In today’s cultural circus, where the line between reality and performance is blurrier than that old VHS tape of a high school production of Romeo and Juliet, it’s amusing to consider the true essence of Hollywood heavyweights. Take note: the folks who strut their stuff on the silver screen often have origins steeped in the melodrama of high school theater. Yes, that’s right. Tupac Shakur, the rapper turned actor who had more on-screen gangsta swagger than most of us have had hot dinners, might just be the poster child for this phenomenon. Before he sat down at a fictional diner with Will Smith’s wife, there was a time when he was just another kid reciting Shakespeare and hoping his friends wouldn’t vomit from laughter at his stage makeup.

The irony is rich. Picture this: Tupac, decked out in a beret, practicing his soliloquy while plotting how to emerge as the most feared man in rap. The cultural clash is almost a Shakespearean comedy in itself. On one hand, he’s calling out the B-word; on the other, he’s lining up romantic interest with Janet Jackson in Poetic Justice—a film subtitled with “Gangsta Love.” You can bet that a good portion of his repertoire was learned between dramatic warm-ups back in high school. It’s as if all the “theater geeks” who didn’t make the cut for stardom are sitting back, popcorn in hand, thinking, “Who knew being dramatic would pay off like this?”

Robert De Niro, that titan of Hollywood and the charmingly grumpy face of Goodfellas, is practically the quintessential example of today’s so-called “tough guys” stemming from a Broadway background. The man’s illustrious career spans from emoting on stage to intimidating opponents in films. Voila! The incredible transformation from theater kid to menacing onscreen mobster. If anyone thinks De Niro would actually kick your behind in a dark alley, they might want to re-evaluate their view on high school drama students. After all, the scariest guy from your local theater production is probably just rehearsing his lines for the next big audition.

And let’s not overlook Captain America himself, Chris Evans, who, in his quest to embody the American ideal, took a detour through the gym that appears to have stocked up on steroids. Being a superhero is all fine and good until you realize that the real superpower is being able to tweet at your political foes with the same fervor you’d use to lift a solid set of dumbbells. If you find yourself wondering what Evans would have done if he really was Captain America—brace yourself. He’d be rallying on Twitter, chastising Trump for all sorts of fictional grievances while the Hollywood elite applauds. Who needs a shield when you’ve got an online presence that could take on a real-life Hydra?

Here’s a delightful twist: the arts have always been a double-edged sword. One second, actors are hailed for their craft; the next, they’re pushed into the political spotlight, becoming the “sophisticated” voices of reason. But let us not forget the golden rule of Hollywood: an actress is a little more than a woman, while an actor might be a smidgen less than a man. It’s a tricky line to walk, one that echoes the same paradox of the theater kids themselves. They strut onto stage with bravado, only to reveal, through dramatic irony, that perhaps all their pent-up feelings embodied in the characters they play are merely expressions of their former high school selves—those misfits who dared to dream.

In a nutshell, the notion that the stars of our movies and television shows are anything but the class clowns, drama geeks, and broadway wannabes of old is one we must question. Perhaps next time you’re impressed by a celebrity’s performance on-screen, remember their stage origins, and chuckle at the delicious drama unfolding not just in movies, but in the very fabric of our cultural arguments. After all, in the grand theater of the absurd, perhaps it isn’t such a stretch to imagine that the biggest “savages” in the industry are just really good at pretending to be tough—a testimony to their remarkable ability to act while the rest of us watch in delightful disbelief.