Hannah Einbinder and Chloe Fineman have come a long way since they became friends eight years ago during an open mic night at a wine bar in Glendale. Einbinder, the daughter of…
Perfection is rarely achieved in movies, but this heaven-sent concert doc hits the sweet spot. Over two days in January 1972, the Queen of Soul, Aretha Franklin — she was 29 at the time — sweeps into the New Temple Missionary Baptist Church in Watts in front of a congregation and testifies to God in song. The blessed thing took nearly half a century to come out because director Sydney Pollack failed to sync the image with the sound. Then digital angels stepped in, and glory, glory, hallelujah!
Perfection is rarely achieved in movies, but this heaven-sent concert doc hits the sweet spot. Over two days in January 1972, the Queen of Soul, Aretha Franklin — she was 29 at the time — sweeps into the New Temple Missionary Baptist Church in Watts in front of a congregation and testifies to God in song. The blessed thing took nearly half a century to come out because director Sydney Pollack failed to sync the image with the sound. Then digital angels stepped in, and glory, glory, hallelujah!
Perfection is rarely achieved in movies, but this heaven-sent concert doc hits the sweet spot. Over two days in January 1972, the Queen of Soul, Aretha Franklin — she was 29 at the time — sweeps into the New Temple Missionary Baptist Church in Watts in front of a congregation and testifies to God in song. The blessed thing took nearly half a century to come out because director Sydney Pollack failed to sync the image with the sound. Then digital angels stepped in, and glory, glory, hallelujah!
Perfection is rarely achieved in movies, but this heaven-sent concert doc hits the sweet spot. Over two days in January 1972, the Queen of Soul, Aretha Franklin — she was 29 at the time — sweeps into the New Temple Missionary Baptist Church in Watts in front of a congregation and testifies to God in song. The blessed thing took nearly half a century to come out because director Sydney Pollack failed to sync the image with the sound. Then digital angels stepped in, and glory, glory, hallelujah!
Perfection is rarely achieved in movies, but this heaven-sent concert doc hits the sweet spot. Over two days in January 1972, the Queen of Soul, Aretha Franklin — she was 29 at the time — sweeps into the New Temple Missionary Baptist Church in Watts in front of a congregation and testifies to God in song. The blessed thing took nearly half a century to come out because director Sydney Pollack failed to sync the image with the sound. Then digital angels stepped in, and glory, glory, hallelujah!
Perfection is rarely achieved in movies, but this heaven-sent concert doc hits the sweet spot. Over two days in January 1972, the Queen of Soul, Aretha Franklin — she was 29 at the time — sweeps into the New Temple Missionary Baptist Church in Watts in front of a congregation and testifies to God in song. The blessed thing took nearly half a century to come out because director Sydney Pollack failed to sync the image with the sound. Then digital angels stepped in, and glory, glory, hallelujah!
Perfection is rarely achieved in movies, but this heaven-sent concert doc hits the sweet spot. Over two days in January 1972, the Queen of Soul, Aretha Franklin — she was 29 at the time — sweeps into the New Temple Missionary Baptist Church in Watts in front of a congregation and testifies to God in song. The blessed thing took nearly half a century to come out because director Sydney Pollack failed to sync the image with the sound. Then digital angels stepped in, and glory, glory, hallelujah!
Perfection is rarely achieved in movies, but this heaven-sent concert doc hits the sweet spot. Over two days in January 1972, the Queen of Soul, Aretha Franklin — she was 29 at the time — sweeps into the New Temple Missionary Baptist Church in Watts in front of a congregation and testifies to God in song. The blessed thing took nearly half a century to come out because director Sydney Pollack failed to sync the image with the sound. Then digital angels stepped in, and glory, glory, hallelujah!
Hannah Einbinder and Chloe Fineman have come a long way since they became friends eight years ago during an open mic night at a wine bar in Glendale. Einbinder, the daughter of original “Saturday Night Live” cast member Laraine Newman, now trades wits with Jean Smart on Max’s “Hacks,” while Fineman took her outlandish celebrity impressions from Instagram to NBC’s “SNL.” Here, the two discuss how “Hacks” deals with aging in a scene where Smart’s character, Deborah, takes a bad fall, how Fineman’s Melania Trump impression got her cast in “Megalopolis” and what it means that comedy is “dying.”
HANNAH EINBINDER: The first time I saw you, I was like, “Well, she will be on ‘Saturday Night Live,’ of course.”
CHLOE FINEMAN: I had a clown phase. Then I got dumped by my clown teacher. Then I was like, “Maybe I’ll go after ‘Saturday Night Live.’” I remember you getting [the Just for Laughs festival], and then it was off to “Hacks.” But you tested for us.
EINBINDER: I did a screen test for “Saturday Night Live.” I auditioned for “Hacks” maybe three days before the initial COVID stay-at-home orders. The rest of the process was over Zoom, and then there was one very high-risk screen test. We had a screen between us, just me and Jean talking through it on a dark, empty soundstage.
FINEMAN: It’s interesting for me to watch, because I know every person on the show.
EINBINDER: They try to really stack the show with comedians. We’ve been talking about how comedy is kind of dying. A lot of venues are shuttering. It’s a different landscape. There are a lot of factors, definitely the internet and TikTok. The in-person spaces dwindle.
FINEMAN: It’s a double-edged sword. At open mics, I would be the only girl. Like, “This is creepy. I’m going downtown alone.” When I found I could show stuff online, I was like, “I don’t have to put myself in this weird environment.” But meeting you and other women in comedy was such a gift.
EINBINDER: Who’s your [favorite] class of “SNL”?
FINEMAN: Kristen Wiig, Bill Hader. But I really freaked out when Molly Shannon hosted, because that was childhood for me. My first year, Will Ferrell hosted. I thought I did fine. Turns out I bombed the hardest I’ve ever bombed. At the end, he was like, “Hang in there. It gets better.” How did Christina Hendricks [guest starring in “Hacks”] happen? She’s a Republican psychopath who wants to piss on you.
EINBINDER: I’m the biggest “Mad Men” fan on planet Earth. I’m like, “What do you mean Christina Hendricks is doing this part?”
FINEMAN: One of my favorite episodes in the new season is when you and Deborah get lost in the woods together.
EINBINDER: Jean’s talked about this: It feels so true to everyone’s experience when you get up there [in age]. The visual language of the episode feels different from our normal upbeat style.
FINEMAN: The fall … it was too real.
EINBINDER: It was so frightening. And we had to do it over and over again. I felt so bad for the incredible stuntwoman. We do have women who are both stand-up comedians and of Jean’s generation in the writers’ room, and the best thing to hear is that there are women out there who feel seen by that. Wait. Queen, you’re in a Francis Ford Coppola movie? What the h?
FINEMAN: Sometimes people go to weird shows that you don’t expect. It was 2019. I was [performing a sketch of] Ivana Trump and Melania FaceTiming. And I guess Francis was there, and he offered it from my weird Melania thing. You just never know who’s there.
EINBINDER: How do you find the transition, being in that mode of sketch comedy and going into something that’s totally different and there’s no laughs?
FINEMAN: I weirdly feel more at home in the acting stuff, because I’m really late in life to comedy. I didn’t do my first comedy show until I was 27. I didn’t get “SNL” until 30. So for me, it was back to what I love.
EINBINDER: It would be the opposite for me, because I had no real aspirations of acting. And just doing comedy in L.A., people are in the crowd like, “I’m a Hollywood agent, and I think you can do more.” It’s similar at its core, but getting to collaborate and laugh with the homies, it’s beautiful.
FINEMAN: Comedy felt freeing to enter because it didn’t matter what you looked like, how old you were. None of us are the same, and we’re all auditioning for the same thing. When I tried to do acting, it was me and a bunch of 16-year-old Russian models. That was harder.
Variety’s Actors on Actors is presented by Peacock.
