Month: April 2022

AUGUSTA, Ga. – Attending the Masters is a lot like riding through a Cook-Out drive-thru in a Maybach. The whole time you’re in it, you’re aware that something feels off, that you’ll be found out, that there’s a bit of absurdity to the contrast. And yet, it’s that ultimate combination of highbrow and lowbrow that speaks to the entire Masters world, one that has one-percenters standing hours in line for a lawn gnome, gobbling $1.50 white bread and cheese sandwiches, stacking logoed plastic cups to the sky, and putting their business cards in collapsable (yes, still branded) chairs.

To try and explain the Masters at all is daunting. It’s why ESPN still has Wright Thompson dedicating time to vignettes about the sights, sounds, and experience. It’s why CBS makes the entire week a showpiece, moving heaven and earth so Jim Nantz is there, even as he flies straight from the NCAA men’s basketball National Championship. And it’s why pieces like this continue to exist, year in and year out, as first-timers look for ways to capture what they saw both to justify their own existence and because on some level there’s a fierce need to be believed, to prove what you saw was real.

The no-phone rule alone is staggering. If you want to see the action, you have to walk the course. Hospitality Cabins – of which there really aren’t many – aren’t set within view of any particular hole, so CEOs, pop superstars, former NBA players, actors, and yes, even Nick Saban, have to trudge up the hilly terrain and find their vantage points. And with no phones, there’s less of a need to pry or gawk; conversations evolve naturally, and there’s a surreal feeling as you see the same people over and over in an untethered, dream-like serendipitous state that is as carefully crafted as anything else in the Masters mythology.

Everything on the course is a whisper. If you don’t see it happen yourself, you get dispatches from whoever tells the story. An almost hole-in-one; a meltdown on the third hole; a five-putt on 16; the best approach shot you’ll ever see, trust me. The panoramic roars are addicting and infuriating. You want more of them. But not knowing what led to them is its own cosmic joke. At some point, you surrender yourself to the magnolias and the pine straw, to the insanely helpful workers, to the manufactured charm and elegance, and tell yourself you’re part of it. You belong too. Of course, even that is its own myth.

That thrill alone is what keeps people coming back. Many folks admit to it being their eighth or ninth or twentieth Masters. How they got there is its own story. They won the lottery, or their golf coach is a member, or their boss decided to take them. They each have their own tricks and tips to the course, to the concessions, to the pro shop, to parking. And they make mention of how things used to be (dangling their feet in the water on 16), or how they’re the same as they always were.

All that wouldn’t matter if the product wasn’t captivating. The Masters perennially delivers drama and brings out the best in players. Bernhard Langer won the Masters in 1985 and 1993 and celebrated the 40th anniversary of his first time playing at Augusta National by still being in this year’s field. He’s in awe of how it has continued to evolve for players and spectators alike while retaining the attention to detail that has been its calling card for almost 90 years.

“My first time seeing the golf course was a real eye-opener,” Langer told Uproxx. “I had never seen anything like it coming from Europe, and especially from Germany. Our greens were slow and somewhat bumpy. The fairways looked more like semi-rough at times and things like that. And to come here and driving in Magnolia Lane, see the Clubhouse, see the manicured golf course and then putt these greens that are so hilly and undulated and maybe 15 on the stimpmeter [green speed reader], but we’ll never know because they don’t tell us. It’s the only tournament in the world that doesn’t tell us how fast the greens are. Anyway, I had never experienced anything like it or seen anything like it. And I immediately fell in love just with the course and with the opportunity and the challenge to play such a pristine golf course. There wasn’t one blade of grass that seemed to be out of order.”

Langer notes that the course has always changed — not just to “Tiger-proof” it — over the years. But not everything needs changing. Even he makes mention of how great a deal for spectators it is (assuming of course you can find a ticket) once you let go and give yourself to the weekend.

“They do a phenomenal job for the patrons,” Langer adds. “The spectators, when they come here, they get free parking. The food they buy on the course is very cheap compared to any other sporting event of this magnitude, and so are the drinks. They’re really trying to make it a great experience for the people who come here and watch some of the best golfers in the world compete. And I think that’s very unique. I mean, they could charge $10 for a sandwich and $5 for a Coke or water but they don’t. People would pay it because you have a captive audience, like in any other sporting event, but they choose not to. And that’s a wonderful thing.”

Augusta National can afford to keep prices low because of the demand; it’s part of the experience, after all. And the course will do anything to protect that experience, short of buying every house in Augusta. They carefully choose their partners — IBM, AT&T, and Mercedes are all involved in some capacity, but there aren’t brand logos all over everything as you’ll see at just about every other sporting event in America. The Masters logo takes precedence over all else. The partners are more than okay with that.

Mercedes takes a cue from that attention to detail as a throughline for their entire experience (of which I was invited to take part). Guests remarked that even if they’d been to the Masters before in a variety of ways, this was different. The group I was with had access to rented furnished houses a few miles outside Augusta, along with entertainment and food throughout the weekend, any number of luxury vehicles to drive, and shuttle service to the course right down Magnolia Lane. For Mercedes, the 15 years of association with the tournament is a no-brainer, and they’re bringing some of their insights and technology to help modernize the experience, including utilizing electric cars like the EQS to shuttle players and installing electric chargers in parking areas. Their stated goal is to be fully electric by 2030.

The Masters still has a long way to go in hopes of ultimately using its powers for good. Its history isn’t without its blemishes (as Bomani Jones remarked on his HBO show Game Theory), and recent moves like forming a Women’s Amateur are only a start. The most impactful way Augusta National could enact change is locally, in its own backyard. The downtown area is being revitalized through local restauranteurs and business owners, but service workers admit Augusta National is often nowhere to be found.

Augusta, like any city with an industrial past, has a wide disparity in economic prosperity depending on zip code (23.2 percent of the city is below the poverty line as of the 2020 census), the familiar look of hollowed-out buildings along the river (from the city’s past in textiles and ironworks), and its own ugly history of redlining (a history of prejudice in home loans that led to further segregation in America, written in detail in Richard Rothstein’s The Color of Law).

Even on Masters weekend, there’s a sense that there are Two Americas, and Augusta National continuing to buy up all the modest ranch homes along the perimeter isn’t exactly helping. But what’s happened has already happened; what hasn’t happened yet is still a potential outcome. A commitment to infrastructure, education, and sustainability would be a start. As in all community projects, it isn’t about throwing money at the problem, but instead working on root causes and identifying individual inflection points to address with community leaders and residents, from affordable housing to after-school programs.

The Enterprise Mill project is one to look to as a hybrid solution, honoring the city’s heritage through a discovery center, as well as providing event space, offices, and housing. The Frog Hollow restaurant group has focused extensively on Broad St., and on transforming what it means to work, live, and play downtown. No solution is instantaneous; but if Augusta National and its partners committed not only resources but also its members’ and advisors’ considerable know-how and network to the region, there’s no telling how much of an effect it could have long-term.

That would only add to the legend of the Masters, and could yet be its most impactful legacy. The event already makes anyone who attends feel special, and that energy is infectious – if not outright powerful. Everyone should get the chance to feel that way.

“Not once in my life has anyone ever gone, well it was alright,” ESPN’s Scott Van Pelt said during a panel discussion on Saturday about attending the Masters. “I don’t know if I’ve been anywhere that makes people feel the way they feel [here.] It’s almost spiritual in a way.”

Uproxx Sports was invited on a hosted trip through Mercedes for reporting on this piece. However, Mercedes did not review or approve this story in any way. You can find out more about our policy on press trips/hostings here.

Girl In Red became a viral sensation through vulnerable, lo-fi songs about love and heartbreak, like with “I Wanna Be Your Girlfriend” and “We Fell In Love In October.” Her debut album If I Could Make It Go Quiet, though, watched her shift gears into a full-fledged, upbeat pop sound propped up by rich production with the help of Finneas. She also went from crooning to almost rapping, in a Billie Eilish, speak-singing kind of way. This can be heard on “Serotonin,” which she brought to Jimmy Kimmel Live! last night.

Her performance of “Serotonin” retains her simultaneous sass and stress; there’s no shortage of intensity, when she breaks into an anxiety-filled flow: “I get intrusive thoughts / like cutting my hands off / like jumping in front of a bus.” Despite the dark nature of the lyrics, she skips around the stage with charm in an oversized hoodie.

About this song, she told Uproxx: “For that song particularly, I wrote it and I was like, ‘Wow, I had a lot of stuff I had to get out…’ So many people have their own perception of what it’s like dealing with different things. I’ve definitely had the thought of people not validating my experiences, or people not seeing this experience as something that’s song-worthy or whatever.”

Watch her performance of “Serotonin” above.

The Charlotte Hornets will enter the NBA’s coaching carousel. According to Adrian Wojnarowski of ESPN, the Hornets have made the decision to fire head coach James Borrego, who has been at the helm of the franchise since 2018.

Despite the fact that the team went 43-39 this season — its third year in a row under which its record has improved under Borrego and the first time since 2015-16 the team has finished with an above-.500 record — Wojnarowski notes that the team’s performance in the play-in tournament each of the last two years could have been responsible for his dismissal. The Hornets lost by 28 to the Indiana Pacers in the play-in last year before falling to the Atlanta Hawks by 29 earlier this month.

A member of the Gregg Popovich coaching tree, Borrego went 138-163 in four years as the head coach of the Hornets. He had previously had one head coaching job during his career, as he spent 30 games as the interim head coach for the Orlando Magic in 2015.

Whomever takes over in Charlotte will inherit a team with gobs of young talent, particularly All-Star guard LaMelo Ball and Miles Bridges, who took a gigantic step forward this past season and is slated for a huge payday in restricted free agency.

When Jeff Bell and Nic Adler came up with their initial concept for a tropical speakeasy at Coachella, they knew it would be fun. They probably never expected it to become one of the most talked-about attractions at the festival for four years running.

Bell and Adler first combined superpowers at Panorama Festival in New York, where they’d created a speakeasy bar much like the East Village’s legendary hole-in-the-wall, PDT Tropicale, which Bell runs in New York City. As Goldenvoice’s director of food and beverage, Adler enhanced the experience by bringing in props, décor, and more visual elements. Most of all, he ensured the place would provide a reprieve from the famously intense Coachella sun. As word got out about the atmosphere and their signature chilled cocktails, the buzz surrounding the pop-up kept spreading.

“We didn’t want to make it exclusive, to where people could read about it but not be able to get in. We wanted it to be something where everybody could go,” Bell explains.

Yet the key to a true “speakeasy” and the oasis’ charm, according to Bell, was keeping it a secret. Or, at least, not advertising it. As a result, no information was published about it on the Coachella website, email newsletter, or in the guide. In other words, the only way to know about it was through word of mouth.

“What’ll happen every year of the festival is, the first Friday is kind of slow, which is fine for us,” Says Bell. “By day two, people start finding it. Then the Goldenvoice executives come by, and some of the super VIPs and artists they know find out about it so they’ll come by. Then those people tell people and those people tell people. By day three, it’s crazy. The second weekend is bonkers.”

Those who’ve found the tropical speakeasy in the past will be surprised to find it in a new location this year. It’s still hidden in plain sight, but this year it’ll be placed near the Palapa check-in, sandwiched between the Mojave and Gobi stages. Those who visit it early will beat the crowds that will inevitably form later in the weekend.

They’ll also be the first to try drinks like the Tropitonic, a daytime refresher with guava, tonic and citrus. For those who want to drink but not get drunk, Life’s a Garden is a swanky non-alcoholic drink akin to a gin and tonic. For an afternoon kick, there’s the Peptalk, which is like a savory Paloma but with red bell peppers. This year, Bell is also unveiling a drink called The Greenlight, packing Absolut Vodka, fresh pressed grapes, apple juice, and mint. And that’s just a few of the drinks on the menu.

“We make great drinks, but it’s the whole experience that puts the excitement on peoples faces when they walk in,” says Bell. “It’s just like PDT in New York: we want to be one of the things people talk about when they leave. If we can be something that people remember, like when people come to Coachella to see Billie Eilish, or some big mega star, we want them to be able to say the music was great and this food thing was great – oh yeah, and we found this secret bar!”

If you grew up in the late ’80s or early ’90s you probably remember all the talk of the ozone layer deteriorating. We traded our Aqua Net cans for the pump hair spray that often left our hair more damp and floppy, than the beautifully coifed waterfall bang teased to the heavens that we were actually going for. We yelled at our parents for not cutting up their plastic six-pack rings because of the sea turtles and their survival. Suddenly, news of the environment and earth’s impending doom was constantly on the news and sneaked into our television shows on Nickelodeon and commercials on MTV. We heard about oil spills and animal extinction, and we were rightfully cautious and outraged.

Today, we still cut our plastic rings before discarding them and opt for the pump sprayer over the aerosol can. We didn’t know then that we were young activists, we only knew we wanted to be good stewards of the planet we inhabited and we were going to drag our parents along with us. The fight for climate change and maintaining a healthy Earth didn’t end in the ’90s. It’s something people are now more intentional about and are working to raise their children in a way that helps to prolong the life of the planet we call home. That’s why I connected with climate activist Shannon Brescher Shea, author of Growing Sustainable Together: Practical resources for raising kind, engaged and resilient children.

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I wanted to know what brought Shannon into climate activism, and how people can involve their children in making a lasting impact on the earth. Shannon was full of insights and ways parents can make small changes to their daily lives and ways they can get involved on a larger scale, joining a growing number of climate and sustainability activists.

Shannon said her activist origin story started in the summer of third grade where she learned about manatees and how they became endangered due to being hit by boats. This prompted her to talk with her class about adopting a manatee. “That was my first, very specific thing I remember falling in love with, and then also wanting to take action at the same time.” After adopting a manatee in third grade, Shannon fell in love with nature and animals, and as she got older, she says, “I came to understand the human impact and how humans and nature are not separate things. What humans do affects nature, but also it affects everybody else too.”

Incorporating the passion she developed as a child into her own parenting and current climate activism is what prompted Shannon to write a parenting book on sustainability. When talking about the importance of incorporating the changes in her book with your own family, the climate activist says, “If we fully embrace these, yes, they can be big changes in our lives and sometimes changes that are kind of radical, but they can also lead to much better quality of life and have it help us have more fulfilled, healthy, and not just physically healthy, but emotionally and mentally healthy parts of life.”

Shannon talks about some children experiencing climate anxiety, which she describes as “this feeling that like climate change is happening and there’s nothing I can do. And the adults are old school. And they betrayed us. They’ve handed us this future that we can’t do anything about.” According to Shannon, there is something we can do about it and it’s something the whole family can be involved in. She says small changes can make a big difference, such as choosing to bike to school or using public transportation to get to work, which reduces your contribution to pollution and also encourages other people to consider following suit.

The important thing to remember, says Shannon, is to not stop at the small things. Composting is a great way to produce less waste, but getting involved in local cleanups of streams and advocating for bicycle lanes are tangible things you can do with your family that make a difference for the environment and the community as a whole. Involve children in climate activism, she says, and “just keep kind of expanding these conversations outward and outward, using very practical, concrete experiences that the kids are having, you can have that much more of an impact and help them think about how you have that ripple effect. Not to cause guilt or to shame, but to show how we’re all connected and how things we do affect other people.”

Climate change continues to occur, and living a sustainable lifestyle can help combat some of the effects humans have on the climate. More and more young people are joining the fight against climate change and families like Shannon’s are helping to make a difference. If you’re unsure on where to start with living a sustainable lifestyle with your family, you can grab Shannon’s book, Growing Sustainable Together, for ideas on how to get started.

Another Will Smith project at Netflix has bit the dust, but this time around, his now-infamous Oscars slap might not be the culprit. According to Bloomberg reporter Lucas Shaw, the streaming giant has “abandoned plans” to make Bright 2, which would’ve seen Smith return to the world of the 2017 Netflix original that dealt with human cops being forced to interact with elves, orcs, and fairies. However, as Shaw notes, Smith assaulting Chris Rock at the Oscars is “unrelated” to Netflix pulling the plug on the Bright sequel.

Shortly after the Oscars incident, Netflix “quietly” moved production of the Smith movie Fast and Loose to the “back burner” in what was seen as a reaction to the headline dominating fiasco. However, Deadpool 2 director David Leitch had reportedly withdrew from the the project a week before The Slap, so it’s difficult to say if Smith smacking Rock played a hand in Netflix pausing development.

For further context to Netflix now abandoning a second Smith project, the streaming company has been in a state of turmoil this week after it reported losing over 200,000 subscribers during the first quarter of 2022, which caused stock prices to fall and at least one of its biggest investors to dump $1.1 billion in shares. There were also reports that Netflix is dropping an astronomical $30 million per episode on Stranger Things 4. All of this raises fair questions about whether or not Netflix is truly concerned about working with Smith or if it simply found a convenient scapegoat to rein in its spending.

(Via Lucas Shaw on Twitter)

Earlier this week, Pooh Shiesty (real name Lontrell Donell Williams Jr.) learned what he’s going to be up to for the next few years: He was sentenced to a bit over five years (63 months, to be exact) in prison over firearms charges. Now, in his first social media post since the sentencing, the rapper has shared a message for his fans.

Yesterday, Shiesty’s Instagram account shared a screenshot of an email from himself which reads, “The biggest.. I just wanna thank all my love ones. Supporters. And fans for holding me down during these hard times. I wish I could be comingg home to yall today but this couldve been wayyyy worse, I will be back sooner than yall think ! But meantime new music dropping next week, blrrrd!!!”

Shiesty’s tone sounds optimistic, which is understandable given that he’s correct when it comes to this situation turning out far better than it could have: His sentence follows a plea deal that allowed him to avoid a potential life sentence.

Meanwhile, Shiesty is coming off a big 2021, when “Back In Blood” was such a success that it was YouTube’s top-trending music video of the year.

Pooh Shiesty is a Warner Music artist. Uproxx is an independent subsidiary of Warner Music Group.

Everything Everywhere All At Once is one of the most acclaimed films of the year, but quality doesn’t always equal financial success. Look no further than two of 2021’s best (and horniest) movies, Titane and Bendetta, which combined to make less than $10 million at the box office. But to the delight of independent theaters (and people who are sick of IP) everywhere, Everything Everywhere All At Once, the Daniels’ multiverse mind-bender starring Michelle Yeoh and Ke Huy Quan, is a breakout hit.

Deadline reports that it crossed the $20 million mark this week. That’s very good for an indie. As one arthouse theater manager put it, “It’s like Batman.”

Everything Everywhere All at Once, after a wildly explosive and well-received world premiere as SXSW’s opener, debuted March 25 in 10 theaters to $501K for a $50K per-theater average, ranking as the best limited debut and theater average to date in 2022, and the second-best theater average of the pandemic for a limited release after MGM/UAR’s Licorice Pizza ($86,2K). The domestic gross of Everything Everywhere All at Once already has surpassed Paul Thomas Anderson’s Best Picture Oscar-nominated Licorice Pizza ($17.3 million) and another notable pandemic arthouse release, Wes Anderson’s The French Dispatch ($16.1 million).

Everything Everywhere All At Once is on pace to become A24‘s fourth highest-grossing movie at the domestic box office ever, after Uncut Gems ($50 million), Lady Bird ($49 million) and Hereditary ($44 million). It’s currently slightly behind Moonlight and Midsommar ($27 million) and The Witch and Ex Machina ($25 million). Everything won’t be the biggest multi-verse movie of 2022 — but it will likely be the best.

(Via Deadline)

A few days ago, Big Thief‘s Adrianne Lenker took to Instagram to discuss people who talk during opening acts at shows. “There is a real magic that happens when there is a floor of actual silence when somebody is playing or performing,” she said. “Sometimes I have this feeling like, if only the room were quiet, this could just be so incredible. People are missing so much, because every time there’s meant to be a silence, there’s all this sort of white noise chatter.”

This post quickly gained traction and sparked conversation. Indie star Indigo De Souza, who unveiled Any Shape You Take last year, shared an Instagram post that, given the timing, seems related to Lenker’s post, although it doesn’t mention Lenker or Big Thief directly. The third slide of the post starts, “It makes me so deeply sad when the audience talks over the opening bands — it puts me in a weird headspace and makes it harder to connect with the audience when I go on stage,” she wrote. In the next paragraph, she mentioned her desire for fans to wear masks, another pressing issue for current touring bands.

Country favorite Jason Isbell responded to the slew of articles about Lenker’s statement, writing, “audiences talk at Austin shows too. I’ve found they talk almost everywhere- unless they are crying. Hard to talk when you are crying.”

Julianna Barkwick also offered a simple response in the comments of Lenker’s post, writing, “yes,” alongside a raised hands emoji.

I have no idea where Barry is going in season three (which returns Sunday at 10pm EST on HBO), no clue as to how any of this ends. This is meant to be a supreme compliment because we so often do have an inkling where things are going even with the very best television shows. Which is fine. Predictability isn’t always a sin if the execution is amazing. But when you’ve got a great story and amazing characters feeding off of writing that is complex, human, funny, scary, and sad, and visuals that are unique and interesting, all with the added benefit of being an overall unpredictable thing from creators you know you can trust to amaze while also crushing the execution? Wow. And that’s where we find ourselves with Barry in season three, a total package that doesn’t feel like it missed a beat or the chance to build on an already impressive legacy after three years away. A show that takes chances to tell a better story and be more entertaining… for us and for the people that create it.

When we had the chance to talk with series creator/director/star Bill Hader again this week, following up on conversations at the start of the show, its second season, and after its season two finale, we wanted to linger on the craft of it all. Why do Hader and company keep writing themselves into a corner? What’s the inspiration behind its elements of Hollywood satire, attitudes on not wasting takes, and its unique visual ID? Here, ahead of Sunday’s season three premiere on HBO, is Hader on all that and more.

How did this time and everything that went on [with quarantine delays] change your perspective with regard to where you wanted to take the show and the character, specifically?

I’m sure it went in there somehow. The feelings of it, and… We had already had the season written. We were about a week away from shooting when the lockdown happened. Once that happened, we had like a year and a half to work on these scripts and also kind of figure out where it could go beyond that. But yeah, I don’t know. I always kind of realize these things way after the fact, like, “Oh yeah, COVID did totally have an effect on it.” You know? But I’m still in it, we’re still mixing and doing the effects for the last three episodes, so still kind of in it.

You had mentioned last time we talked at the end of season two, the idea of writing yourself into a corner. Why is that so important to you to do that from a creative standpoint?

I don’t know what it is. I watch a lot of movies and I read books, but I don’t watch a lot of television, to be honest. There are a couple of shows like Atlanta that I love and keep up with, but… Last TV show I think I really followed that was a big TV show was Breaking Bad, which obviously, especially in the first season, you could see the kind of influence that show had on our show. And I think because of that, I see this show as kind of like each season is like a big movie, and so you’re always trying to just end it where it feels like that movie would have an interesting ending. But then in doing that, you also kind of know that you’re trying to do this bigger story that hopefully when Barry‘s all done, you could sit down and watch from the pilot to the very last episode and it all feels of a piece.

So it’s interesting, where it’s like these big giant arcs the entire show, and then within that arc, you have a season arc, and then with the season arc, you have each episode has to have its own little arc that is propelling the story along. So I think that’s kind of where that comes from in some way, is going like, well, season two, it’d be great… This is where the movie would end. But knowing on some level, well, there’s more story here, so you want to put something enticing into it that we don’t necessarily…

Beyond the structural part of it though, is there a part of it that is just… you bring it so close to the edge at the end of season two. Obviously, you pull it back and there’s still a lot of show to do. But I’m curious if bringing it to the edge has some kind of thrill effect that drives that. I wonder, do you all just write yourselves into a corner until you can’t get out and then that’s the end of the show?

I don’t really think like that, I guess. To me, it’s just like this is what I want to see, and this is what the characters are doing. I never think of it in those terms. So it’s always kind of like, well, when we’re in there talking about it, it’s very rarely like, “Oh man, people are going to freak out when this happens.” It’s kind of going like, “Well, here’s what the characters are doing, and this would be really…” And I think also maybe my own innate kind of boredom, maybe. Maybe I get bored really easily and I’m like, “Okay, I want something to happen here.” You know?

So the characters can’t stay in one place for too long, essentially.

Yeah. I mean, that’s just like a good story, I think.

I mean, as far as to keep away the boredom, things need to kind be in constant motion.

Maybe. I don’t want to seem like I’m being coy or whatever, but it really is hard for me to kind of put it into… I don’t think about it that way so much. It’s such a kind of weird intuitive thing when you’re writing these things and always trying to keep what is honest with the characters, but then at the same time make it entertaining for myself. You know?

Yeah. Which I think is obviously a key. I know it’s a very different perspective from where I’m sitting, it’s so easy to try and think of these things as “what’s the destination and what’s the work being done to get to the destination,” whereas someone in your position is all about the journey at this point in time.

Yeah. It’s a thing that a lot of people are asking. Even the actors will say… Henry [Winkler], when he watched season two went, “Well, what’s going to happen?” And I was like, “Oh, I don’t know.” [Laughs] You know? The first day we sit down to write season three, the first thing we said was, “All right, so Cousineau knows. What are we going to do?”

What’s the level of influence with someone in his situation when you go over where the storyline is? Is it something where there’s a collaborative feel to it, where you take some suggestions and maybe change things up a little bit, or is it more getting everyone to buy into the story?

You know, everybody’s different. Everybody’s very different. Henry is somebody that is incredibly like, “I’m just along for the journey. You tell me where to go.” Stephen Root is similar, kind of. And not to say that they don’t ask hard questions or they don’t say, “I’d really like to…” I mean, with Henry it’s more like… I had a scene in season three where he had to give a speech at a dinner, and I had him standing, and he would say, “I’d much rather do this sitting.” And that was a way better idea. You know? And Stephen’s a bit the same way. Sarah Goldberg’s someone who comes in with a lot of ideas and comes in with thoughts on her character. And we have these rehearsal processes where we kind of go through and talk it out and try things.

It’s kind of like you [writers] just want to be wrong fast. You’re going to be wrong. So it’s kind of like everyone will go like, “Hey, we got scripts for season three. Great.” And I’m like, “Yeah, those are just scripts. That doesn’t mean they’re right.” [Laughs] Just because there are 30 pages of material doesn’t mean it works. You always think it works and then you get in and then you chip away at it and you go, “Oh, actually, there’s more here. There’s more here.” It’s kind of a process of honing.

And then Anthony Carrigan is kind of in-between Sarah and Henry in a way, where he kind of has a lot of thoughts and a lot of things, but is also kind of also… Not to say that Sarah’s not open to these things, she totally is, but she’s also a really good writer, so she comes in with a lot of interesting material, and we use some of it. And Anthony’s kind of similar, but his is more improvs on set.

Where do you fall on that spectrum when you’re on somebody else’s set?

It really depends on what it is. I mean, those Judd Apatow movies, I mean, those are like free-for-alls, you know? I mean, those are kind of… I mean, you’re not even the same character take to take. [Laughs] You know? It just kind of depends on what it is. If it’s something like… I was in It 2, and my character had a pretty clear kind of journey, and you’re just playing to that, where it’s like, okay, his sarcastic kind of nature is hiding something. And then if it’s something like Skeleton Twins, you kind of stick more to the script and then deviate off a little bit in little moments, but you don’t want to mess with it too much because it’s very delicate.

With regard to Sarah’s character, it feels like that Hollywood satire element that has always been kind of a part of the show just gets played up a little bit in the earlier episodes. Can you tell me a little bit about why it was so important to keep that part of the story alive and vibrant there?

Not to give too much away, but I’ll say that she has her own show, and so by having that (and by virtue of us not having the acting class) it lends itself to that kind of satire and stuff. And it’s also something that we had all gone through, people in the writer’s room. So there’s a scene where she’s getting notes and that was really fun talking about that. Emma Barrie, one of our writers, had told us a story from an actual meeting she had that very much informed the scene in that first episode. So that stuff, it’s there by just virtue that she has her own show.

That junket scene, I was doing a junket for Skeleton Twins, and that movie deals with suicide, and someone asked me about my character and him having tried to commit suicide in the movie and [we’re] having this very serious conversation, and then he went, “I’m about to run out of time. Real quick, what do you think about Ben Affleck as Batman?” [Laughs] And so that ended up on there.

There’s a lot of manic energy coming off of Barry at a few points in these early episodes. Curious how you find the level to play that because it’s really well done.

Oh, thanks. It’s easier for me to track because I wrote it. But I think something like… There’s a specific scene at the beginning of episode two between Barry and Sally where Barry’s pretty unhinged and that’s something that you just kind of do. You don’t really think about it too much. And there’s a lot of joking around on set and everybody’s having a good time, and then you just do it. I tend not to do a lot of takes, not as an actor, but just in general. We kind of just don’t have the time. So it is a feeling of trying stuff in rehearsals and things like that. And then you kind of just feel it out and go, “You know what might be good here is if… Let me try this. Let’s just see what happens.” And then you do it, and sometimes it’s great, and then there are other times it’s bad, and then those are the things we cut out.

Do you feel like it’s helpful to have that kind of discipline to not be able to take that many takes? I know some people could just get lost.

Oh, I’ve never understood it. I’ve never understood it. It’s like when I’m making the show, I might not know the house, but I know the zip code. If that makes sense. And so that’s kind of what I’m focused on when I’m watching the other performers. And I have the story laid out in my head, so I know tonally kind of what should be happening right now in a given moment.

I know as an actor, when people do a lot of takes, it wears you out, and it can actually kind of get you a little confused over what you’re playing. And then sometimes I feel like people are doing it… I can start to distrust a director when I feel like we’re doing too many takes and I don’t know why. One of my least favorite directions is, “Okay, let’s just go again,” because I don’t know what that means. I’d much rather have someone say, “Hey, that sucked.” You know what I mean? Anything. But, “Let’s go again,” I kind of go, “Well, I don’t know what you want.” But look, that’s me. I know other actors I’ve said this to and they go, “What? Oh, no, I love it when they say. That means I can just start trying stuff.”

But I think I tend to make a decision and kind of stick to it. And if I try things it’s like little variations or stuff. I think the difference is, what are we doing that’s making the story better and what is satisfying some sort of ego, whether it’s the director or the actor?

I love some of the homages and references that you work into the show — the High Plains Drifter moment, the season two finale. The scene at the end of the showcase, when the crowd kind of descends on Sally at the end of season two, was that a zombie film/Romero kind of reference?

Oh no, no, it wasn’t thinking about zombie movies at all, but maybe… To me, it was just more the feeling that the success that she got should feel suffocating and kind of dangerous. Like this is the thing you think you want and it’s overwhelming for her. So there’s a way of doing that that’s really sweet, which is people coming up to her and telling her how great she is, and you just play it outside, and it’s a couple of people, and then someone else walks over, and it’s nice. But yeah, I very much wanted it to be uncomfortable and a thing that she wasn’t expecting. That was just a feeling. I don’t know why, but it was just like, oh yeah, [it] should be suffocating.

‘Barry’ returns to HBO for its third season Sunday April 24 at 10PM ET