Mark Duplass offers a warning before starting talking about its ideal Sunday.
“Be prepared,” he says. “There will not be much leave home today.”
On Sunday Funday, the people of Los Angeles give us a play per game of their ideal Sunday in the city. Find ideas and inspiration about where to go, what to eat and how to enjoy life on weekends.
The actor-director-producer has established himself in a comfortable rhythm with his wife, Katie Aselton, his two children and his pack of rambuntos dogs. For them, the home is Valley Village, a neighborhood of which the couple fell in love quickly. “It's quiet, super friendly for the family and very dog -oriented,” he says.
Duplass's career, however, has been everything but calm. Star on Ellen Pompeo and Imogen Faith Reid in the “good American family” of Hulu, a drama torn in the case of Natalia Grace. Meanwhile, his series “The Creep Tapes” was renewed for a second season in Shudder. Duplass also directs an independent film company with his brother, Jay, and is also a founding partner of the recently relaunched Vidots, non -profit cinema and the rental store in Eagle Rock.
His non -profit fund The Soul Points, which he launched with Aselton in 2020 to support the artists, recently changed marching to help those affected by Los Angeles fires. “If there is something that people in this city know how to do, they are unexpected problems,” he says. “It happens every day in a film, so that kind of thought is a second nature.”
For Duplass, Sundays are to slow down. This is how his ideal day would happen.
This interview has been slightly edited and condensed by length and clarity.
7:30 am: the t-man climbs
In general, I get around 7:30. I really don't get awake too late on weekends. I am not a great drinker. I deal with great anxiety and depression. So I have very specific rhythms that I need to get, which is: sleep a lot. So you will not find a Sunday morning sleeping until 11 because I got off the rails. Dad doesn't leave the rails.
The first thing is the first: open the door, both dogs are awake. I am known in the house as “El T-Man”, and what it represents is “The Gift Man”. But we cannot say “treat”, because if you say “treat”, they will be scared. My sweet mixture of German shepherd, blue, surrounds me sweetly. Murphy, which is my mixture of Pitty-Staffy, is a damn manic, and he will jump on me and soak me. I give you your absolutely disgusting beam liver candy.
Then we are going to have coffee No. 1. I receive a coffee with caffeine per day because, again, Dad stays in the rails. I put a little chocolate, I put some cinnamon and put some raw sugar. Then I see who is awake. It is usually Molly, my minor, who is 12 years old, and Katie, my wife. My eldest daughter, Ora, who has just turned 17, is probably sleeping at this time. Breakfast is oatmeal with fresh blueberries almost every day. And then a second coffee, in decaffeinated mode at this point, which is fine for me. It is equally good. I just want the hot brown ritual.
10 am: Endorphins above
We have a small gym at home, and I make an explosion of 20 minutes, brutal and fast pace on the elliptical machine to make sure that my endorphins are launched and my cardiovascular system.
Dogs enter with me, because they know soon, when I finished with that, we will walk. I take the two puppies and go for a 40 minutes. I use it as a good meditation.
Usually, I listen to some type of album. I am not a type of playlist. I like the full artist's statement. I will try to get something out of my past that connects to feel again or 23 again. Sometimes, that is as ridiculous as the registration of Spins doctors that I used to love, or sometimes it is one of my indigo girls.
11 am: cold and hot leaves
When I finish with the walk, I have been heating the hydromassage bathtub. I make 104 degrees in the hydromassage bathtub and 57 in the fall of the cold, which, not to sound like a broken disk, but that is good for mental health and good for the body.
Noon: Nothing is wasted
I am “the man of the leftovers.” I grew up in the suburbs of New Orleans with a mentality of the era of extreme depression that my grandmother and my mother granted me. It does not waste food, even if it is rotting in the refrigerator. You simply fried intense heat in the pan and we hope you kill bacteria.
Towards the end of the week, I will bake a great chicken and the family will eat a third for dinner, and then I have it to get. I maintain a very strategic group of frozen vegetables and frozen rice in my freezer that can be combined with chicken and different types of sauces: “Oh, maybe this can be a soy -based meal” or “we will take it more to Mexico for this.” And I make a big sauteed. And generally two or three people in the family participate in that.
2 PM: The Vidot people
This is where the day on my “ideal” Sunday I would change a bit. [On an ideal Sunday]Would go to Vidóts For a 2 or 4 movie. Vidiots is my church. Sometimes they are playing a Japanime movie for the family that we all want to see, some of the family will come. Or the MUBI Microcinema in Vidots is showing second -home movies.
I feel so good there. It is connected to my whole life. There was an art cinema of the second house of view and elaboration in New Orleans called movie pitchers that I was in high school. I went to university in Austin and, of course, we had Alamo Drafthouse. And I lived in New York, so I've always had a theater like that.
3:30 pm: a strategic cold
You have the Foster Freeze Next to the Vidios in case you want to do something unpleasant after a projection. Or, one of my favorite things to do is have a drink like 3:30 or 4 o'clock in the Pinball Bar [Walt’s] With an empty stomach, so you can get a relatively cheap buzz without putting too much alcohol in my body. And then dinner so that it does not have any damage to mood or damage by hangover for me. And I can still remember who he was, that child of New Orleans at the age of 14 that made so many drugs. So. Many. Drugs I can't believe it is here.
4:30 pm: Zankou and Rummikub With people
My parents live in Pasadena, and we are very, very close to them, and they are very close to my children. They are in the late 70s. My dad is going to turn 80 this year.
In the end, you've seen a movie and someone is dying at the end, and they say: “Man, he would only want us to have had more memories like that trip we took here '?” There is not only one memory with my parents and my brother and her family. We have hundreds and they are great. So there is no compensation for lost time, but I just want selfish.
All this time we spend together now has removed the pressure completely. It's not like, “we have to go to Europe and do everything.” All we want to do together is: my parents come, I order Zankou chickenAnd we will play bananagrams or rummikub or there is a puzzle. We will watch some old videos of when the children were younger, what they love to do. And it is really boring in the best way, it is very comforting.
7 PM: “something” in a crowd
So I do some dishes, and pray, my eldest son, will disperse to go to work in an audition or talk to her boyfriend. Katie and I will get “alone” in History Channel. It is the Canadian version of “Survivor” of slightly low rent. You learn a lot about berries and ethical hunting. But most importantly, it has many personalities that have not really had luxury, or in some cases, horror, to face existentially.
9 PM: Revive your love for books
When you have children, something funny happens, which is, when they are very young, you put them in bed, and then run to put yourself in bed yourself, because you are constantly trying to store the dream because you know they will wake you up. My wife and I have remained at that time, although we no longer have to do it. Our children are 12 and 17 years old, but we love to go to bed around 9 o'clock.
We get our books. I love my Kindle because I have it connected to my Los Angeles Public Library account. The Public Library: They make you wait. So there will be a book that I really want to read, and it will be like an eight -week waiting list, and then, when I arrive, it's like Christmas.
Then I enter the bathroom, brush my teeth and take my very important 20 milligrams of Citalopram – [an] SSRI, who keeps dad in the rails. I've been taking that for 16 years. And I take a little probiotic because I am 48 years old.
I say five little things while I close my eyes before going to the bed for which I am grateful or excited for the next day, which is the 101 self -help, as basic as it is, but that works. Just to sit there in bed and say: “I'm going to open the door, and those hair dogs will be so happy to see me, and I can bring you joy. So even if all day goes to S, tomorrow, I will have this little wonderful interaction with these little puppies that I love.” I try to focus before leaving.
