We really wanted in, just to see what goes on in there. The quick, pinging pinball machine that is Thomas Middleditch’s brain seems a veritable bouncy house of voices, characters and jokes that might spit you out exhausted and a bit queasy, but having thoroughly enjoyed the ride. Long before landing the lead on HBO’s Silicon Valley, he paid his dues in improv, sketch and standup, all while writing and making hopeful, hilarious use of the Internet. But Middleditch knows the most effective humor has bass notes of sadness, and his early years reverberated with them.
In our talk, he opens up about the effects of a rather lonely and picked-upon childhood. If he rebounded with a bit of arrogance, well, sometimes hubris is the only thing that keeps you going in the face of half-empty theaters and failed auditions. Looking back, he says he doesn’t regret a moment of his roundabout career path through the cafeterias, dog parks and high seas of comedy. To our followers, we extend an invite to board the Off Camera Fun Cruise with First Mate Tom Middleditch. To Darren Lindsay (wherever you are), we extend a kick in the arse.
We really wanted in, just to see what goes on in there. The quick, pinging pinball machine that is Thomas Middleditch’s brain seems a veritable bouncy house of voices, characters and jokes that might spit you out exhausted and a bit queasy, but having thoroughly enjoyed the ride. Long before landing the lead on HBO’s Silicon Valley, he paid his dues in improv, sketch and standup, all while writing and making hopeful, hilarious use of the Internet. But Middleditch knows the most effective humor has bass notes of sadness, and his early years reverberated with them.
In our talk, he opens up about the effects of a rather lonely and picked-upon childhood. If he rebounded with a bit of arrogance, well, sometimes hubris is the only thing that keeps you going in the face of half-empty theaters and failed auditions. Looking back, he says he doesn’t regret a moment of his roundabout career path through the cafeterias, dog parks and high seas of comedy. To our followers, we extend an invite to board the Off Camera Fun Cruise with First Mate Tom Middleditch. To Darren Lindsay (wherever you are), we extend a kick in the arse.
We really wanted in, just to see what goes on in there. The quick, pinging pinball machine that is Thomas Middleditch’s brain seems a veritable bouncy house of voices, characters and jokes that might spit you out exhausted and a bit queasy, but having thoroughly enjoyed the ride. Long before landing the lead on HBO’s Silicon Valley, he paid his dues in improv, sketch and standup, all while writing and making hopeful, hilarious use of the Internet. But Middleditch knows the most effective humor has bass notes of sadness, and his early years reverberated with them.
In our talk, he opens up about the effects of a rather lonely and picked-upon childhood. If he rebounded with a bit of arrogance, well, sometimes hubris is the only thing that keeps you going in the face of half-empty theaters and failed auditions. Looking back, he says he doesn’t regret a moment of his roundabout career path through the cafeterias, dog parks and high seas of comedy. To our followers, we extend an invite to board the Off Camera Fun Cruise with First Mate Tom Middleditch. To Darren Lindsay (wherever you are), we extend a kick in the arse.
Imogen Poots has the resume of an actor twice her age and the chops to match. When you’ve worked with Peter Bogdanovich, Terrence Malick, Richard Linklater, and Cary Fukunaga, all by the time you’re 27, your bulb would have to be sputtering pretty badly if you didn’t learn a thing or two about your craft. Poots is smart, sure, but more importantly, wise. Smart is trying to choose good projects; wise is knowing the outcome isn’t guaranteed and thriving on that uncertainty. (A good tip for surviving not only Hollywood, but life in general.) Smart is knowing the size of the bra that wardrobe hands you on day one of a shoot can signal a creative issue; wise is knowing, “You’re here on Earth for a hot second, so you may as well spend your time doing something you believe in.” Even though her career has consisted mostly of films, Poots believed in Cameron Crowe’s Roadies enough to make an open-ended commitment to a TV series, and she’s chosen well. Turns out music—albums, please—is a treasure she hoards and enjoys sparingly, wanting to preserve her sheer enjoyment of its magic. Which is kind of how we felt about this conversation.
Imogen Poots has the resume of an actor twice her age and the chops to match. When you’ve worked with Peter Bogdanovich, Terrence Malick, Richard Linklater, and Cary Fukunaga, all by the time you’re 27, your bulb would have to be sputtering pretty badly if you didn’t learn a thing or two about your craft. Poots is smart, sure, but more importantly, wise. Smart is trying to choose good projects; wise is knowing the outcome isn’t guaranteed and thriving on that uncertainty. (A good tip for surviving not only Hollywood, but life in general.) Smart is knowing the size of the bra that wardrobe hands you on day one of a shoot can signal a creative issue; wise is knowing, “You’re here on Earth for a hot second, so you may as well spend your time doing something you believe in.” Even though her career has consisted mostly of films, Poots believed in Cameron Crowe’s Roadies enough to make an open-ended commitment to a TV series, and she’s chosen well. Turns out music—albums, please—is a treasure she hoards and enjoys sparingly, wanting to preserve her sheer enjoyment of its magic. Which is kind of how we felt about this conversation.
Imogen Poots has the resume of an actor twice her age and the chops to match. When you’ve worked with Peter Bogdanovich, Terrence Malick, Richard Linklater, and Cary Fukunaga, all by the time you’re 27, your bulb would have to be sputtering pretty badly if you didn’t learn a thing or two about your craft. Poots is smart, sure, but more importantly, wise. Smart is trying to choose good projects; wise is knowing the outcome isn’t guaranteed and thriving on that uncertainty. (A good tip for surviving not only Hollywood, but life in general.) Smart is knowing the size of the bra that wardrobe hands you on day one of a shoot can signal a creative issue; wise is knowing, “You’re here on Earth for a hot second, so you may as well spend your time doing something you believe in.” Even though her career has consisted mostly of films, Poots believed in Cameron Crowe’s Roadies enough to make an open-ended commitment to a TV series, and she’s chosen well. Turns out music—albums, please—is a treasure she hoards and enjoys sparingly, wanting to preserve her sheer enjoyment of its magic. Which is kind of how we felt about this conversation.
Kathryn Hahn swears she is horrible at selling herself, but these days, Hollywood sure seems to be buying. With film and TV roles multiplying in both quantity and scope, she’s proven herself among the most versatile, funny and increasingly acclaimed actors working today. That has to give you some confidence, right? Well, maybe. It’s taken Hahn a minute to find and own herself and her talent, and she says she’s still figuring it out; but at this point, she’s wise enough to know what she values not only in the projects she takes on, but in life. As well she should–given the opportunities she’s had to work with and learn from some of the best, including Will Ferrell, Jill Soloway, Jeffrey Tambor, and her six-year-old daughter. In this issue, Hahn describes the smell of too much comedic gas (sweaty), the role childhood plays in art (crucial), and how Catholicism screws up everything (we’re officially going to hell now). All, while proving that the best conversations happen with guests who bring two mugs to an interview.
Kathryn Hahn swears she is horrible at selling herself, but these days, Hollywood sure seems to be buying. With film and TV roles multiplying in both quantity and scope, she’s proven herself among the most versatile, funny and increasingly acclaimed actors working today. That has to give you some confidence, right? Well, maybe. It’s taken Hahn a minute to find and own herself and her talent, and she says she’s still figuring it out; but at this point, she’s wise enough to know what she values not only in the projects she takes on, but in life. As well she should–given the opportunities she’s had to work with and learn from some of the best, including Will Ferrell, Jill Soloway, Jeffrey Tambor, and her six-year-old daughter. In this issue, Hahn describes the smell of too much comedic gas (sweaty), the role childhood plays in art (crucial), and how Catholicism screws up everything (we’re officially going to hell now). All, while proving that the best conversations happen with guests who bring two mugs to an interview.
