Carlo Boumouglbay: Jersey Boys, Purpose and Wellbeing

Every once in a while, you sit down with someone whose story doesn’t just make you smile—it completely resets your perspective on luck, grit, and what it truly takes to chase down a dream.

That was exactly the feeling I had five minutes into my conversation with Carlo Boumouglbay.

If you have been following the musical theater scene in the UK lately, you already know Carlo is currently setting stages alight across the country as the swaggering, fast-talking Tommy DeVito in the smash-hit tour of Jersey Boys. But the road that brought him to 1960s Newark, New Jersey, is a whirlwind of serendipity, sweat, family roots, and a level of personal discipline that left me utterly floored.

To really understand how Carlo commands a room today, you have to rewind to where the music actually started. We aren’t talking about elite stage schools or private vocal coaches from age four. We are talking about pure, beautiful, unfiltered family chaos. On his mum’s side, Carlo comes from a staggering family tree where his mother was one of fourteen children; his father comes from a clan of nine. Half of his grandmother’s kids were born in Syracuse, Sicily, before migrating halfway across the globe to Melbourne, while the rest were born on Australian soil.

His dad’s journey was just as dramatic, having fled Lebanon in the wake of a family dispute to build an entirely new life in Australia. Eventually, fate brought his parents together in an Adelaide restaurant—his dad owned the place, his mum was waitressing, and the rest is history.

Growing up in that environment meant silence simply did not exist. Life was loud, vibrant, and constantly theatrical. Carlo laughed as he recalled the legendary family Christmas parties—affectionately dubbed the “Giardi Parties” after his mother’s family name, Giardina. With as many of the fourteen aunts and uncles as could fit crammed together, living rooms and backyards transformed into dance floors pulsing with tarantella, classic rock ’n’ roll, and old-school disco. His mother, Giuseppina (Josephine), would partner-dance across the floor with Uncle Antonio. His other Uncle Tony strummed away on a guitar that only had four strings, while Uncle Santo had everyone in stitches recounting wild stories for the seventh time that night. Aunties Rose and Paula would track down wigs and props for full-blown ABBA renditions, while Uncle Michael—the officially designated “proper singer” of the family—geared up for his vocal spotlight.

Whenever his mum drove him anywhere around the Gold Coast, where the family moved before Carlo was born, the car speakers rattled with Elvis Presley, classic rock, and—in a cosmic hint at what lay ahead—the soaring falsettos of Frankie Valli. At the same time, a young Carlo was glued to YouTube, mesmerised by home videos of a young Justin Bieber singing in local school talent shows. The seeds of performance were being planted deep, even if Carlo had no idea they were taking root.

Throughout his teens, Carlo wasn’t banking on applause for a living. By the time he hit his final year of high school, his eyes were locked on practical horizons: business, engineering, and whatever energy he had left over was spent driving to the hoop on the basketball court. Then came the curveball. His high school drama teacher saw something magnetic in him, tapped him on the shoulder, and cast him as Danny Zuko in the school production of Grease.

Stepping onto that stage in a leather jacket changed everything. The rush of live performance cracked open a hunger he couldn’t shake. Toward the end of the school year, a very close friend, Harley Wilson, gave him a casual nudge: Why don’t you audition for drama school? That offhand suggestion became the catalyst for Carlo’s entire theatrical career; to this day, Harley remains the first person Carlo calls to celebrate every career milestone.

There was only one catch: the audition deadline for the Bachelor of Musical Theatre program in Brisbane was a mere month away. Carlo threw together his material, took a deep breath, and threw his name into a brutal pool of roughly 600 hopefuls fighting for just 30 spots.

Weeks passed. Acceptance letters were supposed to go out, and his inbox was bone dry. Assuming he had missed the cut, he went on with his day—until he happened to scroll into his junk email folder. Sitting right there in the digital trash was his formal acceptance letter. He was going to drama school.

That leap into Brisbane wasn’t just an artistic awakening; it triggered a total personal evolution. Five years ago, fueled by deep empathy for animals, Carlo transitioned to a completely plant-based, vegan lifestyle. Coming from a restaurant family, food had never been an afterthought, and that culinary foundation gave him the skills to nourish himself properly on plant fuel. More than that, finding his true calling under the stage lights gave him an emotional grounding he had never experienced. The mental clarity, focus, and inner balance that came with theater aligned perfectly with how he treated his body.

When drama school wrapped, Carlo walked directly out the university doors into his professional debut in Sweet Charity, performing under a director who already knew his work ethic. It was an invaluable bridge into the professional sphere, made even richer by working alongside veteran performer Andy Cook. Cook quickly became a guiding light for Carlo, modeling ensemble professionalism, vocal longevity, and peak physical conditioning night after night.

From there, Carlo put his head down and tackled the unglamorous groundwork that shapes exceptional actors. He understudied Fiyero in a regional production of Wicked on the Gold Coast. He then spent eight months touring primary and secondary schools across Australia with the educational theater company Brainstorm, performing up to fifteen shows a week in echoing school gyms. While demanding, the experience proved profoundly rewarding—it taught him how to inspire young audiences, command rooms that initially seemed indifferent, and manage his mental and nutritional health under grueling tour demands.

After a run as understudied of Ted and was in the ensemble in an independent, razor-sharp production of Bonnie and Clyde at Sydney’s iconic Hayes Theatre Company, Carlo faced his ultimate endurance test: the massive 2022/2023 Australian tour of Mamma Mia!, sweeping through major arenas across Brisbane, Sydney, and Melbourne. Faced with intense choreography and an unforgiving schedule, Carlo abandoned casual workouts in favor of a rigid, athlete-grade regimen. Surviving eight shows a week—anchored by the legendary, non-stop 20-minute mega-mix finale—meant treating his body like a high-performance machine through strict daily stretching, targeted warm-ups, and disciplined recovery.

After closing Mamma Mia! and completing an Asian tour of Miss Saigon, life presented another crossroads. Carlo and his girlfriend had spent far too long navigating the strain of a long-distance relationship across continents. In early 2025, they took a leap of faith and relocated to the UK together.

Before the plane even touched down, Carlo was hustling. During 30-minute lunch breaks while rehearsing Round the Twist the Musical with the Queensland Theatre Company (QTC), he auditioned for Muriel’s Wedding in Leicester. That determination paid off immediately: he booked the role, planting his flag on UK soil, building a network of contacts, and signing with top-tier British representation.

Yet relocating to London comes with a rite of passage every artist understands: you still have to pay the rent.

Carlo balanced working as a one-to-one tutor for children with special needs by day with waiting tables three nights a week at Mildred’s, a popular vegan restaurant in Covent Garden. He carried plates, poured drinks, and greeted guests with the exact same warmth he brought to the stage. And this is where his story sounds like something written for the silver screen.

One evening, two diners sat down in his section. Carlo had no idea that the guests enjoying their dinner were associate director Danny Austin and casting associate Jill Green. As conversation flowed, they learned he was an Australian actor with extensive musical theater experience. Intrigued by his charisma and effortless presence, they looked at him and said the words every working performer dreams of hearing: You need to come in and audition for us.

The show was Jersey Boys. Carlo went through the wringer—multiple rounds of callbacks, vocal cuts, acting scenes, and chemistry tests. He poured every drop of his immigrant family’s soul, his stage discipline, and his musical chops into that audition room. When the call came offering him the principal role of Tommy DeVito, the tough-talking founder of The Four Seasons, Carlo broke down, immediately dialing his mum and his girlfriend to scream the news across the phone lines.

Stepping into Tommy DeVito’s shoes on the UK national tour flipped Carlo’s performance philosophy on its head. In earlier shows, fitness had centered on muscle mass and surviving heavy dance tracks. In Jersey Boys, the demand migrated entirely to vocal stamina, jaw relaxation, and precise articulation. Carrying heavy dialogue while executing explosive four-part harmonies night after night requires exceptional hydration and breath control. Carlo leaned into the tour’s community, finding inspiration in castmate Jarryd—a powerhouse of optimism who introduced Carlo to the Bulletproof Dancer conditioning program. Over thirteen weeks on the road, that system completely revolutionised Carlo’s stamina, keeping his body resilient while his voice stayed razor-sharp.

The tour itself has been an absolute triumph, met with roaring, rock-concert crowds in cities like Manchester. For Carlo, the show carries deep personal resonance every time the curtain goes up; singing Four Seasons classics night after night feels like an homage to his mum, whose car rides were defined by Frankie Valli tapes (even if her undisputed favorite song remains Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive”).

With the UK tour running through August, Carlo has dialed his lifestyle into near-monastic focus to sustain the run. He works closely with the production’s physiotherapy team, stays strictly plant-based, abstains from alcohol, and honors a daily ritual of vocal rest and recovery.

When you look at Carlo Boumouglbay, you don’t just see a gifted performer enjoying his big break. You see a masterclass in what happens when relentless preparation collides with unexpected opportunities. It’s about checking that forgotten junk folder. It’s about serving tables with the same dignity and fire that you bring to center stage. And above all, it’s about having the courage to back yourself completely when your moment arrives.