFL prepared me for this moment,” he says. “Honestly, it prepared me how to deal with failure.” In professional football, the end of the road is brutal, but it is clear. There is no ambiguity. “When they let you go, when they release you, they tell you exactly why you didn’t make a team,” he says. “That happened to me, like, four times.”

In acting, the dismissal is quieter. A casting director doesn’t always tell you why; they just move on. But Mustafa had already developed the spiritual calluses to withstand the silence. “Nothing beats the rejection in the NFL,” he admits. “That’s heartbreaking.” That resolve is what kept him standing in line at commercial auditions when other actors might have quit.

At the time of the Old Spice audition, Mustafa was working at The Abbey in West Hollywood. The buzz about the commercial had circulated through the bar. When he finally got the call, he walked into a waiting room filled with what he describes as at least 100 men whose physiques looked more suited for Gold’s Gym than a commercial audition.

One actor had already worked the room, charming owners and drawing laughter from inside the casting space. Mustafa assumed the job was gone. So he went in loose.

“They were like, ‘Can you ride a horse? Can you ride bareback?’” he recalls. “And I was like, ‘I just did.’” The room broke into laughter. A few minutes stretched into half an hour. He got the job.

Recognition followed quickly. A stranger in line at Burke Williams. A woman in Whole Foods in Atlanta. People everywhere are asking, “Are you the Old Spice guy?” “How do you even say yes to that?” he ponders.

It would have been easy to live inside that image. The towel. The bravado. The surreal exaggeration of masculinity. Instead, it became a chapter.

Seventeen years later, after becoming a part of the cultural zeitgeist, Mustafa has become so much more. He has steadily built a resume that stretches far beyond his Old Spice days, including roles in major studio films like It Chapter Two, and now, he is part of a global franchise.

In Cross, the Prime Video series led by Aldis Hodge, Mustafa plays Detective John Sampson, a character rooted in loyalty, moral clarity and brotherhood. The series premiered to massive global viewership, reaching 40 million viewers in its first 20 days and quickly becoming the platform’s third biggest series premiere of 2024, expanding the James Patterson universe to a new generation and demographic.

The Cross audition arrived in his inbox like any other. He read the material. He saw who was attached. He wanted it, but he was careful. “Sometimes, when you want something too much, you can push it away from you,” he says.

He soon met Hodge during the chemistry read, and the connection was organic. Then, right before he was hired, he sat down with the showrunner [Ben Watkins], Hodge, and a couple of producers.

“There was no audition, no lines. It was just fellas hanging out, getting to know each other,” he says. They talked about fatherhood. About their fathers. About breaking cycles. About being Black men in America. “It was a beautiful conversation.”

As Sampson, Mustafa is far removed from the surreal bravado of Old Spice. “[Sampson] is just unapologetically Black,” he says. “He says what is on his mind.” But the detective isn’t reckless. “He also has this moral compass,” Mustafa adds. A moral compass shaped, in part, by Mustafa’s real-life experiences with D.C. police officers.

“I had an opportunity to go to D.C. before the show began and to meet D.C. detectives and to go on a couple ride-alongs,” he says. What he observed added nuance. “Instead of just locking you up, I might put you in the car, and we’re gonna take a ride, and I’m gonna lecture you, but I’m gonna let you go at the end. Those police officers in D.C. cared about the community.”

Mustafa’s specific mix of humility and hunger is rare for a man approaching his twentieth year in the industry. By all metrics, Mustafa has “made it.” He has the viral fame, the franchise role, and the respect of his peers. Yet, he refuses to act like a veteran. “I feel like I haven’t really started,” he admits. “I feel like I’m… like 21, fresh out the gates, don’t know nothing, I’m still learning.”

He isn’t speaking metaphorically. Mustafa is currently working on his Master of Fine Arts (MFA) and graduating this December. While other actors his age are coasting, he is writing papers and studying structure, pivoting from performance to authorship. “You’re hot one minute and then the next minute you’re not,” he says. “But storytelling is something that is eternal.”

When asked about legacy, he dismisses the mythology. “I think legacy is a myth,” he says. “I’m not going to be here.” If anything remains, he believes, it belongs to family. “If your family says we want to uphold your legacy, that’s a different question because that’s something for them.” What he protects most is more immediate. “I think the one thing I’m most protective of is my children.” In a culture built on constant exposure, he encourages restraint. “Don’t put yourself out there that much. Pull it back.”

When asked what he would tell his younger self, the version growing up in Oxnard, California, the place that “definitely put its stamp” on him, he speaks with perspective. “Don’t change anything. Make all those mistakes,” he says. “Just know that mistakes are good. Learn from it. Move on.”

That philosophy explains why a commercial didn’t define him, and why he continues to expand years later, defining pop culture moments, starring in hit television shows, and mastering his craft as a storyteller.

When Mustafa defines the quintessential gentleman, he talks about range. A man of the world. Someone who knows a little about everything, fashion, literature, culture, world events, and confident enough to hold a conversation in any room.

Isaiah Mustafa isn’t preserving a moment. He’s building beyond it. As he said, he feels like he hasn’t really gotten started. And somehow, you believe him.

Cross Season 2 is currently streaming on Prime Video. Check out the full interview.