Billy Crudup’s post-theater school plans for a steady, workmanlike, and hopefully long career spent perfecting his craft were jackhammered by Almost Famous. Suddenly he was Hollywood’s Next Big Thing, and completely unprepared for the dubious responsibility that comes with that crown. In fact, he was pretty sure he didn’t even want the crown. “It throws you into some confusion about yourself and what you do and how each next move could affect that.” Going with his gut and opting instead for interesting, “weird-ass” parts that would foster growth meant saying no to really smart people who made really big movies. Not becoming a “star” also meant he had to keep reaching for something, and to find out what kind of an actor he really was. As it turns out, he’s the best kind – one who does it for all the right reasons.
Billy Crudup’s post-theater school plans for a steady, workmanlike, and hopefully long career spent perfecting his craft were jackhammered by Almost Famous. Suddenly he was Hollywood’s Next Big Thing, and completely unprepared for the dubious responsibility that comes with that crown. In fact, he was pretty sure he didn’t even want the crown. “It throws you into some confusion about yourself and what you do and how each next move could affect that.” Going with his gut and opting instead for interesting, “weird-ass” parts that would foster growth meant saying no to really smart people who made really big movies. Not becoming a “star” also meant he had to keep reaching for something, and to find out what kind of an actor he really was. As it turns out, he’s the best kind – one who does it for all the right reasons.
Billy Crudup’s post-theater school plans for a steady, workmanlike, and hopefully long career spent perfecting his craft were jackhammered by Almost Famous. Suddenly he was Hollywood’s Next Big Thing, and completely unprepared for the dubious responsibility that comes with that crown. In fact, he was pretty sure he didn’t even want the crown. “It throws you into some confusion about yourself and what you do and how each next move could affect that.” Going with his gut and opting instead for interesting, “weird-ass” parts that would foster growth meant saying no to really smart people who made really big movies. Not becoming a “star” also meant he had to keep reaching for something, and to find out what kind of an actor he really was. As it turns out, he’s the best kind – one who does it for all the right reasons.
From the this-just-in file: “Being in a band is not a normal job.” Chris Shiflett knows it’s a laughable understatement, especially when the band in question is the Foo Fighters, one of the few remaining rock acts that can record, tour and provide a (very) nice living for its members. So why does he still take guitar lessons, humble himself in songwriting workshops and log 14-hour days in the back of a van? The answer is love, friends – an all-consuming passion for making, discovering and understanding music. He didn’t always work so hard; he dropped out of school to enjoy the L.A. rock scene and “make it” in a band. Improbably and inevitably, he did. Yeah, there’s a lot of story in between. Shiflett shares it all, including his harrowing brush with bookkeeping, whoring, drinking and gambling. The last three of which come in handy when you’re writing excellent new country songs.
From the this-just-in file: “Being in a band is not a normal job.” Chris Shiflett knows it’s a laughable understatement, especially when the band in question is the Foo Fighters, one of the few remaining rock acts that can record, tour and provide a (very) nice living for its members. So why does he still take guitar lessons, humble himself in songwriting workshops and log 14-hour days in the back of a van? The answer is love, friends – an all-consuming passion for making, discovering and understanding music. He didn’t always work so hard; he dropped out of school to enjoy the L.A. rock scene and “make it” in a band. Improbably and inevitably, he did. Yeah, there’s a lot of story in between. Shiflett shares it all, including his harrowing brush with bookkeeping, whoring, drinking and gambling. The last three of which come in handy when you’re writing excellent new country songs.
From the this-just-in file: “Being in a band is not a normal job.” Chris Shiflett knows it’s a laughable understatement, especially when the band in question is the Foo Fighters, one of the few remaining rock acts that can record, tour and provide a (very) nice living for its members. So why does he still take guitar lessons, humble himself in songwriting workshops and log 14-hour days in the back of a van? The answer is love, friends – an all-consuming passion for making, discovering and understanding music. He didn’t always work so hard; he dropped out of school to enjoy the L.A. rock scene and “make it” in a band. Improbably and inevitably, he did. Yeah, there’s a lot of story in between. Shiflett shares it all, including his harrowing brush with bookkeeping, whoring, drinking and gambling. The last three of which come in handy when you’re writing excellent new country songs.
Listen closely to Elisabeth Moss’ monologue in Queen of Earth and underneath it, you’ll hear her heartbeat. It’s not nerves; it’s love. When Moss loves a scene, or hits her groove in it, her heart pounds so hard her mic has to be adjusted. She can’t remember ever not loving acting, something she’s done with confounding brilliance since the age of eight, but most recognizably since 17 in The West Wing, Mad Men, countless films and now to devastating effect in The Handmaid’s Tale. But if you’re here for tips, she ain’t spilling. She can’t. Rules and techniques that apply one day (or hour) go out the window the next. She’s willing to ponder it, though, and offer observations on character, directing, sucking, feminism and more. If we fail to solve how a true artist plies her craft, at least we fail alongside one of the best and most instinctual actors of our time.
Listen closely to Elisabeth Moss’ monologue in Queen of Earth and underneath it, you’ll hear her heartbeat. It’s not nerves; it’s love. When Moss loves a scene, or hits her groove in it, her heart pounds so hard her mic has to be adjusted. She can’t remember ever not loving acting, something she’s done with confounding brilliance since the age of eight, but most recognizably since 17 in The West Wing, Mad Men, countless films and now to devastating effect in The Handmaid’s Tale. But if you’re here for tips, she ain’t spilling. She can’t. Rules and techniques that apply one day (or hour) go out the window the next. She’s willing to ponder it, though, and offer observations on character, directing, sucking, feminism and more. If we fail to solve how a true artist plies her craft, at least we fail alongside one of the best and most instinctual actors of our time.
