Rich Roll (4:42)
So there was a brief chapter of my life, this period of time in which I was beginning to kind of give my curiosity wider birth to explore new projects and do interesting and different types of creative things, while also looking for kind of ways out of my lawyer career. But also before the full blown existential crisis meets health scare incident that basically precipitated the chapter that I'm most well known for, which was my period of lifestyle upheaval and then ultra endurance competition. But the phase I'm talking about right now is a phase of my life that I actually don't think I've talked about very much. It all went down when I was working as an entertainment lawyer, no longer in the big giant law firms, but in a small firm that I had formed with a couple friends at the time. I was working with writers and producers in the then, I think very exciting independent film space. And I actually had a fair amount of fun doing this. Probably the most fun that you could have as a lawyer at Least in my opinion. I have very fond memories of attending the Sundance Film Festival and being energized by supporting and just by being around young artists, young filmmakers who were so devoted to realizing their dreams. And there was something very inspirational about that. I have this one memory that really stands out among many great memories attending the Sundance Film Festival. And it was for the premiere of a film that was called Love Liza. And on one side of me, sitting in the audience was my friend Gordy, who had written that movie and would go on to win the Waldo Salt Screenwriting Award that year at Sundance for the Best screenplay. And sitting on the other side of me was Gordo's brother Phil, as in Philip Seymour Hoffman. And then next to him was their mother, Marilyn, who was a judge in Rochester at the time and somebody I had become friends with. And I guess I'm sharing that because this was the kind of experience I realized that, you know, kind of a peak experience that no corporate law firm was ever going to be able to deliver to me. And another reason why it was a somewhat enjoyable period of time for me was because it sated the appetite of my inner shadow artist. Because I think what I really wanted to do back then was what my clients were doing, which was write and direct low budget independent movies. But that was too risky, far too scary. Whereas being just in the proximity of other people that were doing it felt fun, but safe, you know, because it gives this illusion of being part of something that you're actually kind of not. Anyway, this fascination with film that I had wasn't exactly a new idea. I'd been a PA on sets when I lived in New York City for a couple years at the beginning of the 90s. I attended NYU for a filmmaking intensive one summer. But steeping myself in it as a lawyer began inching me towards stepping more into the art form itself. So I did what you do when you live in LA as a requirement, which is to begin writing a screenplay. So that's what I did in collaboration with my wife Julie, later with my friend Drew, on the script that I would truncate into something that in 2003 I could realize as a short film that I was capable of directing. That film was called Down Dog, which was like this 15 minute, very broad satire on the very ripe to be made fun of yoga scene in LA at that time. And the film's fine, I guess. It's not like I've gone back and watched it. Parts of it, I suppose, might hold up. But I will say that there was a very brief moment in time back then when the script, the feature version of it, caught the eye of Matthew McConaughey's then production company called JK Levin. And it appeared for like a millisecond, like maybe this project would turn into a movie that would get made with Double M in the starring role. Of course, that all quickly ended. That script ended back up in a drawer and I would get interested in other things, things that would eventually lead me here. Anyway, I bring all of this up only because this little film that I made, Down Dog, ended up playing a bunch of film festivals. It even won an award here and there. And one of those festivals was the Bend film festival in 2000. And at that festival, the feature that everyone was talking about was this film called the Puffy Chair. It was a super low budget lo fi indie production by first time writer directors Jay and Mark Duplass, who also happened to be brothers. I made a point to see it and I knew immediately that the guys behind it were, unlike me, very much the real deal. Jay was not there in person. He was with the Puffy Chair film at another festival that weekend, but Mark was. And I got a chance to meet him, got to hang out with him a little bit. And so, partly because of that, I've always felt emotionally invested in these brothers, maybe more than I should. And watching them succeed, seeing them rise to such a high level in the crazy business that is the movie industry, has been a real joy for me over the years. These two have made tons of great stuff, but these days they're off doing separate things. Part of this sort of conscious uncoupling of sorts, in which Mark has gone on to become basically a legitimate movie star. Jay in his own right, a producer and executive producer on like a zillion television and other projects out there. He started acting for the first time. You should check him out in season two of HBO's Industry, which is a show where he plays a hedge fund guy. He does a great job. In addition to that show just being next level, his performance is very unique and memorable. But the thing that Jay had not done is direct a film all on his own was this hole in his experience that he began to fill when he came across this improv guy, Michael Strassner, by way of Michael's short comedic videos on social media. And Michael's also this guy who happens to have this pretty extraordinary addiction and recovery story. These two connected, Jay and Michael. They concocted a plan to work together and came up with a creative idea for a movie that they ended up co writing for Strasner to star in and for Jay to finally solo direct. The culmination of this collaboration is the Baltimore Ons, which is this really great, heartfelt little indie that could with all the elements that bring up all of my Sundance nostalgia, and a film that is getting not only unanimous rays, but also what is almost impossible for a tiny feature in 2025, which is a theatrical release, meaning you can and should see it immediately in theaters. So this one is a little bit of everything. It's an old school what it was like, what happened, and what it's like now. Miracle of a sobriety story. It's an artist origin story. It's a state of the union on filmmaking and television in the streaming area. It's about venturing creative and it's about finding your voice, along with all the kind of hows and whys of cultivating and sharing it. This one plays a little bit like a James Fry Craig Maude mashup, along with a few other recent guests that fall squarely into the old school category, which as I've been talking about, is really the direction that I'm interested in moving the show more towards, more so than I have in recent years, at least in part because I'm a little fatigued. I'm a little bit bored by the recent over emphasis of podcasting on things like protocols for self optimization, this reverse engineering of podcasts that are turning into conversations that are basically predetermined. And I'm not crazy about that. And I really want to intentionally fall back in love with what led me to fall in love with this thing so long ago, which is just honest and open ended conversations informed by real life stories, earnest stories that are lifted from real life lived experience. Because to me, I mean, that's the shit, man. And I actually think that this is what we're missing and right now especially what I think we need more of. Or at least I know that I do because it leads to what we happen to be lacking, in my opinion as a culture right now, which is more empathy and more understanding. So that's what we're going to do today. And this is what I'm going to focus on more going forward. So if you're into that, great. If you're not, that's awesome too. There's lots of other stuff out there for you. Have at it. But here I'm going to do my best to keep it true, to be true to what moves me, true to what I think is important when it comes to getting our head around the human condition. And I think this conversation is exactly that. So with that, this is me, J. Duplass and Michael Strossner. So have at it. Well, this is a big moment for both of you guys. It's your first solo directing effort. And, you know, Michael, obviously this is like a launchpad for you. So that's gotta be like, you know, like, it's wild, very cool, but possibly deranging. Also, you don't keep yourself cool, grounded.