Corey Hendrix doesn’t have to manufacture grit for the screen. He was raised on it—on the porches, courts, and corners of North Lawndale, a historically rich but economically overlooked stretch of Chicago’s West Side. It’s where he first learned to observe people—to listen closely, speak with intent, and recognize when silence said more.
“We filmed The Chi right in North Lawndale, where I grew up,” Hendrix said. “Most of my scenes had that same energy—it was all familiar. That wasn’t acting. That was just Tuesday for many people I grew up around.”
Before the cameras or casting calls, Hendrix was just a kid on the West Side, trying to figure out what came next. He graduated from George Westinghouse in 2000—part of the first wave of newly minted millennials. Back then, there was a lot of talk that this class would “lead the world.” But in neighborhoods like North Lawndale, the future didn’t always come with a clear path. Still, Hendrix held on to his dream—even when it felt far off.
“Back then, we didn’t talk about acting as a real path. You’d maybe hear someone say they wanted to be in movies, but it felt like saying you wanted to go to Mars.”
Still, Chicago had its own brand of stage—one built in lunchroom cyphers, church performances, high school talent shows, and sidewalk storytelling. And Hendrix was always watching.
On weekends, you might find him hanging at The Circle, a West Side staple for teens looking to see and be seen. It was a ritual, almost a rite of passage, complete with trying to get phone numbers and show out just enough to stand out—but not so much that you’d get clowned.
“On a good night? Maybe two or three numbers, max. But it wasn’t even about that. It was about presence. About being there.”
That presence would carry him forward. Hendrix later enrolled at Southern Illinois University in Carbondale, where he realized quickly that being from the West Side came with assumptions—and baggage.
“The moment I told people I was from the West Side, the South Side kids would clown me. It was automatic. I had to call home and ask, ‘Yo, is there something I missed?’”
There was. The often-unspoken cultural divide between the South and West Sides of Chicago ran deeper than high school basketball rivalries. It was rooted in migration patterns, resource distribution, and urban policy—things Hendrix wouldn’t fully grasp until adulthood. Still, the divide shaped him.
“It made me sharper. You had to defend your side, your neighborhood, your whole identity sometimes. That kind of pride doesn’t leave you. It just gets more refined.”
Even now, as his career gains national recognition, Hendrix remains firmly rooted in North Lawndale. While many of his castmates on FX’s The Bear fly back to Los Angeles or New York between seasons, Corey stays.
“I’m here. I never left. After filming, all the restaurants start reaching out—‘Corey, can you come by? Bring your castmates!’ I’m like, ‘They’re gone, man. It’s just me,’” he laughs.
Finding His Voice in The Chi
Before The Bear, before even Fargo, there was The Chi. For Corey Hendrix, the Lena Waithe–created series wasn’t just a breakout opportunity—it was the turning point when the dream stopped feeling distant.
He’d moved to Los Angeles chasing work, but when he booked The Chi, it brought him right back to Chicago for filming. It was his first major television gig, and it came with six episodes and something even more powerful: proximity to home.
“I remember filming scenes and thinking, this is my real neighborhood. I’m not playing Chicago—I am Chicago,” he said.
That weight wasn’t lost on him. For all the talk about representation, The Chi was one of the first shows to let Corey bring himself fully into a role. The writing didn’t flatten his experience, and the location work made it feel personal.
“There’s something about filming in the city you’re from. You move different. You act different. You know what certain looks mean. You know when someone’s just hanging out—or if they’re up to something. There’s texture.”
But after season one, when he appeared in half a dozen episodes, Hendrix hit a familiar wall. When season two arrived, he was cast in just one.
“It’s the hardest part about this business. One year, you feel like you’re ascending. Next year, they go in a different direction and you’re barely in the story,” he said.
It wasn’t personal. In fact, his relationship with Waithe remained warm. The two shared that shorthand only Chicago natives understand—and in a business like theirs, that connection means something.
“I saw Lena at a dinner and told her I’d booked Fargo. She was hyped for me—said they’d work around my schedule for The Chi if they needed me, even though I had already booked Fargo. That meant a lot.”
Most people assume that being on TV means stability, but in reality, most SAG‑AFTRA actors don’t earn enough to qualify for union health benefits. To qualify, actors must earn at least $27,540 in covered wages annually—a number most never hit.
Hendrix didn’t come close.
“My son was born in July 2018. I didn’t even have $200 in my account. I was living in L.A. with an apartment I couldn’t afford,” he said. “Back then it was just, ‘don’t get sick.’ No extra money. No insurance. Just trying to hold it together.”
Things began to shift by the end of 2019, when work picked up—and with it, some breathing room.
“I’ve been blessed to have health insurance for these past five years or so,” he said. “But before that, man... it was rough.”
There was no nest egg, no safety net—just the pressure to produce. It wasn’t a glossy Hollywood narrative. It was sink or swim.
The Bear, the Wine, and the Work
When The Bear premiered, nobody expected it to become the kind of show people made time for—not even the cast.
“I knew it was different. The writing was tight. The tone felt new. But we didn’t know it’d be this,” Hendrix said. “It blew up. Jeremy [Allen White] already had fans from Shameless, but this? This was different.”
Hendrix plays “Sweeps,” a background fixture in the restaurant who slowly finds his footing as the kitchen evolves. At first, he was simply the guy fixing stuff, sweeping up, helping out. But by season two, he was studying wine.
Literally.
“I saw the script said my character was training to be a sommelier, so I had to get to work. I started reading about wine, going to tastings, talking to experts.”
At one point, production even connected him with sommeliers who explained how they train their palates and refine their instincts.
“It’s wild — they do tastings early in the morning because your senses are sharper. I was sipping and spitting wine before 10 a.m., tipsy as hell, thinking, I have to film later today.”
But for Hendrix, the wine storyline wasn’t just quirky character development—it was symbolic.
“It’s about growth. Sweeps isn’t a chef. He doesn’t have formal training. But wine? That’s a lane he can own. He can refine himself. He can reinvent.”
The show, now entering its third season, has earned multiple Emmys and near-universal critical acclaim. But what’s equally rare is the dynamic on set.
“No egos. None. We’re three seasons in, awards are coming in, and everyone’s still down-to-earth. It feels like an indie project with a big budget.”
That spirit—humble, collaborative, sharp—reflects how Hendrix views his place in the ensemble. He’s not jockeying for top billing. He’s building something slower, but stronger.
And he’s doing it from home.
“I’m the only one from Chicago who lives here. So when the season wraps, everyone else leaves—L.A., New York, France. I stay. I go eat at all the spots. The food groups call like, ‘Can you come out?’ And I’m like, ‘Of course. I live here.’”
Father First
More than any role, fatherhood reshaped how Hendrix moved—not just in his career, but in his entire sense of urgency. By the time he learned in 2017 that he was going to be a dad, he’d already been grinding for years, booking roles here and there, trying to make just enough. But now the stakes were higher. The hustle wasn’t theoretical anymore.
“I had done season one of The Chi, and I was starting to see a little light,” he said. “But I wasn’t stable. I was still trying to figure it out.”
His son was born the next summer—and everything shifted.
“You’re not grinding for yourself anymore,” Hendrix said. “It’s not just your name on the lease. That kind of pressure can crush you — or focus you. For me, it was the latter.”
He doubled down on auditions. Took more risks. Traveled more strategically. Any job he took had to make sense—not just creatively, but practically. Could he still pick his son up from school? Would health insurance kick in?
“It’s not romantic. It’s real,” he said. “For the first year of his life, I was mostly just in the house with him, auditioning between diaper changes.”
Now, his son is six—old enough to start connecting dots between “Daddy’s job” and “Daddy’s face on TV.”
“At first, it just weirded him out. He’d see me on TV and be like, ‘Why are you on there?’” Hendrix said, laughing. “I took him to the set one day and showed him how we make stuff. He looked around and said, ‘Are they gonna make a movie about me?’ I was like, ‘Maybe, man. Maybe they will.’”
If Hendrix sounds grounded, it’s because he is. He’s not swept up in the illusion of stardom. He’s inside it—working, adjusting, learning—but not owned by it.
“I still gotta figure out who’s watching him when I go to L.A. I still gotta pack lunch and show up at school. It’s just life,” he said. “That’s what keeps me real.”
Even with the rising profile and steady work, Hendrix doesn’t claim to have it all figured out. His career is moving, yes, but it’s also evolving in ways he’s still trying to track.
“You can be in something great and still feel like you’re chasing the next gig. That’s the hustle part people don’t see,” he said.
But the doors are opening wider. He’s writing more. Looking into producing. Still acting. Still auditioning. And still putting his son first.
“I always wanted to do something big, but now I want it to matter. Not in the press release way — in the life way. What can I leave him that’s useful?”
There’s no blueprint for sustaining an acting career—and certainly not one while raising a kid in the city you never left. But Hendrix seems to have carved one for himself: work hard, stay home, give your all, and do it your way.
“Everything I’m doing now—this isn’t some reinvention," he said. "It’s just me evolving. Same kid from Lawndale. Still working. Still here — and still building.”
And with The Bear heating up for another season, and more eyes on him than ever, Hendrix isn’t trying to escape his past. He’s building on it—one project, one line, one moment at a time.