The ‘Admiration Society’ column brings together two creative individuals from different fields for a wide-ranging conversation.
Actor and producer Regina Hall shares more than just a December 12th birthday with musician Sheila E.; they also live in California. Despite their shared traits, their paths have rarely crossed, typically only by chance. A notable moment was in 2022, when Hall co-hosted the Academy Awards, and Sheila E. performed with an all-star band at the same event.
Regina Hall, 54, a Washington, D.C. native, began her acting journey in New York in her early twenties. Her breakout role came at 29 as the sharp-witted Brenda Meeks in the ‘Scary Movie’ franchise. Since then, she has gracefully transitioned between major studio productions and independent films. This month, she stars alongside Leonardo DiCaprio, Sean Penn, and Teyana Taylor in Paul Thomas Anderson’s “One Battle After Another.” This satirical action-drama, loosely based on Thomas Pynchon’s 1990 novel “Vineland,” sees a group of former revolutionaries unite to rescue one of their children. For audiences accustomed to Hall’s comedic genius in films like ‘Think Like a Man’ (2012) and ‘Girls Trip’ (2017), this role marks a significant departure. Hall herself notes, “I’m not funny in it at all. She’s a very quiet and emotional character, which was something different to play.”
Sheila E., 67, has been defying expectations throughout her illustrious career. At 26, when she embarked on her solo journey, she challenged her record label to release a lead single that highlighted her prowess as a percussionist, not just a pop singer. Her 1984 funk anthem, “The Glamorous Life,” which showcased her dynamic timbales, soared into the Billboard Top 10 and became her iconic track. “There’s not a show that I don’t play it, because I love that song,” she affirms. Hailing from a musical family—her father, Pete Escovedo, is a renowned Latin-jazz percussionist—Sheila E. has masterfully played drums and various instruments across R&B, salsa, and even country genres. Her collaborations span legends like Prince, Michael Jackson, Hans Zimmer, and Beyoncé. In February, she earned her first Grammy Award in the Best Global Music Performance category for “Bemba Colorá,” a powerful collaboration with Gloria Estefan and Mimy Succar.
When these two influential women met in August at a vast studio in the San Fernando Valley, they took photos, shared laughter, FaceTimed a friend, and engaged in a profound conversation covering themes of faith, family, and the profound purposes of fame.
Regina Hall: Do you have any idea what you represent to women of all ages? Since I was young — since you were young — you have been so empowering, gorgeous, feminine, strong, badass.
Sheila E.: I’m always in the moment. I just do what I want to do, what I get to do, what I love to do. I don’t know until someone says something like, “Do you know what you’ve done?” I can’t begin to tell you how many [people], especially women and young girls, D.M. me. Nine-year-olds, 2-year-olds, their parents are sending me videos. People from all over the world who I can mentor now through social media.
R.H.: The first time I saw you, [it was] the first video where I had ever seen myself. The fact that you were a drummer too. I didn’t even know that was possible. And then, I have older brothers who had a completely different kind of reaction!
S.E.: I’m sure. I’m sure.
R.H.: I know you grew up in Oakland [Calif.] and your father’s a musician. What was most impactful about learning and understanding music in Oakland, the birthplace of so many incredible artists?
S.E.: That part. I wouldn’t be me if I had been born somewhere else. I was influenced by so many great artists from the Bay Area: Carlos Santana, the Grateful Dead, Sly Stone, Larry Graham, the Pointer Sisters, Tower of Power. Growing up and listening to those bands and then, later on, meeting them and becoming friends and family with them. And I also owe it to my dad. I was 5 years old watching my daddy practice every day in the house. Musicians would come over and they would have jam sessions.
R.H.: How would you describe your connection between God and creativity?
S.E.: I didn’t know it until I was 15. My dad was signed with Clive Davis at the time. He had this 24-piece band [Azteca, co-founded in 1972 with his brother Coke Escovedo], and they were touring with the Temptations. They were out with everyone — Santana, Stevie [Wonder]. My dad’s other percussion player got sick, and I was like, “Daddy, Daddy, I know the music!” He’s like, “No, no. You’re 15. You don’t know nothing.” So I went to my mom: “Daddy won’t let me play!” Next thing I know [I’m onstage in San Francisco], with no rehearsal, because I knew all the music by heart. My dad turns to me in the middle of one of the songs and says, “I want you to take a solo.” So I start to play. I close my eyes and, next thing I know, my spirit leaves my body. I’m looking down at myself playing, and I hear nothing. I see all the people. I’m looking at myself, going, “Wait, why am I up here? This doesn’t make sense. Did I just die?” I don’t know how long that was [but] I started to come back into my body. I could hear some of the music, and I could hear some of the crowd. It was like someone was gradually turning up the [volume]. When I opened my eyes, I was shaking while I was playing. And then the tears started.
R.H.: Is that when you knew [this is what you were meant to do]?
S.E.: One hundred percent. After we were done, we went backstage and my dad was tripping. He just had his mouth open, like, “What just happened?” I hugged him. We both started crying. I was like, “Daddy, this is what I’m supposed to do.” Two weeks later, we were flying to Bogotá, Colombia, for my first show with my dad on tour. And that’s been my life.
R.H.: I would’ve loved to have seen that 15-year-old girl. Did that ever happen to you in a performance again?
S.E.: It happens every time I play.
R.H.: That’s crazy. That’s incredible.
S.E.: That’s God.
T Magazine: I know one of the many things that the two of you share is a relationship with Catholicism. Regina, what role does your faith play in your life and in your art?
R.H.: It would have to be everything. There’s so much uncertainty. There are so many decisions we make, good and bad, which means there’s so much grace. I’ve had a lot of grace in my life. I have a blessed life, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t have many challenges and many disappointments, or heartbreaks. But I am certain that, in my most difficult times, God is there. What’s Romans 8:28? “All things work together for the good …”
S.E. and R.H.: “… for those who are called according to His purpose.”
R.H.: That doesn’t mean I don’t get upset, but I think it’s the thing that sustains me — not just through difficult moments but through joyful ones too. People are designed for love, not praise, right? You love hearing that your work is touching people. You want to do your best. You also have seen enough of life in the world to know what really matters. And that would be God. And that would be friends and loved ones. And so there’s perspective that faith gives you. Then there’s the impact your [family] has too, right?
S.E.: Yeah, [my father’s] self-taught as well, so he always says, “God has given us this gift.” Because some of it you can’t teach. When I’m playing drums, I have to separate every limb, because every limb is doing something different at the same time, all while I’m singing. But it’s the same thing for you: reading scripts, remembering pages and pages of dialogue and then you have to be in different places, making it feel natural.
R.H.: My brain might do that, but my body cannot. My body is like, “We function as a unit.” It doesn’t know how to separate one thing from another. But yes, if I can read it, I can remember it. I can hear the characters.
S.E.: I can’t do that. Well, not yet, anyway.
R.H.: Listen, [to get me to play drums] you’d have to kidnap me and then force me and then I could probably get maybe half a song. But I love music.
S.E.: OK, here’s what we’re gonna do. I know you signed a [production] deal, right? Creating all kinds of stuff. Put me in something and I’ll teach you how to play drums. It’ll take me one minute, maybe three minutes to show you how to play a beat.
R.H.: That’s easy. I’ll take that deal! We’re gonna remake “The Miracle Worker” (1962). Let me give you 10 minutes! I mean, you’re doing a lot [when you play drums].
S.E.: I don’t think about it. It’s what I’m feeling. It’s an emotion.
R.H.: That’s how acting is for me. I don’t think about it. If I read something, whether it’s a comedy or drama, it’s just the spaces in between that are different for me.
S.E.: When I’m mentoring, I explain to people that the space in music is the most important part, because if there’s no space, there’s no breathing. There’s no life to the music.
R.H.: Give me an example of that in one of your songs.
S.E.: I’m gonna give you an example like this: A lot of times, as a drummer, you have to be simple. You have to make sure you’re not getting in the way. There are drummers who play so much stuff, it’s murky. You’re playing over everybody. You’re not listening. Music is like a conversation: We talk and then we listen.
T: Regina, you’ve talked in the past about improvisation, particularly when it comes to comedy. For instance, you and Kevin Hart improvised a lot in “About Last Night” (2014) and “Me Time” (2022).
R.H.: The big thing, especially when you’re doing comedy, is you’re never trying to out-funny. You’re working together. It’s cohesive. You’re not pushing for the humor. It’s like, “I’m gonna ride with what Kevin says.” So much of it is about being present. Whether it’s a drama or a comedy or music, it’s a conversation. And it’s in the spaces in between that you find the beauty.
S.E.: That’s the thing: It’s timing. That’s the gift. You’re not trying; it’s who you are. Does anyone else in your family act?
R.H.: No. I was living in New York [after graduating from Fordham University with a B.A. in communications], and my parents were like, “Regina, you either got to get a job or you got to come home.” I was just in New York going to clubs!
S.E.: We all did.
R.H.: So I decided I’d go back to school to study journalism. My first semester [of the master’s of arts program in journalism at New York University], my father had a stroke and suddenly passed away. I was 23. I had a friend who said that I could make some extra money acting. So I had a very late start. I didn’t understand the business. But I loved it. People think I’m a comedian. But I never did comedy.
S.E.: Really? You’re so natural at it.
R.H.: It’s just the way I would read it, and I’d be like, “Oh, that’s funny.” When I did “Scary Movie” (2000), I didn’t really know that Brenda was supposed to be prissy. That just wasn’t how I translated it. So I auditioned, and they were like, “Well, gosh, we never thought of it that way.” [Comedy] is in the translation of it. And I ended up loving it. And it ended up working out. But it was more of a byproduct of loss. Hopefully, Daddy is proud.
S.E.: Of course he is.
This interview has been edited and condensed.