How old do you feel?
It's one of the first questions Julia Louis-Dreyfus asks her guests (all women of a certain age, most often over 70) on her podcast “Wiser Than Me.” The answers come in from all sides, often a decade or three younger than what appears on her birth certificates. (Or five. Debbie Allen feels like she's 25.) Sometimes the answer is conditional. In her head, Patti Smith believes she is between 9 and 11 years old; She practically feels every one of her 77 years. And from time to time, the guest offers a more forceful response. “Eighty-two,” Fran Lebowitz replies. “Some days, maybe 92.” Her (she was 72 years old at the time).
How old are you? you Do you feel, Julia? We're sitting on the patio of a Pacific Palisades restaurant, not far from her house, sharing a bottle of seltzer, throwing caution to the wind and adding a slice of lime for fun. The restaurant is part of one of Rick Caruso's manicured outdoor shopping centers; the website calls it “tailor-made,” the kind of place in Los Angeles where you can easily spot someone who considers themselves a celebrity these days. At one point in our conversation, Louis-Dreyfus pauses and notices a paparazzo across the way. He stays for a moment and then moves on. “Kim Kardashian is probably having ice cream,” he guesses.
“Anyway… how old are you?” you feel,” he asks me, turning the question around.
Hey, I asked you first.
“I feel like I'm 35, about 35 with a lot of experience,” says Louis-Dreyfus, 63.
Why did you reach that age?
“I feel like I'm really interested in trying new things and doing new things,” she responds. “I just feel, uh…” she pauses, searching for the right thought. “I feel ready for action.”
Lately, Louis-Dreyfus's actions have taken her down a different path, one that veers away from the comedic roles that earned her 11 Emmy Awards for the network comedies “Seinfeld” and “The New Adventures of the Old Christine.” as well as the profane HBO series. political satire “Veep.” Last year, she reunited with filmmaker Nicole Holofcener for “You Hurt My Feelings,” playing a writer devastated to learn that her loving husband was masking her distaste for his elaborate novel. Now, opening next week, comes “Tuesday,” a deeply felt dark comedy about a single mother who negotiates with Death to forgive her teenage daughter.
Both “Tuesday,” the feature debut of Croatian Daina O. Pusić, and “You Hurt My Feelings” come from A24, the independent studio whose logo on a film instantly turns it into cinematic chic.
“I'm absolutely part of the cult, 100%,” says Louis-Dreyfus, citing Jonathan Glazer's provocative, Oscar-winning Holocaust film “The Hot Spot” as one of his favorites. (“I saw it a year ago and I'm still thinking about it,” he says.)
“The kind of movies I like to see, they make them,” Louis-Dreyfus continues. “I drink their Kool-Aid.”
“We've all been big fans of Julia forever,” says A24 film director Noah Sacco. “Seeing her take on a more dramatic role like this with such grace was incredible to behold. “We would like her to be a part of almost everything we do.”
For her part, Louis-Dreyfus seems a little surprised that they like it so much. Even with its adult exploration of painful midlife insecurities and bruised egos, “You Hurt My Feelings” was still very much a comedy, right in Louis-Dreyfus's wheelhouse. “Tuesday,” on the other hand, asks you to navigate fear, regret, anger, and pain. Her character, Zora, tries, at first, to pretend that everything is normal and that her terminally ill daughter will somehow be okay. But then Death arrives (literally, in the form of a talking macaw) and Zora must face the end of everything she loves.
“They took a real leap of faith with me,” says Louis-Dreyfus. “It's outside of what I've done. But it's exactly what I want to do. And it's exactly what I knew I could do if I had the chance. And to have the opportunity to do that is a wonderful thing.”
“It has incredible reach,” Pusić tells me on a Zoom call later. “You know the comedy is going to be pitch perfect, but then you ask her to do a nuanced drama or a deep emotional tragedy or, in my case, these absurd situations, and she just does everything with absolute conviction.”
“But what inspires me is his courage,” Pusić continues, “the courage of someone of that caliber to put himself into such uncharted territory and push forward with such boldness and energy.”
The territory may be strange, but Louis-Dreyfus has been reflecting on mortality for some time. His father, Gérard Louis-Dreyfus, died in 2016. The following year, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. In 2018, his half-sister, Emma, died from an attack while camping in the Sierra Nevada. She was 44 years old.
So it makes perfect sense that Louis-Dreyfus invariably asks his podcast guests how to navigate endings. How do you move forward after a loved one dies? How do you deal with it? How do you keep that loved one present in your life?
“Tuesday,” of course, is also about endings. Only her character, Zora, cannot let herself go and does not want to live without her daughter.
“Death is not a topic that people delve very deeply into, perhaps because it is uncomfortable,” says Louis-Dreyfus. “But it happens to everyone. Not just your own end, of course, but if you are lucky enough to have lived long enough, you will be exposed to loss. And that's worth talking about.”
Death, voiced by Arinzé Kene with expressive weariness, advises Zora: “How you live, so she lives.”
“That makes me cry, just hearing it again,” Louis-Dreyfus says when I repeat the phrase. “Time is the great processor, you know? And the relationships continue. They are still there. That's true for me, anyway.”
I've interviewed Louis-Dreyfus four times over the years and she hasn't been one to get carried away by emotions. So when her voice is heard talking about that moment on “Tuesday,” I remember some recent choked-up moments on her podcast, like when she was a “basket case” interviewing Bonnie Raitt, describing the music. her. as “holy.”
“Things affect you a little differently as you get older,” he says.
And that can make you feel like you're on shaky ground. Louis-Dreyfus filmed “Tuesday” in London, far from home, far from his family, and he remembers being afraid when he had to go to the place where Zora was contemplating the death of her daughter.
“As a parent, you say, 'No, I'm not going to think about that, no, thank you,'” he says. “So he was disruptive.”
Louis-Dreyfus and her husband of nearly 37 years, Brad Hall, have two sons, Henry, 31, and Charlie, 27. Did you ever have any close encounters with children?
“No, thank God, knock on wood,” Louis-Dreyfus responds. That being said, find some wood to hit. We are sitting in a booth; The table is made of wrought iron. I offer one side of my head, but that's not enough. The search becomes frantic. “There's nothing shit here,” he says. Finally, Louis-Dreyfus lifts the table and finds a wooden base plate and raps it with his knuckles.
“You're not superstitious, are you?”
“Hey, it works,” he says, laughing. “Or so I tell myself.”
I remember the moment, which Louis-Dreyfus described on her podcast, when she and a dear friend went hiking in Lions Canyon with their children and the two youngest children, Charlie, then 3 years old, and his friend, disappeared. . The mothers shouted their names. Unanswered. Fifteen, twenty minutes pass. Nothing. Just as they were about to call the police, they heard giggling and the children emerged from behind a large rock.
“That was scary,” says Louis-Dreyfus. “I remember thinking, 'How am I going to call Brad to tell him I've lost our 3-year-old son?' ” She laughs.
“Yes, that is a conversation…” I begin.
“…that you don't want to have,” Louis-Dreyfus says, finishing the thought.
“Having the children has been the most wonderful anchor in my life,” he continues. “It helped me crystallize my priorities. Most parents would say exactly that. It has been my focus. And in this world of entertainment, where things can be fleeting, fickle and uncontrollable, it's good to know what really matters.
Thinking back to the last time we spoke five years ago, I tell her that I notice only a slight change in the way she frames her approach to life. Louis-Dreyfus has always been a tireless optimist. But she seems a little more relaxed. And curious. Insatiably curious. Many of her conversations on the “Wiser Than Me” podcast seem like attempts to solve problems, personal and universal, and better understand the way we negotiate the fourth quarter of life.
“I feel a little more relaxed than I did five years ago,” says Louis-Dreyfus. “Don't ask me why, but I do it. I do not know why”.
Well, let's think about that for a minute.
“I hope to be a little more present than when I was younger, when I was moving, moving, moving,” he says. “I still do that because I'm kind of a workaholic, but I remind myself more often to take a deep breath, take stock, and recognize the moment I'm in. Maybe that's something that comes with age.”
When I ask Pusić how he feels about Louis-Dreyfus when he is older, he replies: “I would say his age is between 21 and 150 years old. He has wisdom and mastery, but also the curiosity to be able to learn more.”
Louis-Dreyfus bursts out laughing when I tell him this.
“Excellent. I'm glad it turned out that way,” he says. “I fooled her very well.”
“But age has opened spaces for me that I have never been before because I can take my experience and apply it,” he adds. “I couldn't have done 'Tuesday' five years ago. Same with the podcast. I'm curious, but it's a more informed curiosity, if that makes any sense. The more you learn, the more you understand that you know nothing. And that is an opportunity.”