Rashida Jones’ revenge fantasies are working out better than she expected. A serious student who spent a lot of time feeling lonely and somewhat geeky, her biggest ambition beyond Harvard Law School was to be liked, which makes acting a funny choice of profession. Sure enough, Hollywood doled out rejection with its usual generosity, unable to figure out where she fit in. The Office and Parks and Recreation got it partly right, snatching her back from brink of quitting acting, but she finally realized the best way to show the industry what she was made of and ensure it couldn’t keep saying no to her was to create her own opportunities. Writing and starring in the critically acclaimed Celeste and Jesse Forever resulted in the development of her confidence and unique voice – and in more projects than it seems possible for any one person to undertake. If revenge is sweet, it’s also incredibly busy. Jones talks to Off Camera about her relationship with her iconic parents, her uncertain transition from academia to acting, scripting Toy Story 4, regulation in the post-digital porn industry, and her ball- and apartment-busting lead in the upcoming Angie Tribeca. The most surprising thing you’ll learn in this interview is how much you didn’t know about Rashida Jones; and the more you know, the more you’ll want to see from her – we guarantee it. Join us for a wide-ranging and inspiring conversation, in which the roles of both host and esteemed guest will be played by finger puppets.
Did you know Chris Moore is the producer behind Good Will Hunting, The Adjustment Bureau, American Pie, Project Greenlight, and Promised Land? Well, he thinks you should – for your own good as a consumer of media, and probably for the future of the business at large. His passion for telling great stories drove his switch from successful agent to independent producer, and now fuels his efforts to get those stories to an increasingly fragmented audience with too many places and too little guidance to find the entertainment they like. The consummate storyteller-salesman pulls back the curtain on how projects get made, walking the fine line between the business and creative sides of filmmaking, how good movies go haywire and The Chair – probably the best play-along Hollywood parlor game on TV. Long on ideas and even longer on opinions, the iconoclast believes producers should be brands, independent films need evangelists, studios need loyalty programs and oh yeah, Last Action Hero needs a re-make. We know a man for the job. How do ya like them apples, Sony?
Did you know Chris Moore is the producer behind Good Will Hunting, The Adjustment Bureau, American Pie, Project Greenlight, and Promised Land? Well, he thinks you should – for your own good as a consumer of media, and probably for the future of the business at large. His passion for telling great stories drove his switch from successful agent to independent producer, and now fuels his efforts to get those stories to an increasingly fragmented audience with too many places and too little guidance to find the entertainment they like. The consummate storyteller-salesman pulls back the curtain on how projects get made, walking the fine line between the business and creative sides of filmmaking, how good movies go haywire and The Chair – probably the best play-along Hollywood parlor game on TV. Long on ideas and even longer on opinions, the iconoclast believes producers should be brands, independent films need evangelists, studios need loyalty programs and oh yeah, Last Action Hero needs a re-make. We know a man for the job. How do ya like them apples, Sony?
Did you know Chris Moore is the producer behind Good Will Hunting, The Adjustment Bureau, American Pie, Project Greenlight, and Promised Land? Well, he thinks you should – for your own good as a consumer of media, and probably for the future of the business at large. His passion for telling great stories drove his switch from successful agent to independent producer, and now fuels his efforts to get those stories to an increasingly fragmented audience with too many places and too little guidance to find the entertainment they like. The consummate storyteller-salesman pulls back the curtain on how projects get made, walking the fine line between the business and creative sides of filmmaking, how good movies go haywire and The Chair – probably the best play-along Hollywood parlor game on TV. Long on ideas and even longer on opinions, the iconoclast believes producers should be brands, independent films need evangelists, studios need loyalty programs and oh yeah, Last Action Hero needs a re-make. We know a man for the job. How do ya like them apples, Sony?
Lizzy Caplan got her start in acting as Girl Number One on Freaks and Geeks, the coolest show on TV at the time (she worked very hard on her one line, thank you). It seemed to set the stage for a career-long variation on a theme of tough, quirky sidekicks in comic films and TV shows like Mean Girls, Smallville, The Pitts and Related. But actors with the right combination of perseverance, genuine talent, and some measure of karma, find the role they were meant to have. On Masters of Sex, Caplan brings Virginia Johnson to life in such a human, relevant way, she reminds us that the questions of gender, sex and feminism that so intrigued Johnson in the 50s are largely ones we’re still working on today. Caplan talks to Off Camera about her early career struggles, the choices faced by working mothers, and the job that after three seasons still inspires and scares crap out of her. She’s gotten comfortable with unconventional sex scenes and doing her own singing on the show; vulnerability, she’s still working on. Fascinating stuff, but at the end of the interview all our host really wants to know is whether Caplan likes him, even just a little bit?
Lizzy Caplan got her start in acting as Girl Number One on Freaks and Geeks, the coolest show on TV at the time (she worked very hard on her one line, thank you). It seemed to set the stage for a career-long variation on a theme of tough, quirky sidekicks in comic films and TV shows like Mean Girls, Smallville, The Pitts and Related. But actors with the right combination of perseverance, genuine talent, and some measure of karma, find the role they were meant to have. On Masters of Sex, Caplan brings Virginia Johnson to life in such a human, relevant way, she reminds us that the questions of gender, sex and feminism that so intrigued Johnson in the 50s are largely ones we’re still working on today. Caplan talks to Off Camera about her early career struggles, the choices faced by working mothers, and the job that after three seasons still inspires and scares crap out of her. She’s gotten comfortable with unconventional sex scenes and doing her own singing on the show; vulnerability, she’s still working on. Fascinating stuff, but at the end of the interview all our host really wants to know is whether Caplan likes him, even just a little bit?
When he set out to make Wish I Was Here, Zach Braff traded the watchful supervisory eyeballs of a studio for the virtual eyeballs of 47,000 investors when he turned to Kickstarter to finance it, offering them unprecedented participation in the process. He gained support in record time and then lost it just as quickly in a deluge of criticism about both his fundraising and the film itself. While more people probably read about the kerfuffle than saw the film itself, he raised a relevant –if unintended – conversation about the potential of the Internet and social media to change the current model of making and releasing films. Zach and Sam talk it all out – creative versus commercial success, family dynamics on and off screen, and the risks and rewards of pursuing one’s artistic vision. Also in this issue: A long-overdue examination of tombstone aesthetics and the bar mitzvah we’d have given anything to attend.
When he set out to make Wish I Was Here, Zach Braff traded the watchful supervisory eyeballs of a studio for the virtual eyeballs of 47,000 investors when he turned to Kickstarter to finance it, offering them unprecedented participation in the process. He gained support in record time and then lost it just as quickly in a deluge of criticism about both his fundraising and the film itself. While more people probably read about the kerfuffle than saw the film itself, he raised a relevant –if unintended – conversation about the potential of the Internet and social media to change the current model of making and releasing films. Zach and Sam talk it all out – creative versus commercial success, family dynamics on and off screen, and the risks and rewards of pursuing one’s artistic vision. Also in this issue: A long-overdue examination of tombstone aesthetics and the bar mitzvah we’d have given anything to attend.
