Off Camera with Sam Jones

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.

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.

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.

Keegan-Michael Key doesn't encourage people to make decisions out of fear, but it did work for him-at least for a while. Fear of being left behind and not accepted made him decide that making people laugh could come in handy some day. And fear of uncharted artistic territory resulted in a U-turn towards a career he never could've imagined for himself. Yet this is a guy who somehow found the confidence to turn down his second shot at Saturday Night Live-most sketch comics' very reason for existence. Now, as the lead in Don't Think Twice, he gets to flex new acting muscles, or perhaps better put, give the old ones a rest. Keegan's insights about nature versus nurture, code-switching, and decision-making are worth the read alone, but you'll be completely sucked in by his observations on the high-wire act that is improvisational comedy. It's a world we rarely get a good look inside of, and one that becomes more fascinating the more you explore it. To unravel its mysteries, you can go see Don't Think Twice, or read this issue. We hope you'll do both.

Though it's probably not what Shakespeare meant when he had Hamlet pondering "...the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune," it's a phrase that comes to mind in pondering the fortune of Krysten Ritter. For years, she's patiently taken every small, prescribed, and hard-fought step to acting-mall discovery, modeling, commercials, countless 'friend' roles and a couple of cancelled shows-before landing the lead in Marvel's Jessica Jones on Netflix, a role Rolling Stone called "...the sort of conflicted, damaged anti-heroine who's right in Ritter's sweet spot." Ritter didn't mind the journey, believing each step prepared her for the next. But nothing quite prepared her for Jessica Jones. With exponential opportunities, success (and minor injuries) came an outrageous new schedule, responsibility, and fame that she's still learning how to handle without throwing up or fainting dead away. But she'll take every arrow in the quiver if it means continuing to do what she loves. Ritter talks about her tough but formative adolescence, being at the forefront of an unprecedented new TV format, and why you might want to pick up a pack of Post-Its the next time you're at the store.

Though it's probably not what Shakespeare meant when he had Hamlet pondering "...the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune," it's a phrase that comes to mind in pondering the fortune of Krysten Ritter. For years, she's patiently taken every small, prescribed, and hard-fought step to acting-mall discovery, modeling, commercials, countless 'friend' roles and a couple of cancelled shows-before landing the lead in Marvel's Jessica Jones on Netflix, a role Rolling Stone called "...the sort of conflicted, damaged anti-heroine who's right in Ritter's sweet spot." Ritter didn't mind the journey, believing each step prepared her for the next. But nothing quite prepared her for Jessica Jones. With exponential opportunities, success (and minor injuries) came an outrageous new schedule, responsibility, and fame that she's still learning how to handle without throwing up or fainting dead away. But she'll take every arrow in the quiver if it means continuing to do what she loves. Ritter talks about her tough but formative adolescence, being at the forefront of an unprecedented new TV format, and why you might want to pick up a pack of Post-Its the next time you're at the store.

At least once, and hopefully many times, each of us has experienced the rush of being completely transported by a musical experience - one concert, one song, or even a single riff. For 15-year-old Dave Evans, Moment One was playing guitar (loudly) for his classmates in a high school auditorium with a band of three friends. One of those friends thought maybe the band could become as big as The Beatles. Evans' reaction? "Yeah, right." How U2 struggled out of Dublin's small music scene and actually became the world's biggest band is one of the best stories in rock, but even more amazing is how they've managed to stay that way for decades. Equally proud and humble about the journey, The Edge recounts it from the inside, sharing the origins of his iconic guitar sound, the unique songwriting process that both confounds and inspires him, and how the band chased - and then adjusted to - success. And, why success is never a good place to stop.

At least once, and hopefully many times, each of us has experienced the rush of being completely transported by a musical experience - one concert, one song, or even a single riff. For 15-year-old Dave Evans, Moment One was playing guitar (loudly) for his classmates in a high school auditorium with a band of three friends. One of those friends thought maybe the band could become as big as The Beatles. Evans' reaction? "Yeah, right." How U2 struggled out of Dublin's small music scene and actually became the world's biggest band is one of the best stories in rock, but even more amazing is how they've managed to stay that way for decades. Equally proud and humble about the journey, The Edge recounts it from the inside, sharing the origins of his iconic guitar sound, the unique songwriting process that both confounds and inspires him, and how the band chased - and then adjusted to - success. And, why success is never a good place to stop.