Villainous and Fabulous: JP Karliak Smurfs It Up as Gargamel

From landing two villain roles in the upcoming Smurfs movie to voicing the groundbreaking Morph in X-Men ’97, JP Karliak brings authenticity, range, and heart to every character. In this candid conversation, he shares how queerness, creativity, and childhood imagination shaped his voice—and his voiceover journey.

INTERVIEW >>>

Hello, JP. What drew you to this project?
It was such a funny little experience. I’m a workhorse voice actor, not an on-camera celebrity. I was brought in, along with a bunch of other actors like myself, for a table read and to do some scratch vocals for the project. That’s pretty common at the beginning of production when they’re figuring out the script, doing storyboards, and getting approvals from executives before casting the big celebrity names.

I was asked to read for Razamal, who is Gargamel’s even more evil brother, as well as a few other characters. They just kept bringing me back to do more scratch recordings. At one point, they said, “We still don’t know who’s getting the role, but you’re doing a great job.” I thought, “Maybe I’ll end up as Smurf number 12 in the background. That would be nice.” 

Then I was on my honeymoon with my husband—we had just arrived in Athens, Greece, totally exhausted and jet-lagged.

He went downstairs to get a bottle of something, and I got a phone call from my agent who said, “Hi! Great news for your honeymoon—you booked the role.” That’s how I got Razamal. Of course, that made the honeymoon extra special.

Wait, did you have to cut your honeymoon short?

Oh, no, not at all. That’s one of the great things about animation—it’s not like filming on location where you have to rush somewhere. They plug you in when they can. I started recording Razamal, and at the time I think someone else was doing the scratch for Gargamel. There was one scene where the brothers talk to each other, and the team was trying to find Gargamel’s audio to pair with my Razamal.

Eventually, I said, “Do you want me to just do both?” So I performed both sides of the conversation, switching between the characters. Everyone’s jaws dropped. That version ended up going to producers, and they said, “Hey, let’s just give him both.” Every step of the way was so unexpected and surreal. It’s really been one pinch-me moment after another.

Were you familiar with the Smurfs before working on this?

Absolutely. I grew up in the ’80s watching Saturday morning cartoons. I knew the theme song by heart. Papa Smurf, Smurfette, Brainy—he was probably my favorite. I relate to Brainy, but I have a crush on Hefty. You know, it’s a common queer story.

Do you feel that working on Smurfs—and the Smurf culture—impacted your performance?

When we came in for the table read, we didn’t know what characters we’d be reading for. When they handed me Razamal, a new character, I immediately thought of Paul Winchell’s original Gargamel. 

Since Razamal is his brother, I wanted him to sound like family—similar but distinct. Then, when I got cast as Gargamel too, I thought, “Okay, Razamal is the other side of the coin of Paul Winchell. So for Gargamel, I’ll fully channel Winchell.” That was my approach.

You’ve voiced a wide range of characters—from villains to heroes. Do you have to mentally prepare for each shift? 

Not really. I grew up an only child, adopted, queer, and without a lot of friends. I was a huge people-pleaser with a big imagination. I tell people my characters come from childhood trauma. I was always code-switching—changing personas and voices to fit in. Thankfully, therapy has helped me move past that in real life, but I still use those skills when acting. There’s a little villain in all of us. It’s fun to let those parts out, whether it’s in characters like Gargamel or Dobby from Spider-Man, or even the joyous, happy characters I’ve voiced.

Which character you’ve voiced feels closest to who you are in real life? 

Probably Morph from X-Men ’97. Morph is the first non-binary superhero on animated TV. The show continues directly from the 1990s series. When I auditioned, I thought, “This is a funny character who uses humor to mask trauma, who’s exploring identity in the ’90s—this is just me.” So I played Morph as myself.

Do you think the voice acting industry has become more inclusive recently?

It’s been a bit of a roller coaster. Just before and during the pandemic, there was a huge push for diversity and authentic casting of queer characters. It was a really exciting time. But unfortunately, due to some backlash in the U.S., things are shifting again.

I co-run a nonprofit called Queer Vox that advocates for LGBTQIA+ voice actors. At first, the mission was very direct—lead with your identity. Now, it’s more about showcasing your versatility. Your excellence gets you in the room, not necessarily your identity. We want to appeal to the mainstream while still making space for queer talent.

Is there a voice you’ve mastered but haven’t been cast for yet?

Yes—Skeletor. He’s my hero. He-Man and the Masters of the Universe was the first cartoon I ever watched. I’ve played a lot of legacy characters, but Skeletor is the last one on my bucket list.

Do you think your identity influences how you shape roles?

Absolutely. Morph is one of the few overtly queer characters I’ve played, but I’ve also voiced many that are queer-coded. For example, on TrollsTopia, I played a troll with a giant pink Marie Antoinette wig who flew with wings. He was over-the-top and fabulous. But it was always important to bring authenticity, not caricature. That’s what makes the character beautiful—it’s not a stereotype, it’s simply who he is. I love being the surprise in the room. I’ve played tough characters like Alec Baldwin’s Boss Baby, and then I walk in with blue hair and pink nails.

People are like, “That’s you?” And I say, “Yep, that’s me.” I’m fortunate that my voice has the range to play all sorts of roles. It’s important to show that queer people—whether non-binary, trans, or otherwise—contain multitudes. I hope my work has opened some eyes and helped push casting beyond surface assumptions.

How many voices do you think you can do?

I teach voice acting as well. I’d say I have about 10 foundational voices. From there, it’s all about turning dials—raising or lowering the pitch, changing tempo, adding an accent. That gets you from 10 to 100. It’s really just a matter of tweaking.

Tell us about the new project you directed—Maxxie LaWow.

Yes! I’m super proud of this. In addition to voice acting, I also direct. The film is called Maxxie LaWow: Drag Super-Shero, and it’s now available on Amazon to rent or buy. It’s a family-friendly comedy about a mild-mannered barista in a West Hollywood-esque town who stumbles upon a magic wig that transforms him into a superhero drag queen. It has an amazing cast, and I’m proud of the work we did.

Final question: If you could have me ask you anything in the world, what would it be—and how would you answer? 

I love when people ask, “Why do you think queer portrayals in media matter?” Because they really do. As a queer kid who loved cartoons, I never saw myself reflected. But now, kids like me can watch shows, fall in love with a character, and later find out the actor behind the voice is queer. That spark of recognition is powerful. Whether it’s Smurfs, X-Men, or Spidey and His Amazing Friends, if my voice helps build that connection—especially for someone who doesn’t know a queer person in real life—then that’s progress. Even if it’s through cartoons, every step counts.