In the far corner of his backyard in Eastside L.A., Jake Johnson hand-built an 8-by-12-foot studio cabin where he does most of his work. Sure, he needs to duck to pass through the petite doorway — roughly a foot short thanks to a minor snafu in his original flooring plan — but it’s cozy and rustic and has borne witness to some of the more fruitful years of the 45-year-old’s Hollywood career. “The house is dominated by them,” says Johnson, affectionately gesturing in the direction of the 9-year-old twin daughters he shares with his wife of 12 years. “So, when I need to work, I come here.”
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The Chicago native is best known for his seven-season stint playing confident idiot Nick Miller on the Fox comedy New Girl. But he’s leveraged his sitcom success into a unique résumé — rejecting his agents’ plans for a blockbuster track, like the one taken by contemporaries Chris Pratt and John Krasinski, in favor of a quieter life of big characters in smaller projects (see swarthy porn publisher Doug Renetti in Starz’s resurrected Minx, returning July 21), pay-dirt voice work (Sony’s Spider-Verse franchise) and writing, producing and starring in a string of small features. His latest, Self Reliance, marks his directorial debut. The bizarre comedic thriller lands on Hulu in September after a sampling in theaters.
Relaxed in his cabin on a late June morning, Johnson expresses no regrets about his Hollywood path. A guy who paid rent on his first Los Angeles apartment by playing poker, he still seems happy gambling on himself.
You’ve spoken over the years about loving the work but not necessarily loving being the public face of it. So, why star in your directorial debut?
I’ve tried to get things made for years, and they always go away. Not the Joe Swanberg movies — Drinking Buddies, Digging for Fire — because we self-finance those. But when I get a little bit bigger and I’m not in it — whether it’s a pilot for Apple or the scripts that Damon Wayans Jr. and I wrote — my ideas and my execution have no value to studios. I simply had no idea how to get this movie made without me in it. At my age and in this time, I don’t have a lot more shots at directing. I think I’ll have more as an actor, but there’s not a huge demand for a movie like this now. So, to make a $5 million project, I can star in it.
Is there any real demand for a $5 million movie right now?
It’s tricky. I’m someone who usually goes under $2 million. But if I make Win It All for $700,000, and I get Joe Lo Truglio, Aislinn Derbez and Keegan-Michael Key to star in it with me, we know we’ll sell to a streamer for at least $1 million. If you go to festivals, maybe you get $3 million. We sold that [to Netflix] for $3.5 million and were thrilled. The $5 million scares me because it feels like it could fall apart at any moment. Initially, just Paramount was going to distribute Self Reliance. We weren’t even for sale. But Hulu came in real aggressive with $8 million. Theatrical is going to be a thing [for two weeks], though it’s really just to market. But when you think of it, one episode of a TV show costs $8 million. So, I hear the people talking about how this era is so bad for films, but that’s if your goal is to compete with Captain USA in a cineplex.
Any concerns about theatrical?
Not if the goal is to make a movie that you really love and so long as people watch it. Not everybody needs to watch it, but I want some random 19-year-old girl in college to see it and go, “That’s my movie!” — the way I felt watching Rushmore. I can pretend that I feel more pressure, but I have failed so much in this business. I’ve been in things that I thought were going to hit big, and nobody saw them.
Like what?
I shot a pilot for Apple with Michael Showalter and Josh Greenbaum. It was one of those magic pilots that was starting to circulate, and everybody seeing it was like, “Tone is perfect!” “Why thank you … I’m finally getting the goddamn respect I deserve.” I didn’t even think there was an option of it not getting picked up. My only thought was, “How do they tell The Morning Show that they just got knocked off the Apple pedestal? I just feel bad for Jen Aniston!” (Laughs.) In my head, I’d already won every award and changed the game. Then I get the call that they’re not moving forward. You panic. Make all the calls, saying you’ll shop it elsewhere. And then, very quickly, you realize it’s dead.
Does that stuff still bum you out?
My failures hurt and my successes feel good, but they’ve all mushed into one thing. Nothing feels stand-alone anymore. Everything feels like one really weird 15-year career. This movie is just the baby I love the most right now.
Are your actual daughters old enough to watch any of your stuff?
Yeah, but they’re truly not fans. Deeply not fans. (Laughs.)
Not even Spider-Verse?
They like Spider Gwen, but this world is just not that cool to them. It’s weird to live here, you know? It’s weird that celebrity exists. Last night, I visited Mike Cera at the Four Seasons. He was there for the Barbie junket. And, all of a sudden, I said to him, “Do we get to see Margot Robbie?” He’s like, “Dude, roll off.” (Laughs.) It’s weird! But, growing up here, my kids just don’t care. Though, they really love the idea of Minx because there’s nudity. They know that it’s “the penis show,” and that they’re not allowed to watch.
As a producer, do you have additional insight on Minx being pulled unceremoniously at Max?
I found out with everybody else when the news broke. It was more of an existential hit, for me. It wasn’t creative or personal. It was just a huge corporation doing a snaky numbers move. The more these people keep pushing, the less it’s about art and creativity and the more it’s about data. Fucking gross.
You obviously finished filming the season. Did the news impact the mood on set?
Our cast is so sweet, so new generation. On New Girl, which will always be my base, that was my generation and we were rattier. No one acted vulnerable. If we’d been canceled, we all would’ve been sailors about it. “OK, well, then, fuck Fox!” With this group, there was just a sadness in the air. I’ve become a veteran, so I contacted a friend at Lionsgate and he explained that we weren’t dead. This show was lucrative for the studio domestically and internationally. There were already three streamers showing interest. The question wasn’t if we’d find a home. It was, “Who wants us the most and why?”
Who wants “the penis show”?
Yeah. And Starz wants dicks! I heard about the other places, and I thought, “I don’t think they want dicks.” (Laughs.) I think they wanted it just to see if it hit. So, I was told from the beginning that I could reassure castmembers. I just couldn’t be the goof that goes on social media and says, “Don’t worry, we’re good!” But, like, did anybody sign up for Minx to be on HBO Max?
A streamer that no longer exists.
That’s what I mean! Let’s be real. Does anybody have loyalty to any streamer? Does anyone come to this town and say, “I want to work with great directors, Meryl Streep and Quibi?” Nobody cares! You want to be where they put up a lot of money, market and care. If a new streamer comes tomorrow and pays double for my next project, I’m interested.
You’ve been a victim of two un-renewals, now. That’s got to be a concerning trend.
For Stumptown, we had a new showrunner and a whole new room. It was going to be a totally different show in a very exciting way. Everything was building. Every single episode has a new love interest for Cobie [Smulders’ character], kissing and fight scenes every week. Then I get word that the amount of COVID testing they need to do is wild. They have no idea how to do any of it with social distancing. So we got a very honest call where they just tell us that the cost of COVID made it so high that we’d need like, Seinfeld-in-the-’90s success to justify making season two. I got it. Also, all of our fees were guaranteed for 13 episodes. So, thank you so much for the payment. (Laughs.)
When you moved to L.A., you were paid to play poker at Hollywood Park. Can you briefly explain how the hell that works?
In California, the casino cannot pay you because it’s not a real casino. It’s a gaming room. There’s no house. So, I would sit at the tables and essentially represent the casino — playing the way the company wants me to play, with their money.
That sounds like the mob.
Kind of? It was called “network management,” and it was under this Chinese company. Everything was unclear. My training was in an office space that vanished after I was done. It wasn’t a lot of money, but there were bonuses. But then I booked a commercial and got paid $20,000 just to be in a photograph …
No acting required?
I literally went like this (smiles, with a double thumbs up) with this big mustache in the picture. I wasn’t even in the union. So, I go into this room and it’s just me and a photographer. Honestly, I thought I was going to be molested … and if this is my casting couch story, how boring! A local Yahoo! commercial. (Laughs.) But then it actually aired, and I think I made another $25,000 in the next two months. My brain exploded. I didn’t leave L.A. for eight years straight, not even for holidays. There’s so much gold in these hills! What a game! It’s the best business in the world.
What did you learn from your supporting roles in blockbusters like Jurassic World and The Mummy?
There was a funny moment during the Let’s Be Cops era, when that movie was making a ton of money and New Girl was really popular. I had a lot of meetings with studios and saw slates, and they were asking what I wanted and what my path was. So, I had a big sit-down with my agents because my wife was pregnant. The kids were coming. I hadn’t stopped working in three years. It didn’t feel right. I wasn’t into it.
I bet they loved that.
They said, “What do you mean? Everything is going as planned. We’re getting bigger and bigger opportunities.” So, I asked for a breakdown of the model and the goal of this path I was on. Basically, it was this: You do TV in order to get movies. If the movies make money, you get bigger parts. Then, the movies get bigger with your parts. And you do press in order to get the next movie. I told them I didn’t want that. That was the moment everything got pulled back, and I haven’t said yes to a studio lead.
That takes restraint, I imagine.
It doesn’t if you’re not feeling it. And I’m not saying it’s bad if you get your self-worth from this stuff. Culturally, we pretend it’s bad to do that. But I think it’s wonderful if you like it. I just want a very regular life. And when everything was popping, I’d go to a restaurant and it would be weird for people to notice me.
Any egregious example?
I went to dinner with Tom Cruise in Africa when we were doing The Mummy. We had an entire meal and I couldn’t believe that people didn’t approach him. But when we walk out, his security makes an announcement. The restaurant stops operation, they all follow outside and line up. He takes a photo with everybody. We found out later they’d told the staff, “Let him enjoy his meal and then he’ll take all your photos.” That was it for me. I don’t want that. I love being a highly respected second-tier player. I love being next to Michael Jordan, but I don’t want his shots.
Who do you go to for advice?
Asking for more money [on Self Reliance], that was learning from Phil Lord. The thing I learned most about being in [Spider-Verse] with Phil is that he doesn’t stop. He works so hard. And he’s OK if everybody thinks he’s being weird. If the deadline is Aug. 4, I’m like, “Sony’s serious!” But if Phil wants to do something on Aug. 10, and he thinks the movie will be better for it, why wouldn’t he?
Are there roles you want that you’re not getting offered?
Selfishly, I don’t audition, so I don’t get really great parts put in front of me. The only things that come to you, if you don’t audition, are basically what you’ve done before but a little different. Like my run of characters like Nick Miller [on New Girl]: “So, he’s a sad sack. He’s depressed. But what he learns in meeting Claire …” Gotcha! (Laughs.) There’s always a scene like, “He’s looking at himself in the mirror thinking, ‘Is this it?’ Multiple question marks!”
So what’s next?
I want Minx to get a third season. I really want to see [my character] Doug in the ’80s, to see what happens when he does cocaine for the first time. Right now, I feel like there’s an ocean of stuff in a Doug type. If Minx goes away, I want to play another salesman. I’ll probably go do some $700,000 indie where I play a character named Ralphie or Eddie. I also fundamentally believe that in this business, we’re on a weird carousel. It goes around, you get comfortable in your seat, and then a foot just comes and kicks you off. We never know when that’s going to happen, and I really don’t want to get kicked off yet. It’s too fun.
Interview edited for length and clarity.
This story first appeared in the July 14 issue of The Hollywood Reporter magazine. Click here to subscribe.
