A place to experience intense emotions
Variety TV critic Alison Herman on L.A. seasons, less than ideal viewing circumstances, meeting John Mulaney, and the one show you need to watch
VANCOUVER – The number sixteen bus is lumbering down Granville when, suddenly, Robert De Niro feels “the heat” around the corner.
I can barely see him. The rush hour sunshine is cresting over my right shoulder, cooking my neck and casting a harsh glare across my iPhone. But I’ve seen this film before. I know what’s about to happen. Al Pacino and the LAPD intercept De Niro and company, guns drawn. A firefight erupts in broad daylight. Angelinos flee in panic.
It’s one of the best action sequences ever captured and I’m experiencing it on a cellphone only slightly bigger than my wallet.
I’ve been doing this for over a month; watching Michael Mann’s Heat in fits and starts, as I commute home, or to rec basketball. It usually happens when I’ve run out of podcasts, or forget to bring a book. It passes the time, but also feels deeply perverse. Like I’m submitting to the lesser angels of my nature, embracing my own selfishness. I know it’s weird to watch Val Kilmer get shot in the shoulder while sitting next to some stranger, to have my fellow passengers see blood splatter across the screen.
I know this and yet I do it anyway. Because I’m tired and hungry and because fuck you it feels good okay???
Heightening the bacchanal pleasure is my assumption that Michael Mann would almost certainly not want me to watch his movie this way. Tilting the phone to avoid my reflection, turning up my AirPods to drown out the sound of traffic. This is not a cinematic experience. It is the fall of Rome, the contentification of all things.
As we merge into traffic, De Niro calls Jon Voight and tells him he needs a new exit strategy.
I think back to my conversation with Variety TV critic Alison Herman. About curiosity and cutting cords and the myriad ways we currently consume content. I think about the varying degrees of seriousness surrounding movies and television. How our impression of something – even if we’ve seen it before – is coloured by circumstance. By the smell of popcorn or the taste of aspartame. The comfort of your living room. The sound of weary commuters exiting via the rear door.
ES: Remind me, you’re in Los Angeles yes?
AH: Yeah, I’m in L.A., we’ve got some real June Gloom happening.
ES: I was going to say… Vancouver seems sunnier at the moment.
AH: Oh, significantly. The haze will probably burn off later, but right now it’s just undifferentiated and grey. I usually like it, but I need to air-dry my comforter later because my cat peed on it last night.
ES: Oh no. Like, while you were sleeping?
AH: Yes. He was stressed out because we had some strangers working in the house yesterday, which he did not like. He’s done it before and we’ve taken him to the vet to make sure he’s fine - which he is. He’s just crazy.
ES: What’s his name?
AH: Zuko. We named him after the character from Avatar: The Last Airbender.
ES: Oh really? I would’ve guessed Grease.
AH: That’s a common mistake. But yeah, he’s a big orange cat. He’s a cat with a dog’s personality.
ES: Orange cats are so weird. Sort of like Los Angeles without sunshine…
AH: I grew up in San Diego, so I love that we have our weird version of seasons here. Unending sunshine is monotonous.
ES: For people outside of Los Angeles, what kind of seasons are we talking about? Just sunny or grey?
AH: Well, there’s May grey and June gloom, which confuses a lot of people because if you’re coming from the East Coast those are the best months, the sunniest months. Here, summer starts a little later. It starts getting hot in July, but it stays hot through October. The days are short but they’re hot. The Santa Ana winds are blowing around. October in L.A. feels very specific. And then December through February or March is the rainy season…
ES: What was it like growing up in San Diego?
AH: I grew up there, but my extended family is textbook East Coast Jewish. My mom’s from New York, my dad’s from Montreal. I grew up with the understanding that we live in San Diego, but we’re not really from there. My dad was an academic and he went where he could get a tenure track position. San Diego is ridiculously beautiful but very culturally stunted. Everyone’s into the weather, and it’s a military town so it’s quite conservative. There’s not a lot of culture the way there is in Los Angeles, with the movie business. L.A. is more connected to the outside world. The result is that I grew up feeling under-stimulated. If you’re interested in books and pop culture, that’s not really the city’s vibe. I felt that, as soon as I could, I would leave and go back to “where I’m supposed to be.”
I went to college in New York City and assumed I would stay there forever. But when The Ringer started in 2016 I figured I should be where the action was while the company was starting up, and they’re headquartered in California. I figured I could always move back to New York, but then I got to L.A. and I was shocked at how much I liked it. It’s one of the great shocks of my life: that I wound up back in Southern California. It’s been eight years and counting.
ES: At the risk of sounding totally naïve, does living in Los Angeles, and having that proximity to the entertainment industry actually help your career? Because the world is so interconnected now, what with the internet and all.
AH: I wouldn’t say I need to be here, but I always talk about it in terms of bubbles… The bubble here is one where I speak the language, which I feel very comfortable operating within. I have friends who work in the entertainment industry here in L.A. and they’ll go to parties or social events and say it feels like going to a work happy hour. People are all kind of networking and no one’s really letting loose because we all share a vague professional association. It’s hard to escape that… But I do genuinely appreciate being surrounded by that sort of thing.
I compare it to New York, where the big money industry is finance. It sets the tone for everything. And I felt very oppositional to that; I think it kind of sucks. Like, “Oh the finance bros are everywhere.” In L.A. the big money industry is entertainment. I’m not spending much time with the executives and entertainment lawyers who set the tone from the top down, but it’s nice to have something in common with the people controlling the levers of power.
ES: Did you always want to be a TV critic?
AH: I knew I wanted to be some sort of journalist or writer. I’ve always enjoyed reading nonfiction and wanted a profession where I could constantly ingest and process new information. There was this one-two punch the summer after my freshman year. I read Chuck Klosterman’s Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs, which has this long essay about Friends and how the simulacrum of New York City young adulthood that exists on television is in this weird feedback loop with our impressions of young adulthood and shapes our understanding of what that is. I had a really strong reaction to that essay. I realized I think about that stuff, but had never considered it something anyone would do at a systematic, professional level. I was 18 or 19.
Around the same time, I started interning at the website Flavour Wire, which is now defunct but had a ton of people like Judy Berman, Michelle Dean and Tyler Coates… There were a lot of people I met there who were very influential on me and I was able to get a lot of repetition writing. This was also when TV specifically was in a culturally ascendant place. Breaking Bad and Game of Thrones and Mad Men were on. We now look back on it with a lot of nostalgia, but at the time it felt like “Oh, there’s all these possibilities that are opening up.” If you were interested in going into art criticism, that was a natural field with a lot of growth and interest around it.
ES: I’m curious what your TV setup is right now. Are you a cord cutter? Do you use streaming? Human Pursuits HQ is hardwired with cable…
AH: I am a cord cutter. I’ve never subscribed to cable. I subscribe to Hulu Live which is my go-to for breaking news or award shows. I feel like the primary utility of cable is some combination of sports and news, and neither of those is how I access it. I’m primarily a streaming person.
I get a lot of shows in advance, so I’m not necessarily even watching on Peacock. I’m watching it on the NBC Universal Media Village. Laughs.
ES: I have to assume that’s for the real heads. But OK, in that case, are you streaming right onto the TV? Or are you rocking with the laptop?
AH: I’m not sure if you can see but I’m currently sitting in my little command center. My partner and I live in a two-bedroom apartment and the second bedroom is basically a combo guest room-slash-office. We have a nice sectional couch that serves as my primary workspace. I don’t really work well at a desk. When I lived in a studio, I would straight-up work in bed. I had no problem doing that which left my partner horrified.
ES: That’s sick.
The way I express that enjoyment is by paying attention to [shows] and thinking a lot about them.
AH: But yeah, I would say if it’s something I need to pay focused attention to, I try to watch it on TV, at night… I just did that for House of the Dragon because I’m preparing my review. I often take notes using the app on my phone to quickly jot down whatever I’m thinking. But sometimes, if it’s a more casual program, like Top Chef or a sitcom, I’ll watch it on my laptop because that’s easier. It can feel a little ridiculous to call it up on the big television... Generally, though, I try to be as flattering to the show as I can be.
ES: I think that tension speaks to why I’m interested in your setup. The idea that we consume art as intended, or not. Like watching a movie in a theater versus a plane. It’s probably not what the director had in mind, and yet that’s how so many people experience content.
AH: I remember in the very early days when Apple first launched its streaming service, they were crazy about security. Fair enough, they’re a tech company. But for some reason, when I was watching my screeners for The Morning Show, which is one of the most expensive shows ever because you have Reese Witherspoon and Jennifer Aniston starring… They did not allow you to Chromecast or stream it to your TV, which is my normal way of doing things. Not only that, but you couldn’t full screen on your laptop. I was forced to watch it on a rectangle smaller than an iPad. And I guarantee you, if the showrunners knew this was how critics were ingesting their work, they would flip a table. They’ve since fixed it, but it was silly. This is not how anyone wants things to happen.
ES: Given TV is your job… How often are you re-watching old series? Do you have any sort of comfort viewing or is it all new stuff all the time?
AH: I don’t do much comfort watching. Occasionally I’ll go back to 30 Rock, but… There is a lot of guilt when I do something like that. I could always be watching something new. There’s literally an unlimited amount of TV waiting for me. I’m not always watching things for work. Sometimes it will turn into work, but I don’t always set out with that intention. The way I explain it is that the way I enjoy things, and the way I express that enjoyment, is by paying attention to them and thinking a lot about them. Sometimes my coworker will review a show, and I’ll still watch it and find it interesting, and maybe I’ll write about it afterward. Stuff like that happens a lot. I watch Top Chef because I like food and I like television, but I just had the opportunity to interview the judges, which I wasn’t planning on when the season started. It came up and was interesting to me and was an amazing experience that I was so glad that I got to have.
ES: Where does that tendency to express your affection for things through attention come from? I feel like I do the same thing, but I know so many people who are able to consume art or whatever and not think about it. They know they like it but they maybe don’t even know why. Are we just wired differently?
AH: I was also going to use the term wiring. I think that’s just how certain people are programmed to function. I totally understand why people with hard jobs and responsibilities and kids want to throw something on at the end of the day and not think about it. But I enjoy art as a safe, intermediary place to experience really intense emotions. That’s how I work through stuff. Maybe this thing I’m watching relates to something that’s happened in my life. Rather than thinking about that thing directly, I can have this show to project onto. That’s just how I am, but I know some people are not like that. I can’t argue someone into thinking that way, and I wouldn’t want to, but I can make use of the way I’m wired to try to help people.
The compliment I find the most validating and fulfilling is that my work helps people understand why they had a gut reaction to something. Maybe my 1500-word consideration can make something click for you.
ES: What is the last piece of art that served as an intermediary place for you?
AH: Oh man, there’s so many. I’m reading Eleanor Catton’s novel Birnam Wood right now. It’s set in New Zealand. It’s about a bunch of environmentalists interacting with an American tech billionaire. I read a passage last night about a woman suddenly losing her long-term partner, and it so perfectly expressed the anxieties I’ve had about suddenly losing my own partner… It touched a button and gave me this weird sense of relief… I was seeing my own anxiety realized in this cathartic way, where if it happened in my own life it would be the worst thing ever.
ES: You mentioned you love food. Can you walk me through your Grub Street Diet? What are we eating in a day?
AH: I’m very boring. I have the same breakfast every day. I do chocolate overnight oats because it’s an easy way to get protein and fiber and because I love a sweet breakfast. Chocolate is my favourite flavor. I have some form of it every day.
I generally try to do homemade lunch. In March, I challenged myself to stop going to restaurants for one month. We had just gotten back from New Orleans, and we were going to Italy in April and I wanted to do something healthy that didn’t feel restrictive or like a diet. I only ate home-cooked food and my main takeaway is that I want to try and eat out only when it’s something I will enjoy, rather than because it’s convenient or a habit. I made kra pao last night, which is this Thai ground meat stir fry. I’ll probably have those leftovers today… But we will go out for dinner. Earlier this week we went to Lardeo, which is a trendy Mexican seafood place pretty close to my house.
ES: You interview celebs every now and then. Have you ever done an interview at a restaurant?
AH: Yes, but it’s never been a super notable food situation. In 2018, I interviewed John Mulaney and we went to a restaurant called Little Dom's in Los Feliz. It’s a star-studded area and a lot of famous people live in proximity to there. And Little Dom’s specifically is like, a spot. Jon Hamm has a dedicated booth. And I remember Mulaney’s publicist was like, “Oh, can we meet someone else?” She suggested another restaurant and I was like, “No.” There are so many profiles that specifically happen at Little Dom's. I really wanted to join those ranks.
ES: I would’ve done the same thing. What was Mulaney’s table etiquette like?
AH: He was good. I remember this came up in an Esquire profile he did while promoting The Sack Lunch Bunch. You could tell he’s not really a food person. He was eating for fuel. I think he had, like, yogurt and fruit.
I enjoy art as a safe, intermediary place to experience really intense emotions. That’s how I work through stuff.
ES: Is there anyone else you’d like to break bread with? Padma Lakshmi perhaps?
AH: Oh of course. I was talking with her current and former colleagues for that interview I mentioned and they were quoting her, it sounded amazing. I’m sure I would be incredibly intimidated by Padma Lakshmi. She seems like the most unsettlingly beautiful person. And I mean that as a compliment.
The amazing thing about working for Variety is that a lot of interviews feel very achievable. I just had a wonderful conversation with the actress Brit Marling for our awards podcast. It was 45 minutes, in person, in the studio. At other places that would’ve taken a lot of back and forth. But people really care about Emmys and they know that trade publication readers are the ones voting. It’s a bit of a more straightforward pitch than “Hey I know this is a sports website and a podcast network but here’s why it makes sense for you to talk to us.”
ES: You probably get asked this all the time, but is there a show you’d like to recommend? Maybe something people aren’t paying enough attention to?
AH: I love a show called Scavengers Reign. I put it in my top ten last year, and they just put it on Netflix. It was originally on HBO Max. I think the idea is if it does well, Netflix will invest in a second season. It’s an animated, survival thing where these people who work on a mining ship in space shipwreck on this planet that they have no knowledge of. It’s this incredibly ecologically complex, closed-loop system that can be deadly to outsiders but not in a malicious way. It feels like you’re watching a fictional nature documentary. They’ve clearly thought so rigorously about how this works and taken inspiration from things that exist on Earth. It’s just incredibly creative and immersive and does an amazing job of telling the very human stories of these characters.
ES: When some people hear animation, they clam up. Do you think that’s fair? Animation still has a connotation of childishness, even though I know that’s not true.
AH: Well, frankly, I’ve had bosses and editors who say they don’t like animation. I don’t begrudge anyone for saying “Animation is not my thing.” But there’s so much variety within animation, it can be anything from like comedy to drama to kid stuff to adult stuff. Maybe you just don’t like a specific type of animated show. I don’t count myself as a huge animation person. I don’t have a super strong knowledge base when it comes to anime, for example. But I try to pay attention when people say things are good. I think BoJack Horseman and Tuca and Bertie, are two of the best shows that have come out in the 21st century. They were both very personally important to me and remarkable achievements. I always recommend against total absolutism in any genre; don’t forswear anything because of what it is.
Alison Herman is a TV Critic with Variety. She lives in Los Angeles.