Off Camera with Sam Jones

Common is a man who is anything but, and he’s been evolving as an artist since the start of his three-decade-and-counting career when he was a young musician rapping about his love for hip-hop. These days, in addition to being a Grammy-winning artist, Common is an established actor, known for his work on AMC's Hell on Wheels and films like American Gangster, Selma, and Just Wright. Common is what you’d call a conscious artist—someone who uses his platform to encourage social and political change. He believes it’s the responsibility of an artist to say, “I see what you’re going through, and I’m going to stand up and use my voice, my talents, and my energy towards making your world better.” In his song “Black America Again,” he uses the power of music to show us the problems that arise from systemic racism and what we can do to resolve them. Despite his success, he's not living a life disassociated from the, er, common people. You might even catch him writing a new song in his car if you find yourself in traffic on the 405. Ultimately, Common is an artist who cherishes the opportunity to grow and evolve, so if he has it his way, he’ll be freestyling into his seventies. Common joins Off Camera to discuss the responsibility of an artist, the socio-economic underpinnings of hip-hop braggadocio, and why he loves to feel nervous when he’s starting a new project.

The talented and worldly Danai Gurira has been bridging the gap between disparate worlds ever since her family moved from Grinnell, IA to Africa when she was a toddler. In school, the self-described Zimerican (Zimbabwean-American) was the “African kid with a twangy American accent” who got along with everybody regardless of race and class. That ability to cross borders both artistic and geographic has defined Danai’s career. On the blockbuster side, Danai inhabits the character of Okoye in the highly anticipated Marvel film Black Panther and the character of Michonne, the butt-kicking zombie killer in AMC’s hit series The Walking Dead. On the literary side, she’s a playwright with Broadway success who mingles with the high-brow theatre crowd. But don’t get caught up in Western delineations between actor and writer because at her core, Danai is a storyteller—a woman who uses her unique perspective and artistic talent to reveal the shared humanity between seemingly different worlds of Africa and America. Danai points out that talent must be nurtured and distractions must be set aside because "the whole goal of storytelling is to became a worthy enough vessel for the story to come through you." Danai joins Sam Jones to discuss the nuanced world of Ryan Coogler's Black Panther, auditioning for The Walking Dead, overcoming grad school breakdowns, and discovering her artistic mandate.

As Pam Beesly on The Office, Jenna Fischer worked her way into the homes and hearts of Americans for nine seasons. As herself, Jenna charmed her way into the hearts and minds of the entire staff here at Off Camera with her endearing humility and self-deprecating nature. Born and bred in St. Louis, Missouri, Jenna grew up far away from Hollywood or New York City. But from the moment she took the stage as Toto (the dog) in The Wizard of Oz, she knew she wanted to be an actor—everything else be damned! There was only one problem: she had no idea how to engineer an acting career. Sure, you can go to acting school and learn how to act, but nobody tells you how to get an agent, how to deal with rejection, what's it's like to bomb in an audition, or how to navigate screen actors guild vouchers. With a little delusion (reinforced by some magical thinking by her mother: "If Oprah did it, so can you!") and a lot of perseverance, Jenna established herself as a working actor, but it certainly it didn't happen overnight. She struggled for eight long years as a starving artist before she got her big break as Pam Beesly on The Office. And although she had a nine season run on one of television's all-time most popular shows, Jenna still didn't take her career for granted, believing, "You're always one horrible performance away from not getting the next job." So what did Jenna do? She wrote the book that she so desperately needed in her formative years, The Actor's Life: A Survival Guide. And it is like no book about acting that has preceded it. It is filled with advice about the important minutia that actors need to survive, but more importantly, it is a handbook for survival, a testament to perseverance, and a hilarious accounting of her early years hustling jobs in Hollywood. And as an added bonus, it even teaches aspiring thespians how to deal with getting fired, which is exactly what happened to Jenna while she was writing the book. Jenna joins us to talk about that experience of getting fired, her undeniable chemistry with John Krasinski, sneaking into an SNL party to meet Molly Shannon, and dealing with self-judgment and social anxiety. In other words, required viewing for every struggling artist out there!

Diane Kruger is the prototypical international actor. She's trilingual and has a career that spans across the globe—from France to Germany to the United States. In America, she's known for roles such as Helen of Troy in the the big-budget, star-studded film Troy (2004) and her role in Quentin Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds (2009) as Bridget von Hammersmark, the glamorous German movie-star-turned-spy-for-the-Allies in Nazi Germany. Once dubbed to be "too beautiful for a role of substance" by The New York Times, Diane, a former model, is no stranger to criticism about her looks, but she's been proving that line of thought wrong over and over again. The most recent example of her pushing against people's expectations is her award-winning role in the German film In the Fade. It's a film that came at the right time for Kruger, who believes age and maturity have made her a better actor: "The older you get, the more life experience you have to bring to the table as an actor. You’ve experienced grief, heartbreak, real love, lust; you can have a more nuanced performance." Her role as Katja, a grief-stricken woman who brutally loses her husband and son to a neo-Nazi terrorist attack and must deal with the aftermath, is devastating and incredible. Kruger, who is in nearly every frame of the film, prepared meticulously for her role in order to bring a voice to survivors of terrorism who are often overlooked when the dust settles after a tragedy. It is a role that will not leave her, in a film that will not leave us. Diane joins Off Camera to discuss In the Fade, how she discovered acting, overcoming typecasting, and why she's hopeful that the culture in Hollywood is changing with the help of women and upstanding men navigating the journey together.

You may know Pete Holmes as the creator, writer, and star of the Judd Apatow-produced HBO series Crashing—the semi-autobiographical series about an aspiring standup comedian whose life turns upside-down when he discovers his wife cheating on him. As someone who wears his vulnerabilities on his sleeve, Holmes isn't phased by exposing his personal life to scrutiny: "It feels really good to make jokes, find the lighter side, and share some of the wisdom that comes through painful experiences by bringing them into a story." Holmes also hosts You Made It Weird, a podcast dedicated to having real conversations with fellow comedians. The fact that he can start with a question as basic as, "How was finding parking?" and reach something as complex and deep as "What is the meaning of life?" by the end, keeps him, and us, coming back for more. Holmes joins Off Camera to discuss what it's really like to get divorced, why a little delusion goes a long way in pursuing your dreams, why being vulnerable is the best way to connect to others, what we can learn from comedians, and why he'll never tire of having amazing conversations. As Holmes says, "I feel qualified to talk about Pete Holmes, because I'm Pete Holmes-ing the hell out of this Pete Holmes." We're glad we get to talk to an expert.

Step right up to the Neil Patrick Harris Show! He acts! He sings! He dances! He writes! He hosts! He magics! But the showman behind the curtain is… pretty much the guy you’ll meet here. And that’s okay – now. In the public eye since age 15 and saddled with an unshakeable teenage M.D. alter ego, he was unsure of who he was, and unable to stop worrying whether people thought whoever that might be was a jerk. He sought help in a forum most celebrities would do anything to avoid, but NPH likes challenges. And once he felt free to embrace them full-throttle, it opened up roles from über-bros to an East German rock star with something to teach him about self-acceptance. As it turns out, though, the kid who never wanted to dance in public is still a misfit. But now that kid’s a storyteller who’s out to convince us that’s the best possible thing you can be.

To many, John Doe and his L.A. band X represented music and fans that were scary and unknowable. To others, punk was poetry set to a visceral sound that connected way beyond words. Before we talk to one of the most influential poets of the punk movement, we offer some context from Kierkegaard: “What is a poet? An unhappy man who hides deep anguish in his heart, but whose lips are so formed that when the sigh and cry pass through them, it sounds like lovely music. And people flock around the poet and say: 'Sing again soon….the cry would only frighten us, but the music, that is blissful.” To blissful, add electrifying, defining, and the inspiration for a generation of kids, bands, artists, punks and future poets, all bound and determined to do things their own way.

If you have debilitating stage fright and dyslexia, good luck becoming an actor or a writer. Octavia Spencer had both, and became both, and luck was not involved. What was: A strong work ethic (thanks, mom), a love of mysteries (thanks, Ms. Bradford), and unshakeable faith in her own talent. She looked at what people told her she was, and saw something different. It took awhile for others to see it. The Help helped (thanks, Academy) – and in some ways, didn’t – same with Hidden Figures. Now she’s after roles that have nothing to do with her race, like next month’s The Shape of Water. She’s penned a book that turns “different” kids into superheroes who become strong by attempting what scares them. She should know. Early in her career, Spencer was told not to go to Hollywood, because “Hollywood is for the beautiful people.” If so, she’s right where she belongs.

Sam Rockwell will tell you it’s not good enough to be good in a movie, and it’s not good enough to be good in a good movie. You’ve got to be good in a good movie that people see. After years of being good in good movies that enjoyed most of their success in the afterlife, he’s hit the jackpot with this month’s buzz-generating Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri. As a cop who goes “from Barney Fife to Travis Bickle” before we know what’s hit us. Rockwell reminds us that “professional actor” is not an oxymoron – just a rarity. Given how often his performances teeter between loose and completely unhinged, the studious, technical approach behind them is surprising. Rockwell’s reverence for his craft and a generation of actors and films we may never see again signals a depth that still demands – and will doubtless reward – further exploration.

It’s been said that seeing ourselves clearly is the project of a lifetime. Coming from Michigan might be a shortcut. Jeff Daniels grew up in a small town playing basketball. Now he lives in a small town, playing guitar. In between, he played roles from The Squid and the Whale to Dumb and Dumber, creating a range he hoped would let him remain in his hometown both physically and spiritually. Daniels didn’t buy Hollywood, never saw himself as a star. He was just a good actor who could be finished at any moment. At this moment, he looks farther from finished than ever. He’s won an Emmy for The Newsroom and a bucket-list role on Godless. He’s also touring with his son’s band. Daniels talks about being a perennial outsider, the speech he waited 35 years to make and why being Springsteen in Oshkosh, WI is enough. He’s always known who he is and what he can do. Having others see it now means a lot. He’s lucky because it doesn’t mean everything.