Like a lot of kids, Adam Scott loved movies, but it was a 5-inch black and white TV and David Letterman that really blew his mind and cemented his secret plan to become an actor. When he finally arrived in L.A., it seemed the welcome mat had gone missing. Fifteen years and countless auditions later, roles in Step Brothers, Parks and Recreation and indies like The Vicious Kind have made him one of the busiest and most versatile actors around. Now in a position to choose and make projects that resonate with his own sensibility, he’s also added producing to his busy schedule. In our chat, he talks about overcoming nerves, the amazing stuff you can learn on YouTube, and why he’s so excited about chasing new creative material. Maybe it’s because, like a certain band, he still hasn’t found what he’s looking for.
Like a lot of kids, Adam Scott loved movies, but it was a 5-inch black and white TV and David Letterman that really blew his mind and cemented his secret plan to become an actor. When he finally arrived in L.A., it seemed the welcome mat had gone missing. Fifteen years and countless auditions later, roles in Step Brothers, Parks and Recreation and indies like The Vicious Kind have made him one of the busiest and most versatile actors around. Now in a position to choose and make projects that resonate with his own sensibility, he’s also added producing to his busy schedule. In our chat, he talks about overcoming nerves, the amazing stuff you can learn on YouTube, and why he’s so excited about chasing new creative material. Maybe it’s because, like a certain band, he still hasn’t found what he’s looking for.
Imagine yourself in a cage being pelted with spit and various other disagreeable bio-wastes. That would be a fairly bad day for anyone, except maybe Todd Phillips, who comes from the “by any means necessary” school of filmmaking. Photography was a way into film school, dropping out of film school was a way into documentaries, and documentaries were a way into Sundance, and… Well, if you meet Ivan Reitman on the street and he asks you if you can write, you do what’s necessary. After making The Hangover series and Due Date in a five-year span, netting Warner Brothers a tidy $1.7 billion in the process, Phillips no longer needs to resort to extremes to make movies. But that doesn’t mean he has nothing to prove. Take his upcoming film War Dogs, where he proves that you can remove most of the gags from a buddy movie, mix in a complex political issue and still create a provocative and entertaining film. One we urge you to see in a theater with some of your fellow human beings.
Imagine yourself in a cage being pelted with spit and various other disagreeable bio-wastes. That would be a fairly bad day for anyone, except maybe Todd Phillips, who comes from the “by any means necessary” school of filmmaking. Photography was a way into film school, dropping out of film school was a way into documentaries, and documentaries were a way into Sundance, and… Well, if you meet Ivan Reitman on the street and he asks you if you can write, you do what’s necessary. After making The Hangover series and Due Date in a five-year span, netting Warner Brothers a tidy $1.7 billion in the process, Phillips no longer needs to resort to extremes to make movies. But that doesn’t mean he has nothing to prove. Take his upcoming film War Dogs, where he proves that you can remove most of the gags from a buddy movie, mix in a complex political issue and still create a provocative and entertaining film. One we urge you to see in a theater with some of your fellow human beings.
Imagine yourself in a cage being pelted with spit and various other disagreeable bio-wastes. That would be a fairly bad day for anyone, except maybe Todd Phillips, who comes from the “by any means necessary” school of filmmaking. Photography was a way into film school, dropping out of film school was a way into documentaries, and documentaries were a way into Sundance, and… Well, if you meet Ivan Reitman on the street and he asks you if you can write, you do what’s necessary. After making The Hangover series and Due Date in a five-year span, netting Warner Brothers a tidy $1.7 billion in the process, Phillips no longer needs to resort to extremes to make movies. But that doesn’t mean he has nothing to prove. Take his upcoming film War Dogs, where he proves that you can remove most of the gags from a buddy movie, mix in a complex political issue and still create a provocative and entertaining film. One we urge you to see in a theater with some of your fellow human beings.
Luke Wilson is not an actor who works hard to grab your attention. Maybe his natural screen presence is why he plays “average guy” roles so much better than the average guy. But it’s his less mainstream work that reveals him to be a truly nuanced actor who absolutely loves what he does. Wilson’s Dallas childhood, populated with cultural figures like Jim Lehrer, writer John Graves, Richard Avedon, and his own parents, was certainly far from average. That tight, idyllic Tenenbaum-esque world included brothers Andrew and Owen and close friend Wes Anderson (Woody Harrelson, FYI—your admission request is pending). Herein, Wilson shares Sisyphean tales of making films like Bottle Rocket and Satellite Beach and his transition to playing more dramatic roles. Famously laid back, he admits there are times when winging it doesn’t pay off—like when you’re in an elevator with Gene Hackman and a falcon. Unlike his filmic cohort Dignan, Wilson never had a grand plan for his career; but when you’re making art for the purest possible reasons, you don’t really need one.
Luke Wilson is not an actor who works hard to grab your attention. Maybe his natural screen presence is why he plays “average guy” roles so much better than the average guy. But it’s his less mainstream work that reveals him to be a truly nuanced actor who absolutely loves what he does. Wilson’s Dallas childhood, populated with cultural figures like Jim Lehrer, writer John Graves, Richard Avedon, and his own parents, was certainly far from average. That tight, idyllic Tenenbaum-esque world included brothers Andrew and Owen and close friend Wes Anderson (Woody Harrelson, FYI—your admission request is pending). Herein, Wilson shares Sisyphean tales of making films like Bottle Rocket and Satellite Beach and his transition to playing more dramatic roles. Famously laid back, he admits there are times when winging it doesn’t pay off—like when you’re in an elevator with Gene Hackman and a falcon. Unlike his filmic cohort Dignan, Wilson never had a grand plan for his career; but when you’re making art for the purest possible reasons, you don’t really need one.
Luke Wilson is not an actor who works hard to grab your attention. Maybe his natural screen presence is why he plays “average guy” roles so much better than the average guy. But it’s his less mainstream work that reveals him to be a truly nuanced actor who absolutely loves what he does. Wilson’s Dallas childhood, populated with cultural figures like Jim Lehrer, writer John Graves, Richard Avedon, and his own parents, was certainly far from average. That tight, idyllic Tenenbaum-esque world included brothers Andrew and Owen and close friend Wes Anderson (Woody Harrelson, FYI—your admission request is pending). Herein, Wilson shares Sisyphean tales of making films like Bottle Rocket and Satellite Beach and his transition to playing more dramatic roles. Famously laid back, he admits there are times when winging it doesn’t pay off—like when you’re in an elevator with Gene Hackman and a falcon. Unlike his filmic cohort Dignan, Wilson never had a grand plan for his career; but when you’re making art for the purest possible reasons, you don’t really need one.
