Do you suspect you might be an improv geek? If you’re not sure, let us help. Symptoms include – but aren’t limited to – regular interjection of the phrase, “Yes, and…” in dinner table conversation, no discernible fear of ASSCATs, and a strange feeling of déjà vu when watching Veep’s feckless press secretary Mike McLintock hand out another doleful “No comment.” If you are experiencing any of these symptoms, you are likely a) already beyond help and b) a big fan of Matt Walsh. The improv legend and Upright Citizen’s Brigade co-founder shares the story behind the iconic theater, the horrible trauma of being the middle child in a big family, why he loves making improv films (turns out it’s not for the money), and why trying to be funny is exactly what you don’t want to do.
Do you suspect you might be an improv geek? If you’re not sure, let us help. Symptoms include – but aren’t limited to – regular interjection of the phrase, “Yes, and…” in dinner table conversation, no discernible fear of ASSCATs, and a strange feeling of déjà vu when watching Veep’s feckless press secretary Mike McLintock hand out another doleful “No comment.” If you are experiencing any of these symptoms, you are likely a) already beyond help and b) a big fan of Matt Walsh. The improv legend and Upright Citizen’s Brigade co-founder shares the story behind the iconic theater, the horrible trauma of being the middle child in a big family, why he loves making improv films (turns out it’s not for the money), and why trying to be funny is exactly what you don’t want to do.
Remember Slumdog Millionaire? “It’s about an underdog who has a dream and goes gunning for it, refusing to stop. You struggle and fall on your face and you pick yourself up and get what you want.” Freida Pinto was describing her first film, and perhaps unwittingly, foreshadowing her own career. In the eight short years since, she managed to work with some of the best (and most baffling) directors in the business. But she didn’t always manage to get them to see beyond her looks. If finding substantive roles worth her time and talent requires some fight, okay then. “Even at 15 or 16, I could see myself being a superhero. I never saw myself as the sidekick or someone who didn’t have a voice.” She’s found one in Showtime’s Guerrilla, in which she is quite literally, a revolutionary. It’s a radical departure from what most folks thought she could do, except Pinto herself. Surrender, Hollywood.
Remember Slumdog Millionaire? “It’s about an underdog who has a dream and goes gunning for it, refusing to stop. You struggle and fall on your face and you pick yourself up and get what you want.” Freida Pinto was describing her first film, and perhaps unwittingly, foreshadowing her own career. In the eight short years since, she managed to work with some of the best (and most baffling) directors in the business. But she didn’t always manage to get them to see beyond her looks. If finding substantive roles worth her time and talent requires some fight, okay then. “Even at 15 or 16, I could see myself being a superhero. I never saw myself as the sidekick or someone who didn’t have a voice.” She’s found one in Showtime’s Guerrilla, in which she is quite literally, a revolutionary. It’s a radical departure from what most folks thought she could do, except Pinto herself. Surrender, Hollywood.
Remember Slumdog Millionaire? “It’s about an underdog who has a dream and goes gunning for it, refusing to stop. You struggle and fall on your face and you pick yourself up and get what you want.” Freida Pinto was describing her first film, and perhaps unwittingly, foreshadowing her own career. In the eight short years since, she managed to work with some of the best (and most baffling) directors in the business. But she didn’t always manage to get them to see beyond her looks. If finding substantive roles worth her time and talent requires some fight, okay then. “Even at 15 or 16, I could see myself being a superhero. I never saw myself as the sidekick or someone who didn’t have a voice.” She’s found one in Showtime’s Guerrilla, in which she is quite literally, a revolutionary. It’s a radical departure from what most folks thought she could do, except Pinto herself. Surrender, Hollywood.
If you want to know about Jenny Slate, you could see her standup, TV shows (Married, Girls, Bored to Death), or movies (Obvious Child, Gifted, My Blind Brother). But at the heart of her work and her identity as an artist is a child – a beautiful, eccentric, wounded, wishful girl who saw a garden and wanted to live in it. Slate knows it’s a metaphor, but like all good allegories, it carries a lesson: Find what is precious to you and about you, then guard and cultivate it with everything you have. Water your garden. Pull the weeds. And don’t forget to sit in the sunshine for a while when you’re done. We talk about the experiences that shaped her as an actor, her creative process, and the accidentally appropriate Marcel. But mostly, we talk About the House.
If you want to know about Jenny Slate, you could see her standup, TV shows (Married, Girls, Bored to Death), or movies (Obvious Child, Gifted, My Blind Brother). But at the heart of her work and her identity as an artist is a child – a beautiful, eccentric, wounded, wishful girl who saw a garden and wanted to live in it. Slate knows it’s a metaphor, but like all good allegories, it carries a lesson: Find what is precious to you and about you, then guard and cultivate it with everything you have. Water your garden. Pull the weeds. And don’t forget to sit in the sunshine for a while when you’re done. We talk about the experiences that shaped her as an actor, her creative process, and the accidentally appropriate Marcel. But mostly, we talk About the House.
If you want to know about Jenny Slate, you could see her standup, TV shows (Married, Girls, Bored to Death), or movies (Obvious Child, Gifted, My Blind Brother). But at the heart of her work and her identity as an artist is a child – a beautiful, eccentric, wounded, wishful girl who saw a garden and wanted to live in it. Slate knows it’s a metaphor, but like all good allegories, it carries a lesson: Find what is precious to you and about you, then guard and cultivate it with everything you have. Water your garden. Pull the weeds. And don’t forget to sit in the sunshine for a while when you’re done. We talk about the experiences that shaped her as an actor, her creative process, and the accidentally appropriate Marcel. But mostly, we talk About the House.
