Natasha Rothwell is seeking a friend for the end of the world.
A beloved and fiery social media presence, the writer-actor-producer-showrunner hit a professional high this year with a triumphant return to HBO’s “The White Lotus.” She reprises her role as Belinda Lindsey, a masseuse trying to move on from the broken Season 1 promises of Jennifer Coolidge’s flaky heiress. But in real life, she confesses to Sterling K. Brown that she’s been researching underground doomsday vaults, given the state of global politics.
It’s the perfect topic for Brown, a three-time Emmy winner for projects like “The People v. O.J. Simpson: American Crime Story” and “This Is Us.” Teaming again with creator Dan Fogelman on Hulu’s streaming hit “Paradise,” Brown plays a Secret Service agent living in a city-sized bunker beneath a mountain in Colorado after a catastrophe on Earth. He’s investigating the murder of the U.S. president and trying to find signs of his missing wife aboveground.
Survival is a common thread between the pair, as they’ve navigated a business full of inequities and unstable opportunities for work on-screen and behind the camera. There’s plenty of joy to be had, however, as the two unpack their first time meeting on Issa Rae’s seminal HBO comedy “Insecure.” They also set some healthy boundaries, as Rothwell notes that Brown’s appeal to mature women can sometimes lead to friction — even between her own mother and father.
Sterling K. Brown: You’re so demure and refined. I was [shocked] by the way that you dropped into your wild character on “Insecure” when we first met. You started on that show as a writer?
Natasha Rothwell: Yes. I was called into the office one day, and I thought I was getting in trouble for making too many dick jokes. I remember texting [Issa Rae], “I think I just fucked up.” But they told me they wanted me to play my character Kelli, and I burst into tears.
But you — you’re so charismatic and easy to watch. You almost broke up my parents’ marriage. [My mother] loved “Army Wives.”
Brown: Give me the story.
Rothwell: I thought, “If [Sterling] comes up here and ruins 47 years of marriage, I’m going to be upset.”
Brown: I’m big with a certain set. The older Black women and me, we got a thing. But let’s talk about “The White Lotus.” It’s white; we’re Black. It’s all good.
Rothwell: I was in the HBO family because of “Insecure,” but it was 2020 — peak COVID, pre-vaccination. They were just like, “Who is dumb enough to leave their house right now?” I had a meeting with Mike White, and I’d been a fan of his from “Chuck & Buck” and “Freaks and Geeks.”
But I want to talk about “Paradise.” Are you as scared for the fate of humanity as I am? If you look at my Google search history, you might see a bunker company or two.
Peggy Sirota for Variety
Brown: My wife and I have a bunker in our home. I think a lot of midcentury-modern homes have them, because they were built right after World War II. We sealed it up so the kids wouldn’t be playing down there. It can hold about 30 people.
Rothwell: You have my number, right?
Brown: I got you.
Rothwell: It’s wild how your show flirts with what’s happening now. How close it seems we are to an extinction-level event that is a consequence of humanity.
Brown: Dan Fogelman created it, as he did “This Is Us.” He told me he was writing something with my voice in mind, and said, “Take a look.” If I responded to it, great; if not, no big deal. I wrote him back saying, “Amen.” He thought I said “Amen” because Black people just randomly say “Amen.” He asked what that meant, and I said, “I’m in, dumbass.”
Rothwell: Did he loosely pitch this to you or did you get eyes on the page?
Brown: This is a Fogelman thing, and he’s explained [his process] to me on a podcast that we do for “This Is Us”: He always writes the first one, and then he shows it to the studio. Either they like it or they don’t. His feeling is “I don’t want notes. This is the thing that I’ve conceived. Do you like it or do you not like it? If you don’t, then I can move on.”
Rothwell: “Paradise” is so tonally different from “This Is Us.” To have that kind of artistry expressed by the same man, were you kind of caught off guard by that? Or did you know he had the capacity?
Brown: I knew he had the capacity for anything; he can write his ass off. He’s done “Crazy, Stupid, Love.,” “Life Itself” — dude is all over the place. He, like me, is eager to have opportunities to show the diversity of what he can do.
Rothwell: I was texting with Mr. James Marsden this morning. I asked him about his experience with you, or even for something innocuous that feels like it says a lot about your character. He told me a little anecdote about how you’ve passed up being No. 1 on the call sheet many times because for you it’s not about the numbers but about the work. And so I’ll just reflect that back to you. I think for me, for the longest time, I thought it meant something.
After Season 1 of “The White Lotus” wrapped, I pulled Mike White aside and I got emotional. I went to school for acting like you did — we contain multitudes — but my entry point into the industry was comedy writing for “Saturday Night Live.” It’s been so hard to get the industry to see all of me. And they can be really entrenched in “She’s the funny, fat Black lady. We’re going to put her in this corner, and that’s the box she’s in.” For Mike to give me Belinda, it was like he opened a cage that I felt the edges of. Now I can imagine the freedom of being able to show all of yourself when you see a role that can unlock something in you. And as [a writer], I feel authorship I didn’t have for a long time. I had relegated myself as No. 12 on the call sheet in my real life. Do you know what I mean?
Brown: I do. I look at this acting thing as sort of controlled schizophrenia, in that there’s so many people inside of me, and each character gives me an opportunity to let one aspect of myself out.
Peggy Sirota for Variety
Rothwell: I feel that when I write. The best quote is “Writing is awful, but it’s wonderful to have written.” The process can be painful — it feels like an exorcism of sorts, for me to be able to put pen to paper and to allow aspects of my personality to bleed in all the characters. It’s also such an exercise in control, because you have to be restrained and not just be indulgent and make it all about you — it has to be about the subtext of what you’re exploring.
Brown: Is there joy in just acting, because you wear so many hats? And being on location so far removed from everybody?
Rothwell: I was in post for [my Hulu series] “How to Die Alone” when I went to Thailand. I felt like, “I don’t got to worry about nothing. Something wrong with catering? Don’t care.” For Season 3 of “Lotus,” I’m just protecting Belinda; I’m holding her safe.
Brown: We are blessed. What is it like for you to be working? Because we all have friends that are in this business and not as blessed right now. There’s been a contraction. How is your community reflecting that contraction back to you?
Rothwell: The contraction is not just being observed, it’s felt. “How to Die Alone” only had one season. I see my friends who are caterers, costumers, makeup artists. I want to make sure they’re going to survive this great contraction. I just got back from the TED conference in Vancouver, and it’s terrifying about what we’re up against as artists to protect our work and to make sure that AI isn’t just generating versions of talents that have been curated over years and years of study and apprenticeship.
Brown: I think we’re made of strong stuff. I also remind myself that the industry is just 100 years old. When I first started, there was a thing called pilot season. There was many a network drama. There was many a serialized. There were 22 to 24 episodes. Now we’re doing six or eight. And so much has left Los Angeles.
Rothwell: There was a game show shooting near us in Thailand.
Brown: I was just working in Australia, and there were seven other productions living in my hotel.
Rothwell: There’s a little bit of “Molly, you in danger, girl” about it all.
Peggy Sirota for Variety
Brown: Speaking of Belinda and the last “White Lotus,” she’s in a moral conundrum because she’s [avoiding] a man she knows by another name who was not good to his wife. You ultimately wind up approaching him, and he hits you with an indecent proposal. What would Natasha do in Belinda’s situation? Take the money and run?
Rothwell: I think that Belinda saw an opportunity to get something she fundamentally believed she deserved. She’s a moral center for the show. I’m scared for her, because I do think karma is real and the money is blood money.
That storyline was my pitch.
Brown: Was it really?
Rothwell: It was my pitch. Listen, this is why I love Mike White. Originally it was Belinda’s son, Zion, running the show. I told Mike I really wanted to see Belinda have agency in this moment. Can she take over the negotiation in some way? What is an authentic way for her to show that she’s pushing her chips in along with her son? Being able to show that turn, she sees that she has power over a white man — the kind of man that she’s been rubbing the backs of for a long time.
Brown: Is she breaking bad?
Rothwell: I don’t know that she’s breaking bad, but I think she feels that there’s an opportunity here. I also come from a place of great empathy. I remember when I was first able to not think about money 24/7. I used to carry around a check in my wallet when I was fucking broke. I wrote it for the amount of my student loans just to say, “Someday I’m going to be able to [pay this].”
Brown: Did the money Belinda got also quell her on the idea of going into partnership with Pornchai [played by Dom Hetrakul]?
Rothwell: That pisses me off. People are just like, “Oh, you just left Pornchai on the side of the road.” She fucked the dude one night. She had a one-night stand. She owed him nothing. Belinda had an opportunity to betray herself again, but no. Circumstances changed.
For you, your performance contains so much vulnerability and selflessness in moments. How do you find that, when I think so often the really human default is fear and “I got to save me”?
Brown: My character is someone who’s been without his best friend and partner for three years. He’s incomplete. And he’s raising two children by himself, knowing that this wasn’t how it was supposed to be. When he’s introduced to the idea that his family could be reunited —
Rothwell: He paused when he was in that shower with your co-star Sarah Shahi. I really need to let you know … [Rothwell shows her leg suggestively]
Brown: Peloton. I’m 49 years old, and the fact that anybody wants to see 49-year-old booty, it makes me happy.
Production: BAUIE+RAD; Production Design: Francisco Vargas
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