Off Camera with Sam Jones

Like a lot of superpowers, the chip on Mike Colter's shoulder isn't visible, but it's there when he needs it. Cursed with a stable home and supportive parents, he often manufactured his own chips to keep himself motivated as an actor (which he planned on being from the age of eight). But later, the chips got real: Acting teachers who told him he wouldn't make it. Years of broke-ass struggle pursuing his art. Agents who said he could only play one kind of role. Well, throw obstacles at a guy like Colter and he'll thank you for them - before smashing them to pieces. He's at a point now where he could be kicking back and enjoying the ability to pay for groceries, but he has something else to prove: If you think you know who Luke Cage is, you don't. We'd add that if you think you've seen everything this actor can do, you haven't. Not by a long shot.

One of the most joyful and rewarding experiences we can have as humans is the discovery of something we passionately love to do-- and even better, the discovery that we're really good at it. For Thandie Newton, that revelation came as a naïve 16-year-old on her first film set. It also came with a horrific experience of abuse. Unfortunately, and incredibly, it was not the last one dealt her by the business she loved. So she had a choice. Be a victim, or do something about it. Newton fought hard for herself, and then seemingly couldn't stop. As she's achieved success, she's used her position to champion women and children not only in her industry, but throughout the world. It wasn't easy finding her voice, but now that she has, look out. Here, she uses it in one of our most wide-ranging, honest and inspiring conversations yet.

Mark Duplass says that early on, he and his brother Jay wanted to be the Coen brothers. After 10 painful years of failure and self-doubt, he realized they were much better off being the Duplass brothers. Sticking to their shared gut got them promoted to Hollywood, where Mark found that success came with too many strings-and meetings-attached. That's when his creative genius (he calls it "fear of making a bad movie") turned to the business itself. What emerged was a model for making films exactly the way he wants to, while earning enough to keep making them. As they say, if you want something done right (not to mention better, faster, and cheaper) do it yourself. Could he be any happier? Yeah, probably- if we stuck him in a grimy old 110-degree shed with a drum kit and a Walkman.

You might not have recognized Ewan McGregor in his very first stage role, since he was in blackface and a turban, but it likely thrilled him as much as any role he has embodied since. The chance to do anything on a stage in front of people-even if it was just moving a chair-was magical. Some (okay, most) would say dropping out of school at 16 with no prospects or training to pursue acting was a risk. But audiences worldwide witnessed the payoff as he quickly became one of the most successful and versatile actors around, happy and creatively fulfilled. Except for the one story he wanted so badly to tell that he gambled again-this time as a director. If it meant a Scotsman taking on the greatest living American writer, well, where there's no risk, there's usually no magic. And for McGregor, where there's no magic, there's usually no point.

Nick Offerman will never, ever, have enough time. But then, he's not much inclined to put his feet up. Like most creatively restless artists, his interests abound. But for Offerman, they're not hobbies; they'e disciplines to be studied, mastered and revered for the values they represent. Juggling it all requires defining your priorities and being clear on who you are. Parks and Recreation's comedic secret weapon has built a career, canoes, and a soapbox for sharing lessons so simple we seem to have forgotten them. He joins us to talk about writing, ranting and why he loves his new film The Founder, despite having called its subjects "purveyors of the McShit Sandwich." He also shares why he won't be playing Ron Swanson knockoffs for the next 10 years. That's fine with us, as long as he keeps playing Nick Offerman. You read on for an inspiring, thought-provoking conversation; we're going to go build some birdhouses.

There are a few things people forgot to tell young Kate Beckinsale about being an actor: Not every film experience is Much Ado About Nothing; most minors working in foreign countries have chaperones; and, don a pair of rubber trousers at your own risk. Oh well, you learn. And keep learning, if you view yourself as a life-long artistic apprentice. Beckinsale talks to us about the impact of sudden family loss on her life and career, why she chose Russian and French over drama school, and what made her decide to come to the U.S. when things were going just fine in the U.K. She also shares lessons learned (through both tears and laughs) on films as diverse as Emma, Underworld, Nothing But the Truth and Love & Friendship. Beckinsale's path was never conventional and rarely easy, which seems to be exactly how she wants it. It also makes her one of the most intriguing actors-make that people-we know.

Ever since banging out plays on her mom's typewriter at age six, Mindy Kaling wanted to be a comedy writer. That line of study wasn't on offer at her college, but Dartmouth taught her at least two things: If you hole up in your dorm and deconstruct Woody Allen films, you discover what works. And, in a town where there's nothing to do but drink and sled, almost any crazy play you writer can pack a theater. It can also launch your Hollywood dream career quicker than you ever imagined. But when the first show that hires you is getting creamed, and someone else is cast in the pilot you wrote for you, about you, and named after you, well, that's when you see what you're really made of. Here, Kaling plays herself in a conversation about that first fateful play, race and gender in comedy, and why it's totally cool to love your parents.

It's a funny thing, how we're taught from a young age to wait for permission-to be excused, to have a cookie, even to pursue a dream. But what if there's no one around to grant it? Early on, Vince Vaughn decided not to ask for permission to skip school for auditions, to talk to the ladies, or to move to L.A. to be an actor. That just-do-it approach worked well for creating his breakout in Swingers, and his hilarious turns in films like Old School and Wedding Crashers. Vaughn joined us to share the stories behind some of his most iconic films, his decision to take on more dramatic roles in True Detective and Hacksaw Ridge, and the importance of challenging what you know-especially when you're already pretty damn successful. When you combine a well-documented gift for gab with a philosopher's spirit, this is the conversation you get. Enjoy, and take some notes.

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.