Lena: As a teenager, I had a whole idea of what my life would look like. I wanted to live in Brooklyn. I wanted to have a dog. I wanted to have a cute boyfriend with glasses. But in college, I thought I was going to make weird movies, be a professor of women’s film at not that good of a college, and just have a cool, weird life where I met interesting people and organized events. I guess my model for a creative life was much more of an artist’s model and much less of a Hollywood model, if you will. So the past few years have been strange. I’m still navigating the difference between what’s happening now and what I thought my life would consist of.
Judd: You don’t seem like you’re shutting down emotionally from it all, though. I’m sure a lot of it is that you’re happy and in a happy relationship so you’re not fully exposed, and some part of you remains intact.
Lena: And I have a partner and a fun life and we are always working, so it feels like a safe place to be. But it definitely seems like this business gives people a weird chip on their shoulder: I feel defensive and everyone wants something from me. It can seem so corrosive and dark and divorced from reality. You’ve watched a lot of people get famous, so I’m sure you know what I mean.
Judd: I’ve seen people burn out and people lose touch with why they work. I’ve also seen people who satisfy so many of their dreams that they just become lost. That’s what Funny People was about: a guy who didn’t have any substantial relationships and who has all of his movie and comedy stardom dreams come true, and he is left with this feeling of emptiness. Because he never figured out that other part of it. In a way, that character is almost the reverse of you. His experience is the exact polar opposite of yours.
Lena: Something that strikes me about your work, every time I rewatch it, is that there’s a real morality to it, a sense that we’re all supposed to treat each other kindly. A sense that we’re all here to take care of each other and to serve a purpose in the world. There’s this real message of hope. I find it comforting.
Judd: But you also notice the repetition of that at some point. And so lately, I’ve been thinking of writing about sacrifice. I’ve never written anything about people who are willing to sacrifice for other people. We’ll see if I can pull it off, but I’m very aware that I’ve been writing in a certain vein for a while now, and that I could keep rewriting those ideas in a million different ways.
Lena: That’s why watching you reengage with stand-up is exciting. In a similar way, what writing the book did for me was allow me to—it’s not like I’m talking about experiences in the book that I haven’t talked about in the show. I’m talking about sex. I’m talking about growing up. I’m talking about being female. I’m talking about my body. I’m talking about my family. But now I get to talk about these things from this super-personal place. By reengaging with your stand-up at this point in your life, you’re getting to come at the topics that matter to you from a totally different angle.
Judd: Yeah, and switching modes forces you to really slow down and think things through. Because you go through life in a haze, staring at your phone and watching The Bachelor and being reasonably happy, but you never really break it down. You never stop to think about what’s going on in your mind and what you’re struggling with. Early on, someone said to me, “The greatest gift you can give is your story,” and that, for me, was the turning point. That became the premise of my work. That’s when I realized that maybe the things that I think are boring about myself are interesting to other people. Hearing what’s in your mind truly makes people feel less alone and gives them hope for things that they want to do and get through things that are difficult.
Lena: That’s the reason I make things. Some people make stuff because they want to provide escapist entertainment and blow up cars. Some people make stuff because they want to put out a message of social justice. For me, the seeds of what I do were planted by sitting in my room, reading confessional poetry, and listening to Alanis Morissette and thinking, I need to find a way to translate all these feelings, which are so like explosive inside of me, into something else. There are always people telling you that your experience doesn’t matter, that it’s navel gazing or unnecessary. “We don’t need to hear about twentysomething girls who feel like they’re ten pounds overweight. We don’t need to hear about forty-year-olds getting divorced.” But we do need to hear it, because that’s who so many people are! I mean, it can be the difference between someone feeling like they have a place in the world and someone feeling they don’t. I’m not saying we’re here to stop school shootings, but I am saying that art has a place in making people feel less alone—and that, to me, is what’s intoxicating about it.
Judd: What about your work as a director? What has surprised you about doing so much of it, and directing so many different actors?
Lena: I love it so much, and I came in thinking that my first two loves were writing and acting. Directing was the thing that I could take or leave, but now, after four years of doing the show, it’s like my fiendish obsession. I’ve had such a steep learning curve. Blocking, camera, lighting, and also getting to engage with all these actors, who approach it in a totally different way. I’m realizing how malleable you have to be and how open you have to be, if you want to meet an actor on their level. I’m eager to direct something that I’m not in. The next step in honing the craft would be totally removing myself as an actor so I can get super-focused on someone else’s performance, to really get in there with them.
Judd: What’s your relationship with Adam Driver like? Because, to me, in addition to building an incredible relationship with all the women on the show, you have stumbled into this magical pairing with this incredible actor. He’s truly headed toward world domination now, but, you know, it started with you and him together, and the work you guys did creating this bizarre, unique person, a character that I think is unprecedented on television. That relationship seems to keep morphing.
Lena: I love Adam so much, and I know for a fact that I didn’t know what I was doing as an actor until I met him and he forced me. I’m not saying I’m brilliant now, but he forced me to stop and take stock of what was happening when I was in a scene. He forced me to slow down and pay attention.
Judd: He’s so present.
Lena: He’s so present, he won’t let you do anything else. If he thinks you’re not present, he’ll fucking slam his fist into a wall to elicit some adrenaline reaction within you. I feel, in many ways, that Adam was my teacher and also that we worked together to figure out what those first scripts were. It was such a powerful relationship. There’s almost something mystical about it, when you meet someone who brings that out in you. I wouldn’t presume to say that I bring anything out in him, but I would say we figured out a groove together.
Judd: Do you think he connects to you in the same way, or is he having a different type of experience?
Lena: I don’t know. I only know what he’s thinking when we’re working. When we’re in a scene, I feel like I have a really good sense of what he needs and where he’s coming from. But when we’re just like eating lunch and having a conversation? I have no fucking idea.
Judd: You’ve had a similar relationship with the women of the show, and, you know, we talked before about how, in television shows sometimes, the cast gets crazy after a few years. At a certain point, everyone comes to dislike each other. But for you, it has evolved in such a positive way. I mean, you’ve known Jemima [Kirke] forever.