When Natasha Lyonne really opens up to you, with that smoky pulse-and-throb of New York City in her voice and that unmistakable “I’ve worked with Woody Allen AND Pee Wee Herman, I’ve partied like Amy Winehouse, I’ve done five movies this year, and I’m not quite sure where I am right now,” air about her, you just kind of have to stop and think, Jesus. This woman read my diary. She is the dark and blossoming star I secretly am in my head.

Who is Natasha Lyonne? When I think of Natasha Lyonne, I think of these things: Woody Allen (she played his daughter in the musical Everyone Says I Love You when she was a but wee lass), “Brooke” (the porky chick with dreadlocks from Party Monster), and American Pie (sassy Jessica), smoking too much, drinking too much, and peculiar scenes of alleged dog molestation. None of her roles were huge in these things, but I remember her in them all. But when I really think of her, I really think of Big Apples, and that singular type of New York City famous that is really quite so very different from LA/Hollywood/Anywhere Else-types of famous—the type of famous that has cab rides and saxophones and pizza-at-3am in it and you better not give-it-any-bullshit—a type of famous that scares me a little and fascinates me a lot. It’s a vibe that comes off of her in waves.

So we’re sitting in the W Hotel, and it’s just a little awkward. She is in town for just twenty hours to attend a SIFF screening of The Immaculate Conception of Little Dizzle, a Seattle-filmed movie that also has Sean Nelson in it for a minute. I am here to talk to her about it…

I am of course far too seasoned in the whole famous-person-meeting thing to be star-struck (because, like, I’ve met almost all of them), and never by anyone with star-wattage less than a Jolie-Pitt. And God knows, she’s no Oscar Winner or anything. But I am completely enraptured by her anyway, I refuse to justify myself. Her mere presence is very magnetic, in the way only a natural-born celebrity’s mere presence can be. She’s kind of distracted, she seems a little nervous (which is quite surprising), and she’s finishing up a text message on her not-an-I Phone. I resist the impulse to to jump up and lick the back of her neck—like a psychoactive toad—just, you know, to see what would happen. She finishes texting and looks at me.

“Yo, Adrian.” She looks at my socks. “Can I tell you something?” Um, no. Don’t be absurd. “I always said that all I wanted was a man with Argyle socks and a sense of humor.”

Oh, Jesus.

She looks lovely—just-off-the-plane harried, indeed, but totally together. Her handbag and her sunglasses are enormous. She’s so completely her. We talk about my socks for a minute. She wants to know why mine don’t match. (It always comes up.) I explain my whole philosophy: if one has the time, interest, or inclination to bother matching up one’s socks, one should reevaluate one’s priorities. She agrees with me in principal. “I’ve always been a big fan of people who brush their teeth in the dark.”

I adore her.

We talk about a lot of things. She mentions at least four books she’s recently read, and a list of old movies. She wants to know if I’ve ever seen Ladies and Gentlemen, the Fabulous Stains with young Dianne Keaton (or maybe Dianne Lane) and Laura Dern. I haven’t. She tells me about it: Young Laura Dern and Dianne Keaton (or maybe Lane) form and all-girl punk band, madness ensues. It’s from 1981. I ask her about Little Dizzle. She doesn’t know much. She hasn’t seen it yet! “Tonight will be my first time,” she confesses, referring to the screening at the Egyptian. She says she’s a little anxious about it. (Negro, please. As if the city that spawned the Space Needle and Courtney Love could do anything but adore her.)

Natasha has had quite a decade, which has included a fair amount of time in the tabloids for various substance-addled manias and some serious life-threatening issues. But these days, “Life is all about NOT making a splash,” she says. And she has had quite a professionally prolific year to prove how much of a splash she’s not making—she’s done five films, including Dizzle. “I’ve done ‘em, yes, but let’s see if they ever come out. That’s another thing,” she jokes. Plus, she really doesn’t like watching her own movies. “Who needs the suffering?” But when I bring up one movie—the Woody Allen movie—then she really gets going.

“Growing up Jewish in New York, Woody Allen was like a God…I was 16, I was a nervous wreck, I was rebellious, and Woody Allen isn’t exactly a nurturer…”

“I have pretty big self-esteem issues, Adrian, I’m not even going to try to hide it,” she tells me. I confess myself that if I ever looked too closely in the mirror, I’d never leave the damn house. She says that she knows exactly what I mean. She confesses that she’s near-sighted, and that she goes out without her glasses sometimes, just so there is a nice buffer between her and the world, and she doesn’t have to focus on the details. I do the exact same thing! If she weren’t Jewish as a box of lox, I’d begin to wonder if we weren’t separated at birth…

She worries that she is getting herself into trouble when the conversation meanders into sordid, gossipy territory like Lindsay Lohan (I ask her if she thinks Lindsay is a real lesbian or if she’s faking it—she says she doesn’t care), or living in Alphabet City with “her people” (ie, addled street freaks), and/or being “A child star cliché,” and she keeps peeking over at her manager to make sure she’s not in trouble. The less gossip, the better. She talks about professionalism, and learning to be a professional, and about her love for making movies, and Barbara Stanwyck. “Yes, I’m a child-star cliché,” she says. “It’s widely documented.”

“But I’m a happy cliché.”

Our hour together rushes by. We ride the elevator out together. She finally puts her big sunglasses back on, clutches her huge handbag, and makes for the exit, taking New York-vibes and delicious scandal with her—and leaving a glittery, apple-shaped hole in my smokeless heart.

And the rest is silence.

Adrian Ryan is a Stranger senior contributing writer and nightlife columnist. He has been writing for The Stranger since late 1997, and he’s pretty sure he still hasn’t been paid for some really early...

26 replies on “Beauty in the Break Down; The Dark Blossoming of Natasha Lyonne”

  2. who?

    saw the movie – two women, the blonde or brunette?

    neither were very good – pose and talk, no acting – bimbo roles

  5. Whew – if you think she’s “famous,” you obviously haven’t been around as many famous people as you think you have. And BTW, from someone who’s been around a lot of famous people: There’s no such thing as an “aura of fame.” You’re most likely confusing that with an enormous ego. Those folks are definitely out there; unfortunately, they’re also the real assholes. Thankfully, they’re in the minority.

  7. Honestly, Natasha Lyonne was the absolute worst actor in that film. Every scene she was in took the movie down a notch, and I’m a fan of her work usually! She didn’t seem present at all in the film. Can you please give her a real critique instead of a blowjob, Adrian? I know you want to be famous, but god damn… seriously? The film was good, but she was not. I guess it’s enough that she shows up and has a name.

  9. Well – it’s been a helluva long time since anyone at The Stranger wrote as interesting a piece as this one! What a thoughtful and well-written article that was totally FUN TO READ!

    It’s GREAT to have you back!! In a world filled with designer-knock-off writing style, you remain the best at what you do – a total original

    There is one writer at The Stranger in particular who continues to copy your style and your side splitting, one-of-a-kind phrases.

    Somebody needs to tell her that there is only ONE Adrian Ryan.

  11. First of all, commenters? Natasha Lyonne is, in fact, famous. If you don’t know who she is it’s just because you’re too young to remember when she was on her upswing. Or you were hiding under a rock in 1999. She did a couple of indy films that got a lot of good press, she did a couple of mainstream films that pretty much everyone saw. That Slums of Beverly Hills flick had a trailer on every VHS tape manufactured in 1998. So yes, famous at one time and, if you were around for that time, still famous.

    But then she cratered because she’s a junkie, and the impact actually seems to have sent tachyons back in time to erase her early career, while a shockwave of awfulness carries her face-first into movies like Blade 3.

    That said, Adrian, everyone I spoke to who met her last night, or who saw her at the Q&A said she was drunk and incoherent, which is pretty much what people have been saying about her for the last 8 years. So I’m looking at your piece here and think that If you want to go down on a woman, you should just ask her. Don’t bore us all to death with sloppy public tonguing.

  12. Natasha Lyonne has always reminded me of a specific girl from high school. Lyonne is “famous” in my book (how can you hate But I’m a Cheerleader?) although all the oddness in her life probably derailed her from becoming Famous. If she put out a book about those wacky years, I’d likely read it. Getting evicted by Michael Rapaport? Page turner!

    Her role in Dizzle though is so minimal and almost worthless. The bathroom scene with her was probably the best.

  14. I’ve seen almost every movie ever made, and Natasha is atrocious. Slap-in-the-face rape-up-the-ass worthy. Just. Plain. Awful.

    She’s what happens when an actress is trashy, but lacks the trash-aura that Rosanna Arquette has.

  16. Rape-up-the-ass worthy is a phrase I’m going to use. It’s almost as good as “violently retarded” or “weapons-grade stupid”

  19. Mr. Poe, since when does poor acting subject an actress to violence and rape? Oh, you’re trying out a little hyperbole? Try something else. It’s just icky.

  21. Overcuteitis:

    “I explain my whole philosophy: if one has the time, interest, or inclination to bother matching up one’s socks, one should reevaluate one’s priorities.”

    But you do appear to have the time, interest or inclination to not only work at mismatching your socks, but telling everyone you do it.

    Best part: Everything that came after “And the rest is silence.”

  23. god damn it. i have about 10 pairs of argyle kneesocks, But I’m a Cheerleader is one of my favorite movies, and i have a big gay crush on that woman. it doesn’t surprise me that she was “drunk and incoherent” at the preview because i had a picture of her on my wall for about a year with a gigantic bottle of whiskey poking out of her jeans, but i don’t care. i’m so sorry i missed her – that’s what i get for checking slog only occasionally, i guess.

  24. Adrian! I love you and I have missed you! And you should see …The Fabulous Stains just because. I think you will love it.

    I wish all celeb interviews read like yours. At least these are fun to read!

  26. i think she’s worthy.
    i don’t know precisely why, but there’s something about her that fascinates me, even though much of her acting is forgettable.
    except “but i’m a cheerleader.” that movie and it’s whole cast was genius.

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