
'The Interview': Ben Stiller on 'Severance,' Selling Out and Being Jewish Today
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- 11 Jan 2025
The actor-director discusses the long-awaited return of the hit series, the comedies that made him a star and growing up with his famous parents.Unlock full access to New York Times podcasts and explore everything
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From the New York Times, this is the interview. I'm David Markezi. The long-awaited, Emmy Award-winning series, Severance, returns for its second season next week. I've seen a bunch of the new episodes which have some real surprises in them, and I can say that I'm very eager to see other fans' reaction to how the show has moved forward with its story. By way of a reminder, that story is about a a rebellious group of employees at the mysterious and probably malevolent Lumen industries. Those employees are office drones whose consciousness has been artificially separated between their work selves, also known as their innies, and their outies, their selves away from the office. That sense of a divided self is one to which Ben Stiller, who co-directed and co-executive produces the series, can probably relate. It's actually one of the things that's most intriguing to me about him. He's a hugely successful comedic actor from mainstream hits like Meet the Parents and Night at the Museum, who has gradually stepped away from acting in favor of his first love, directing. As a director, he's a much more subversive and distinctive stylist than his biggest acting roles might suggest.
Take, for example, more serious projects like his crime drama series, Escape at Danamora, as well as Severance, of course, and also his off-the-wall comedy satires like Cable Guy and Zoolander, the latter of which he also started. So I don't think I'm overreaching in suggesting that there is some in-y, out-y, Severance-style tension, if you will, running through Stiller's own story. As I found out while speaking with him in his Manhattan office, that's something he was trying to make sense of, too. Here's my conversation with Ben Stiller. I was thinking about severance and where it fits in the arc of your career. Are there specific things that working on comedy gave you the tools for when it comes to working on something like severance, which I would describe as maybe comedy adjacent?
It's funny because I don't categorize it specifically. I find that stuff very funny. I think whenever anything is very specific, it's always funny. I feel like the show has its basis in the workplace comedy, like the office or office space or parks and rec. But where it goes off, I think this season we probably went to some stranger places. But I felt like that was also just part of what the show is. The show has to continue on its journey and can't just stay and doing the same thing. But I love that stuff.
You think of the second season as still in the vein of a workplace comedy?
The second season probably gets a little bit stranger than that. But it is based in the idea that started the show, that these people are in a workplace doing a job that they don't understand, they don't know who they are or what they're doing or why they're there. That, to me, has always been the blueprint for the show.
There were a couple news stories that came out about Severance being a difficult production with delays and differences. Was it a particularly difficult production? Do you find that there is any link between how difficult something is to make and the uniqueness of that thing? Because Severance is a unique show, and I wonder if it just is going to be trickier than if you're doing a traditional sitcom or something.
I've never really believed that idea of you have to have friction or something on a set, or I've heard directors talk about that to keep tension on set. I think just the nature of making this show over the last, I mean, it's five years now, has been a learning experience. Sometimes, creatively, it's been the questions of, which way do we go with it? I really believe that the show comes out of the different creative perspectives of the people who work on it. And so, yeah, it's not always perfect. We went through patches where there were difficulties, but it's also, I think it all came out of everybody wanting something to be as good as it could be. And I really believe that all those different points of view ended up making the show what it is. So, yeah, there was some stuff that happened, but it wasn't a big deal.
Do you know how the series ends? Do you have the arc all plotted out?
We have the end.
Yes. Would it be a spoiler to tell me the ending?
Yes, of course. You know the end, so you know what you're working towards. Yes, we definitely have an end. I think we now know exactly how many seasons, which I won't say at this point. But yeah.
Can you say something enigmatic that seems like it reveals a clue to the ending?
I mean, In my mind, this series has always been about Mark and his Indian is Audi, and what happens with his Indian is Audi, and what is the ultimate destination for both of them.
I knew it.
Yeah.
What you were saying a bit before about people being at work and on some level, mystified about the fact that things seem opaque. You don't really feel like you have control You don't know who's really making the decisions. I was thinking that maybe Hollywood is like that in some ways. It's not clear who's calling the shots or where the power really lies. Did your work experience inform the show in any way?
Yeah. That's a good question. I do think what you said is true that at a certain point, there's always somebody making a decision who is not making it to your face or telling you or you even know who that person is. It can be really, really frustrating. I think in show business, even probably more than... I mean, just from my own experience, how something happens, why it happens, why someone gets rejected, why a decision is made is never explained to the artist or the creative person. Or if it is, it's usually not the truth. It's a cliché in Hollywood, but it's true. Is that everybody will say yes, and it doesn't mean yes, it means no. Or let me think about it. Or, yeah, great. This was a great meeting. And then a day later, yeah, they're passing. More than ever, honestly, these days, because it's a very tough environment now to get things made. I think just with the post-strike, post-COVID, it's more expensive to make things. I think the decision-makers are trying to keep their jobs and trying to figure out how to make things work for them, which means constriction and choices that are safer.
Hearing you say that to mind in the late '90s, into the 2000s, your bread and butter were these big Hollywood comedies. In a lot of those films you played, it was a type. You were a well-meaning, often outsider, in some sense, who is made to suffer a bunch of indignities, but ultimately comes out on top at the end. Was there any part of you that felt like you understood why audiences responded to you in that role in particular? Was there any part where you were like, Why do they want to see me yet?
Honestly, I never had no... I mean, it's funny because at the time... I remember a moment in time when people started having that reaction. I would open up a newspaper and be like, Why is Ben Stiller in every movie? I remember opening up the LA Times and a guy wrote It was actually a funny inside joke with Ricky Trevase for a long time because there was this writer who wrote a letter to God, Dear God, Stop Putting Ben Stiller in Comedies. It was like, yeah, but I wasn't thinking. I was I was like, I don't know. I'm here. I'm doing it. I love doing what I do. But it's only in retrospect more to look back and go, Oh, yeah, that was like, wow. There was a thing happening there that I was very fortunate to be a part of, but I don't know what the zeitgeist was or what. You can look at 2000s comedies now and go, Okay, they were a specific thing, a tone. There were a lot of great things in those comedies, too, that we don't have now, but I don't know if you can recreate that now. But at the time, I really wasn't analyzing it too much.
I was just trying to figure out how to navigate it.
You did have this real string of big movies from something about Mary through the Night at the Museum. Did you feel like because those movies were hitting, you got swept up in something that was out of your control a little bit? What was your thinking about the work in that period?
It's not something when you're in it that you are really able to analyze because it's happening.
I I don't believe you when you wanted to say that because I suspect you were very strategic throughout your career thinking about what was going to potentially work at different times. But what do I know?
I don't think so because I don't think I'm that smart, really. I think I would make decisions based I remember very clearly, Night at the Museum was a decision because I grew up near the Natural History Museum, and I thought, Oh, I love this. If I was a kid, I'd love this, and it would be fun to do.
But then the Night at the Museum 3 decision is a little different, right?
Yeah, but it's also... At that point, you've got a team together, and those were all fun to do. I'm like, I'm not going to not want to work with Robin Williams or Sean Levy getting this group together. But when I was in that period, I don't think I had the ability to hover over and go, How am I looking at... A lot of actors and filmmakers do have that ability. I just wasn't at that place. The only part of it that was nagging at me. It was like, I like to do other kinds of movies as a filmmaker, and I just never really stopped to make the time to do that. I was directing a lot of those movies myself, directing myself in them. A lot of times getting movies made as a director because I was in them. They say, Well, if you would be in it, then we'll make it. Also, I think it's just like something that happened, and you don't have control over that.
The tension between knowing that there were movies that you wanted to make, and then you also had opportunities to be in other movies. How alive was that tension for you at the time? Do you remember experiences where you might have been thinking like, Oh, I want to make this, but I'll just offer to you, along came Poly, or whatever the movie might have been. I'm going to go with that one.
Yeah, sure. That's a personal choice you make at the time. I think fear is always a big thing as an actor, I think. I saw a Q&A with Jeremy Strong, that movie The Apprentice, and somebody asked him, Why did you want to do this role? He said, Fear. I totally identify with that because fear is what drives you sometimes to go away from something or sometimes to jump into something, depending on where you're at.
What was a fear-driven decision?
I think so many decisions are based in... It's underneath. It's like whether or not the fear is going to push you away from something or you're going to jump off the cliff with I had a chance to do Glenn Gary, Glen Ross on Broadway, probably around that long came poly time, I decided not to do that. I looked back, Oh, maybe I would have liked to have done that. But it's also just where I was at the time.
Has what you're afraid have changed over time?
Yeah, I think as you get older, it changes everything in terms of what you look at as what's ahead of you in terms of the things that you think you want to do, then really looking at, Okay, I'm at this point in my life, I'm at this age. You have to think more about, Well, do I really want to take this chance right now? How much do I care about what the bad result is. I think as you get older, for me, it's like you care a little bit less about that if you want to do something because you're like, Well, why am I letting this intangible thing, which is fear of what? It's fear of people saying I suck, fear of people not going to see it or saying, I mean, what is that? I've experienced that because as you know, I've had successes and failures. The day after something doesn't do well or if it gets bad reused or people don't go. It's not like anything in your literal life has changed, your real life, your tangible life. It's just how you feel. You feel embarrassed or you feel like, damn, I wanted to be the winner.
But winning doesn't always happen. It usually doesn't happen. How do you live with that? When you take the chance, it's still important that you took the leap and you went for it. Failure can be in not taking the chance. As you get older, I think that's something that you start to feel. It's like, Well, I just want to have this experience while I'm still here.
Just hearing you talk about your thinking in the context of the audience and also what you want to do. In my mind, I remember how I did one of these interviews with Eddie Murphy, and he said he only wants to do projects that he knows will work. He's not interested, really, in doing something that might be off-putting or aliening. If he's going to spend time on doing something, he wants to feel confident that it's going to work, which doesn't quite sound like how you think about it.
Yeah. I mean, sometimes the audience has to have time to... I feel like this has happened in a bunch of movies I've done, which is it takes the audience a few years to get it. Like Zoolander or something like that. Zoolander, when it came out, was not a big hit. Because what a weird world, what a weird character. But once they became acclimated to it, then then became something that they really liked.
Reality Bites was the first film you directed? Yeah. That's a film that really seemed to speak to Gen X, both then and still continues to speak to them. Do Do you think that film is representative of any specific generational values that you hold?
I feel like the film is a timepiece of where we were at that moment in time as put through a a pop culture lens. It was written by Helen Childress, who was taking her experience and trying to encapsulate the issues that she was dealing with. I think I was coming to add more as my character, honestly, the Michael character, who was the guy trying to commodify it a little bit and was outside of it a little bit. In a way, I feel like that's what the movie is. Helen was Lelaina and I was Michael, and we improvised a lot as she was rewriting the script when we were working on it. That was my experience of making that movie. I do feel like, generationally, though, the issues in that movie are evergreen issues.
I strongly disagree. Really? Yeah. Really. Well, why do you think they're evergreen?
Well, I just think it's that moment in time where you're having to figure out how to... If you have parents who've supported you, whatever, you're having to cut the cord and figure out how to go out into the world and find yourself.
No, I 100% agree with that aspect of it. The aspect of the film that to me feels very much like a time capsule and representative of a specific Gen X attitude that has basically disappeared is the anxiety about the possibility of selling out. I think now, young creative people, it's like, maybe it's just because they've realized it's so hard to actually make a living the concept of selling out is a total phantom that doesn't exist for people anymore.
Because it's almost like- It's like, anybody's going to give me money?
Of course, I'll take it.
But I think a lot of that is because of how social media has changed, how people can upload their lives to everyone directly.
I don't know what's the connection. I don't.
Just that she was making a little documentary on her video camera that then she had to give to Michael to put on the MTV version of what that was. Now, you just go straight to the internet. I think young people are expected to do that now and to create their own movie and get it out into the world. I think it plays into what you're saying, which is it's almost like if you're not selling out, you're not doing what you should be doing. I feel that with my kids, I see that pressure on them when I see their friends and what they post and their image of what they put out to the world. It's a responsibility. If you don't do that, you're not part of what's going on. I feel like there's almost a pressure to have to do that.
Another project I think you wanted to make for a long time was an adaptation of What makes Sammie Run, Bud Schulberg novel. You tried for years to get that made. For people who don't know the book, it's a story about a Jewish character named Sammie Glick, who's a conniving a moral striver in Hollywood and his unquenchable thirst to succeed in that world. I thought, that's an interesting movie for a young, successful Jewish man in Hollywood to want to make. What was it about that book that resonated with you?
Well, I thought the story was... It's this prototypical story of a guy who comes from nothing to do whatever it takes to get to the top. I think Bud Schulberg always saw it as a metaphor for anybody who wants to get to the top, that mindset of it doesn't matter, you just do whatever it takes. That's why I think the novel resonates. I think there's always been a resistance to it, and I can understand why. For a long time, I was very frustrated because I felt like, Well, this story should be made. But the flip side of it is that it can be looked at as you're shining a spotlight on a Jewish character who is this self-hating Jew who is willing to do whatever.
Do you think that was the resistance to making it?
I think so. I I mean, partly, I think so. I think it's always been hard to make show business stories in Hollywood because people in the business feel like the outside world isn't interested in the inside baseball of it, though. I've always been attracted to those kinds the stories. It's funny, I think about it now, and I would love to see that story made. What I worry about is how people would interpret it on the outside, and that's as a Jewish person.
Do you think there are ways in which after October seventh, being Jewish in Hollywood has been trickier to navigate, or have things felt different?
I think just being a Jewish person feels different. I think it an environment that... Growing up, I grew up in an incredibly sheltered, Upper West Side environment. I never experienced anti-Semitism. I heard about it, but I was never around it. The reality of that, to start feeling that now where other people have felt it their whole lives in other parts of the world and in other parts of our country. To see the spike and the rise in anti-Semitic violence is something that I never thought I'd experience in my lifetime and feeling what my kids are feeling, too, and how incredibly politicized it all is and how complicated it is because with the social media universe and all of it, it's almost impossible to really talk about it in a really level-headed way where you can hear other people's ideas because people are just shouting at each other on social media. But the reality of it is really frightening. Yeah.
But has any of that reality in any way filtered into your working life?
I don't know. I think it's also a choice of, as a creative person where you want to put your energy. In terms of the business, I think there have always been those misconceptions of how Jews are involved in Hollywood, and that's always been a thing. A lot of that also is, I think, a result of the fact that there were a lot of successful Jewish people who started the Hollywood movie industry. It's folded in on itself. But the reality of that world now is so completely different. It's just the Jewish population is so small. It took me a long time to even realize that in my sheltered world. What is it, 20 million Jews in the whole world or something like that. The proportion of success, it's a very tough thing to navigate. I feel like right now in the world, there's just so much hate and antipathy that's out there. It's not limited to anti-Semitism, but that's something Jewish people are feeling, but people are feeling it all over, too.
I have no smooth segue to get out of the anti-Semitism portion of this conversation.
Okay, good. I'm just going to take a hard left.
In my reading of your career, around 2010, a real change happens. Starting 2010, you really did a lot fewer of the big, broad comedies. You started to do films like, you did three Noah Bomback movies, Secret Life of Walter Mitty, Brad Status. These are all movies that are really about middle-aged guys working through the big questions. Was doing those films the result of a conscious decision that you wanted to start doing a different film and stop doing what you had doing before?
Yeah, I think around that time, I moved back to New York. I'd been living in LA for 20 years, and we decided to move back here where I grew up, and I wanted to try to spend more time at home But also it was, yeah, it was like a point where, for me, really, where it changed in terms of my outlook was after Zoolander 2. It was the feeling of like, Oh, okay, this is what... Everybody wants this. All right, I'm going to do it. I had fun doing it, and then nobody wanted it. I was like, Well, but you said you wanted it. Really, was it that bad? That was where I really was like, Oh, I have to make a choice here where I'm not going to do that if I want to do these other things and wait for the right opportunity to come up and not go off and, Oh, if somebody's offering me Zoolander 3, then I'm going to go do that. But Zoolander 2 gave me the gift of nobody offering me Zoolander 3 because nobody wanted it at that time. It was It's like, Okay, here's some space.
I have to live with that feeling, the feeling of not winning. Also, my marriage wasn't in a great place, and there was a lot going on that really, for me, I think I got a little bit clearer on what I wanted and what my priorities were. But I think 2010 was the beginning of that moving out of LA.
You mentioned your marriage was in a bad place, and you and your wife, Christine Taylor, separated for a while and reconciled. I saw her talking on Drew Barrymore's talk show, and she brought up the idea of the separation, reconciliation being the result of what she called Adult Growth Spurts, which I thought was a nice way of putting it. What was your growth spurt during that time?
When we separated, it was just having space to see what our relationship relationship was, what my life felt like when we weren't in that relationship, how much I cared about my family, how much I loved our family unit. I think we both, as she said, we both took care of ourselves separately. Eventually, it was like three or four years, really, that we weren't together, but we always were connected. In my mind, I never didn't want us to be together. I don't know where Christine was. You'd have to ask her, but COVID put us all together in the same house. It was an act of God. Yeah. It was almost like a year of living in the same house before we were actually together. But I'm so grateful for it. Not that many people do come back together when they separate. I mean, a lot of people do, I'm sure. But there's nothing like that when you do come back because you really do have so much more of an appreciation for what you have because we know we could not have it, too.
My understanding is you're working on a documentary about your parents, Anne Miera, Jerry Steeler, the Comedy Team. People don't know the Comedy Team, they certainly know that your dad played George Costanza's dad on Seinfeld. I was thinking about the fact you're working on a documentary about them. It occurred to me that outside of a therapeutic setting, there aren't a lot of opportunities for people to in a structured way, sit and think about their parents. What has working on the documentary revealed to you about your understanding of your parents?
Well, I think it's really made me look at my own relationship to my parents more than anything. Every time I want to make the movie about them, I'm realizing it's all reflecting back on my own issues that I have with them and how much... I mean, you're right. I feel so fortunate that I have all this footage of my parents and our family from the Super 8 movies that my dad took and then I took and recordings my dad made hours and hours and hours.
Just talking into a tape machine?
Talking with my mother as they were writing sketches, or sometimes he just record us just because he wanted to have our voice But I see the world I grew up in. I see my father. I was just thinking about it this morning, just how much of I love my father, but also that tension of not wanting to be my father But everybody loves my father. I would love to be loved as my father is loved because he was a lovely person. But then there's also the thing of like, Oh, but I'm me. That was something I was feeling since I was a teenager.
Really, the conflict between understanding that people had affection for your father and also you're not wanting to be your father, but wanting people's affection?
No, I think it was more just wanting to individuate from my father, wanting to be my own person, not being into their comedy and their thing. I wanted to be a serious director. Then when I discovered comedy, it wasn't like what they did. It was like, I like SCTV or Saturday Night Live. Not until I was older was able to really just appreciate what they did. But all the while, my parents were so supportive, especially my dad. My mom was a little bit of a tougher audience. I think my dad was very overprotective and concerned about the rejection in show business that you have to deal with. Yeah, I don't know. I mean, it's a hard thing when you look up to a parent so much in terms of just their what their essence is. Jerry's essence was so sweet that I look at myself and go, Am I that person? Am I as good as he was? Maybe that's a good thing to want to aspire to, but I feel like that's what he was.
Are you?
I don't know. I mean, I try. But also, by the way, he obviously wasn't perfect, but he wasn't one of those guys who was like, win, win, win. That wasn't his drive. His drive was just to create and to try to protect his family and to be loved because he came from a background of parents who were very poor, and there was a lot of fighting between his parents in the depression, and he wasn't nurtured like that, but he didn't go on to not nurture his children. He went the opposite way. He was so nurturing. So that's what he was.
Wait, so you're sitting on a couch, so this is all appropriate.
I'm going to lie down now.
But that was your dad. Yeah. Your mom was a tougher critic?
She was. She was Irish Catholic Very funny. I think I actually share more of my mom's sense of humor than my dad's. She was a serious actor who then my dad drew into a comedy, who came up with idea for them to do their comedy act, to make money after they'd been married for five or six years in the '50s. I think she never loved comedy. She was very good at it. I think she was more naturally adapted it than my dad, actually. My dad was funny But his dream was to be Eddie Cantor or Jack Benny. My mother was more of a polished stage, like a nightclub. She really just knew how to work a crowd. She wrote plays. She wrote plays, and she was more interested in writing and reading and acting in different kinds of things. She, I think, always was like, when she saw me doing comedy, she was like, Oh, that's great. But I liked Greenberg or I like Permanent Midnight.
There's a New Yorker profile of you from around the time of Walter Mitty. The writer mentioned that you had been developing a project, I want to say it was called The Mirror, about a Hollywood success who was worried he was a sellout and wanted to become a truth teller or something. The writer made hay of this as a parallel for you. But the little tidbit in there is that your mom vetoed the project?
Yeah, right.
What was that about?
Well, In the idea of the movie was, that's funny, I'd forgotten about that. My family had to play my family. Also, there was a psychiatrist who kicks off the whole thing. I think it gives my character a pill or something. But I wanted Jean Wilder to play that guy. I sent it to my mom and to Jean Wilder, and they both mixed it. Jean Wilder, he's like, I think you're great, but I do not like this project. I thought it was really good. My mother didn't want to go there. Now, that's very atypical of her because when I was starting out, audition tapes or I did an audition reel for Saturday Night Live where I had my parents in it, and they were in so many things that I did. It was never a thing, but for some reason, that specific role, and maybe it was what... I don't know. I wish I could ask her.
You mentioned Saturday Night Live. You were on it famously or infirmously for about four episodes or something like that because you wanted to make short films for them, and you could tell it wasn't going to work out. But the thing that I'm curious about is, what is the conversation like when you go into Lorne Michael's office and tell him, I'm leaving the show show that every young comedian in the country aspires to being on? What was his response?
He was like, Okay, that's my Lord. Ben's going to do what Ben's going to do. It wasn't great, but I knew that I couldn't do well there because I wasn't great at live performing. My mom would have been better on that show. I got too nervous. I didn't enjoy it, and I wanted to be making the short film. In the moment, there were reasons why, and I had this opportunity to do this MTV show, and it had been a dream to be on Saturday Night Live. But looking back on it, I don't remember exactly how I had the...
Fortitude, gumption.
I was going to say, yeah. I know the word you're going to say. The gumption. Thank you very much to do that. But for whatever reason, I followed that instinct.
Sorry to jump around, but I read your dad's memoir. Yeah. Oh, wow.
Married to laughter.
Married to laughter. There was a little segment in there that I wanted to read to you and have a question about. It's nothing weird. This is supposed to be heartwarming and whimsical here at the end. He wrote, What words of wisdom can I give my children? See past the hype and the glitz and ask yourself why you want to perform. It may take years to arrive at the answers, but understanding the reasons will help you to keep the dream alive and reach your goals. Do you feel like you understand your reasons for why you do what you do?
That's interesting because when I hear that, I know that my dad knew why he wanted to perform. It's a good question. I think so. I mean, for me, I think it's about trying to get closer to expressing my true self, trying to somehow make something that feels truthful and real and maybe is just more opening up myself in a way that's closer to the bone and trying to have the courage to keep going for that. For me, it's figuring it out is just what life is about. It's the big question, what are we here for? I haven't figured that out yet. I think as I continue to try to figure that out while I'm still here, I feel like that's what I want to try to make the work that I do about, too.
I probably should have brought this up when it's more thematically appropriate, but I thought maybe it's a good place to end also. But I love a movie you made mid '90s called Heavyweights, which is about a lunatic named Tony Perkis.
Perkis, yeah.
Played by you who buys, for a lack of a better term, a fat camp.
This is a Disney movie, by the way.
A Disney They're not making this movie today. Essentially, he tries to torture the kids into losing weight. My sister and I used to watch the movie over and over again. We had the VHS tape. I still remember lines from it, which I'm not going to subject you to. Then about 10 years later, Dodgeball, you did a character named White Goodman, who's also the bad guy who's trying to professionalize a dodgeball league. It's essentially the same character you transposed from one film into the other, right?
No, they're not. They're totally different. One has blonde hair and one has really dark hair. One has a mustache. Even the voice is the same. The voice is basically the same.
It's not just me. Thank you.
No. I mean, it was like, you know, like those are two like the most fun experiences I've ever had on movies, playing those characters. We did the reading for Dodgeball. Ross and Thurber had written the movie and was directing it. Then I was like, I don't know what voice I need to do. I don't want to have that many different voices. Then I just went into that voice and it's like, That's great. I was like, Well, I did that in heavyweights. It's like, Oh, that's all right, whatever. I honestly never thought, not that I was trying to pull one over. It's just like, I never thought anybody would really, 30 years later, be talking to me- Here I am. On the New York Times about calling out heavyweights and dodgeball. It just wasn't in my frame of reference. Really? You didn't think about that? Yeah.
Poor long-term thinking.
If I could go back, babe. But no, it was just like, All right, I'll just go for it and do this one.
Well, thank you very much for taking all the time today. I appreciate it.
Yeah, it was great talking to you, man.
You know we're supposed to talk again. We do two. We are?
Yeah, right. You do the little follow-up.
Yeah. Great. Please don't refer to it as the little follow-up.
Isn't it usually a phone call or something?
Yeah, but I take it. I really think about it. I'm sorry. After the break, I call Ben back with a few more questions about how comedy has changed.
I think It was just a, I don't want to say a more innocent time 20 years ago because it wasn't that innocent, but weirdly, it was.
Hi, Ben. How are you?
Hey.
It's the follow-up, the little follow-up.
Just because you said little follow I'm going to rake you over the coals. Ben, I'm determined to elicit a nugget of severance information that will make the obsessives on the internet go nutty. So without giving too much away, there's an episode in the upcoming season where someone, and it's not clear who, is walking and whistling a melody, which I believe is the melody of Gordon Lightfoot's The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald. Is that correct?
I don't think that's a spoiler to say that.
Wait, but do you deny- I don't think it's a spoiler to say it.
Do you deny that that song's lyrics are perhaps a Rosetta Stone for deciphering exactly what Severance and Lumen are up to?
I'm not going to say anything, and I want to leave all options open. But also, no, I'm a Gordon Lightfoot fan. I think he was incredible. Oh, really? Oh, my God, yes. I used Careful Highway at the end of Escape A Day in the More. Oh, yeah. And I will hopefully always be able to use his music in movies because I think he's just one of the great artists of our time.
Let me shift gears. I was thinking about how when you came back to a certain comedy with Zoolander 2, the way you put it was that was an example of you thinking people wanted something, you gave it to them, and then it turned out they didn't want it. It made me curious if despite Zoolander 2, if you have gotten or still get pitches for a new Fokker's movie?
Yes. The interesting thing is it came out a couple of years ago, I think that I was the the image that De Niro was when we did the first movie and what would have evolved in that. Now that my character, that Greg would have kids, maybe one of them is getting married. So it was an interesting mirror to the first movie. But for me, I guess I look at it differently as a director than as an actor. If there was something that came together on Fokers that everybody liked, that was fun, I'm open to that. But I think maybe for me as a director, my head is in a different place, probably even post-Sanamora and Severance and stuff.
Basically, are you saying the stakes feel a little bit lower when you're just acting in it?
No, it's Well, no, it's just a different creative experience for me, I think. It's really more like my personal interest as a filmmaker, I think, right now. I I don't know. I think it's really hard to make a comedy. In a way, when you're directing, I like the freedom also of not having to direct a comedy where you can... Any comedy that comes into something that's dramatic is usually welcome if the tone is clear, but it's a bonus and not an expectation. And if I'm really being honest, that's That's part of it, too.
I was thinking about how when we were talking about your comedies from the 2000s, you said there were a lot of great things in them that we don't have now, and also that you don't know if that can be recreated. But what don't we have now in comedy that we did have back then?
I think it's just the freedom, the freedom to not worry about how something was going to get interpreted and I do think it was in a weird way. It was a freer time because there was less analysis given even to the people who were making the comedy. I think it was just a I don't want to say a more innocent time 20 years ago because it wasn't that innocent, but weirdly, it was.
I just was thinking about this lately in a different context and thinking about how there's this whole universe of comedy podcasts now where people are saying whatever the hell they want to say, seemingly with no regard for who's going to be upset about it or not. I just wonder, is it your experience that that like, comedy feels trickier?
Well, I can only speak from my own experience, which is I definitely am aware of that. But again, I also never really thought about it that way back in the 2000s, too. I don't think I was I think I'm the same person I was in that regard, in terms of... I wasn't the guy who was going to go out there and say whatever. I think I always had that self-awareness that probably just was part of who I am.
Let me try and... I'm trying to wrap things up with a bit of a bow here, but I saw somewhere that your ambition early on was to try to make movies as good as Albert Brooks's movies. Have you lived up to that?
Oh, God, no. I mean, he just basically created it all on his own, and I think he had a persona that he developed. I guess you could say Woody Allen did it, too. But for me, there was just something about the tone of his humor that is so unique. For me, the answer is no. I think I've been able to make some things that I feel proud of, and I love being a movie director and actor and all that, but I feel like what he did is unique and really has not ever been equalled.
Do you have specific ambitions for what you do with your career?
I really just want to keep on getting closer to making something that I feel as good as it can be and is as honest as it can be, that to me is really satisfying.
Ben, thank you very much for taking all the time to talk with me. I appreciate it.
Yeah, I've enjoyed it. This was a good follow-up. I feel like it wasn't like a little whatever.
Good luck with your little TV show.
My little thing.
Your little New York Times thing you got, babe.
Good to see you.
That's Ben Stiller. The second season of Severance airs January 17th on Apple TV+. This conversation was produced by Wyatt Orm. It was edited by Annabelle Bacon, mixing by Sophia Landman. Original music by Dan Powell, Diane Wong, and Marion Lozano. Photography by Phyllta Montgomery. Our senior Booker is Priya Matthew, and Seth Kelly is our senior producer. Our executive producer is Allison Benedict. Special thanks to Rory Walsh, Ronan Borelli, Jeffrey Miranda, nick Pitman, Maddie Macielo, Jake Silverstein, Paula Schumann, and Sam Dolnik. If you like what you're hearing, follow or subscribe to the interview wherever you get your podcast. To read or listen to any of our conversations, you can always go to nytimes. Com/theinterview, and you can email us anytime at theinterview@nytimes. Com. Next week, I talk with Curtis Yarvin, a controversial blogger whose ideas have gained traction among powerful Republican figures.
The question of basically, is democracy good or bad? Is, I think, a secondary question to, is it what we actually have?
I'm David Markezi, and this is the interview from the New York Times..