Captivating Tatiana Maslanythe original and most comprehensive fansite for tatiana maslany

Captivating Tatiana Maslany

the original and most comprehensive fansite for tatiana maslany

Tatiana was on Late Night with Seth Meyers. Check out her interview below and photos in the gallery. Enjoy!


There has been heaps of critical praise thrown at Nicole Kidman and director Karyn Kusama for their work in Destroyer, but the film also boasts a stellar ensemble that helps anchor the narrative.

Tatiana Maslany (Orphan Black) is Petra, a hard living woman who goes toe to toe with detective Erin Bell (Kidman). Petra and Erin were friends years ago (Petra had no idea Erin was an undercover officer), and they were part of a crew that orchestrated a tragic bank robbery. Kusama places her story in past and present day Los Angeles, as we witness how the ravages of time has affected both women.

Though Maslany’s character, under lesser hands, could be deemed as a two dimensional criminal, she is given added dimension in Destroyer, and the actress praises Kusama’s full bodied approach to storytelling. (Click on the media bar below to hear Maslany).

Tatiana was on ‘Watch What Happens Live‘ with Andy Cohan this week. Check out photos and video clips from her appearance. You can watch the full video here if you have access to Bravo network.

Even the cast and creators are working out what the stage adaptation of the prescient 1976 film means right now.

One recent Friday afternoon, Bryan Cranston came bounding through the downstairs lounge of the Belasco Theater wearing little more than a bathrobe. He broke character briefly, offered a genial smile and calmly declared, “I have to go get crazy.”

Then he dashed up the stairs and onto the stage and sat behind a desk there. Resuming the role of a television news anchor who is coming apart at the seams, Mr. Cranston prepared to deliver a fiery monologue in which he urges his viewers, who are as angry and frustrated as he is, to stick their heads out their windows and scream, “I’m mad as hell, and I’m not going to take it anymore!”

This is the most potent moment in “Network,” the prescient, Academy Award-winning 1976 film, written by Paddy Chayefsky, about a fictional last-place television station that has lost its moral compass and staked its future on a deranged anchorman named Howard Beale.

This scene is no less volatile in the stage adaptation of “Network,” which opens Dec. 6. Following its run last year at the National Theater in London, the production arrives in New York with a formidable pedigree: It is adapted from the movie by Lee Hall, the writer of “Billy Elliot,” and directed by Ivo van Hove, the experimental director of acclaimed Broadway revivals of “The Crucible” and “A View From the Bridge.”

Mr. Cranston, the combustible leading man of “Breaking Bad” and “All the Way,” stars as Beale, the frenetic broadcaster played in the film by Peter Finch. The cast also features Tony Goldwyn (“Scandal”) as Max Schumacher, the network’s demoralized news president, and Tatiana Maslany (“Orphan Black”) as Diana Christensen, an ambitious programming executive, characters played on screen by William Holden and Faye Dunaway.

If “Network” is to make good on this enviable roster, it must do more than re-enact famous scenes from a 42-year-old movie. The creators and performers of this stage version, set in the late 1970s of the film, believe they have found a compelling interpretation that they can make every bit as relevant to a contemporary audience.

Its story is not one that required any updating to resonate in the Trump era of alternative facts and fake news, but the play does not go out of its way to draw these parallels, either. Beyond its eerily accurate forecasting about the corporatization of news media and the degradation of truth, this “Network” has a timely and more fundamental message about the power of anger and what happens when society unleashes it en masse.

It just might not be the message that audiences expect, or one that its principal constituents see eye-to-eye on. They have been trying to discern its meaning since they staged it in London, and are still negotiating with the play and with each other, even as they fine-tune the production for Broadway.

As Mr. Cranston told me later, “Our society does not welcome the emotion of anger. It is not appropriate. And working on this made me realize: Why not? It’s a great motivator. It’s legitimate. Why is that not embraced as who we are?”

Earlier that Friday afternoon, the Belasco stage was a storm of humanity as Mr. van Hove oversaw his actors in a technical rehearsal. Two scenes were playing out simultaneously: Mr. Cranston was muttering in a mirror to an unseen figure while Ms. Maslany and Mr. Goldwyn were seducing each other over a night on the town.

All the while, their movements were being tracked by cameras — some overhead, some operated by people on stage with them — capable of displaying them on a giant screen that dominated the set. A persistent musical score gave the dueling scenes a propulsive beat while lights bathed them in a dark blue hue.

It is a markedly different approach — immersive and, by design, overwhelming — from the unobtrusive, naturalistic style that the director Sidney Lumet brought to the original film. “Network,” the motion picture, won four Academy Awards, including Oscars for Ms. Dunaway, Chayefsky and Finch, who died shortly after it opened.

For Chayefsky, the celebrated screenwriter of “Marty,” “The Hospital” and “The Americanization of Emily,” “Network” has come to be regarded as his magnum opus: a ferocious distillation of his fears about the dehumanizing authority of monolithic corporations and the mass media.

The character of Howard Beale — who is transformed into a populist sensation after he threatens to commit suicide on live television, and whose audience grows bigger and more fervent as his grasp on reality becomes more tenuous — remains his most famous creation.

“Network” scandalized the staid broadcast networks of Chayefsky’s day (in an era when there were only three to choose from) with its dire prognosis that factual reporting would eventually be made obsolete by splenetic appeals to emotion. He died in 1981, never seeing his most ominous predictions come true.

Mr. van Hove said he could still remember the feelings that “Network” left on him, when he saw the film as a teenager. “It was a very impressive movie,” he said, “but at the same time, it felt over-the-top: ‘This can never happen. This is total science fiction.’”

After reading Mr. Hall’s adaptation a few years ago, he came to a different conclusion: “I thought this science fiction has become our reality,” he said.

Mr. Hall, the British screenwriter and playwright, discovered “Network” while living in America in the 1990s and had wanted to bring it to the stage for nearly a decade. “I was looking to do something about the internet, how that was changing our news,” he said. “Then I realized Paddy had already written that play.”

“Network,” with its many long tirades and diatribes, didn’t require much intervention from an outside author. “I didn’t feel that it needed my voice,” Mr. Hall said. “Very, very, very, very few of the words are mine. Nearly everything comes from Paddy in one way or another.”

Mr. van Hove, who was approached by the National Theater to direct the play around 2013, said he saw “Network” as more than just another film-to-theater translation.

“It’s a tragedy about the loss of values,” said Mr. van Hove, whose recent works include the stage version of Luchino Visconti’s “The Damned” presented at the Park Avenue Armory this summer.

“All its relationships are scarred,” he said. “There’s not one relationship in it which is just O.K.”

He compared “Network” to the Arthur Miller dramas he has directed, which are “plays where individuals stand in opposition to society, and there’s a tension between the two.” In the case of “Network,” van Hove said, “It’s the fall, the rise and the fall of Howard Beale.”

He added, “Perhaps the satire is not the most important element. I had to make it into a harsh reality and, at the same time, keep it entertaining.”

Mr. van Hove and the production designer Jan Versweyveld, his frequent collaborator and personal partner, pored over the text of “Network.” Together they mapped out three sections of the stage, representing the various locations where all the action of the play takes place.

At center stage, they placed the desk where Beale delivers his increasingly unhinged jeremiads. On the left, a television control room where colleagues and executives monitor his actions and make their cynical decisions. On the right, an arrangement of tables, chairs and couches standing in for the bars and restaurants its characters visit.

They further populated the play’s world with omnipresent camerapeople and technicians, and they provided seats at their onstage restaurant where a few theatergoers at each show (who pay a premium for the privilege) can drink cocktails and eat a four-course meal curated by Bill Yosses, the former executive pastry chef of the White House.

The point of all this apparatus, Mr. van Hove and Mr. Versweyveld said, is to create a theatrical experience that is constantly in motion — the play is two hours long without an intermission — in which everyone is under observation and no one is told where to look. As they envision it, the boundary between what’s occurring on that giant screen and what is happening in reality should always be ambiguous.

The production still needed its Howard Beale, which it found in Mr. Cranston. At 62, he is two years older than Finch was when he played the part, though Mr. Cranston is hardly the fading lion the British actor had been. Mr. Cranston has won four Emmy Awards for his acting work on “Breaking Bad,” a Tony Award for “All the Way” and an Olivier Award for the London production of “Network.”

He is deliberate in his choices and confident when he reaches them. When it comes to the theater, Mr. Cranston told me, “I don’t believe in absolute blind reverence to the material. I just don’t. Because it is a performance art. It’s not a painting.” (This would not necessarily have endeared him to Chayefsky, who was a stickler for the written word.)

Mr. Cranston has already spent many months inhabiting Beale, and he said he had grown accustomed to the character’s arc, as he evolves from a bitter relic to a beloved articulator of public rage — and then, horrifically, into an anti-Arab, pro-corporate demagogue.

But within that trajectory, Mr. Cranston said he was still making discoveries about the play and his performance. He could never anticipate, from show to show, how he might deliver a monologue like the “mad as hell” speech, when Beale defiantly tells his audience he has no solutions for a world in which “we know things are bad — worse than bad, they’re crazy.”

“Sometimes that speech stays angry and gets [expletive] furious,” Mr. Cranston said. “Sometimes it takes me to a place where I’m weeping, and I’m so hurt and damaged and broken. I don’t really know from time to time, and that’s great. That’s where it should live.”

TV screens display vintage news broadcasts and commercials to underscore the play’s setting in the ’70s. Even so, the new members of its Broadway cast are still grappling with their characters, trying to play their roles as written while attuning their performances to modern-day standards and principles.

“Our society does not welcome the emotion of anger,” Mr. Cranston said. “And working on this made me realize: Why not? It’s a great motivator. It’s legitimate. Why is that not embraced as who we are?”
Ms. Maslany said that she shared a concern expressed by several critics of “Network,” who feel that the role of Diana — as written by Chayefsky, a relentlessly driven woman in a male-dominated industry — didn’t subvert gender stereotypes as much as provide a different caricature of a ruthlessly calculating female professional.

As far as Diana’s aspirations are concerned, Ms. Maslany said, “I don’t judge that hunger. I understand it as an artist. I understand it as a young woman. I know what it’s like to try to carve out space for my voice.”

Ms. Maslany said there had been discussions about excising a notorious line in which Diana describes herself as having a “masculine temperament” because, she says, “I arouse quickly, consummate prematurely and can’t wait to get my clothes back on and get out of that bedroom.” (A press representative for the production said this scene was cut “not because Diana is candid about her sexual temperament, but because of the way the scenes run together with some other changes.”)

“There is a vilification of her that I don’t completely get,” Ms. Maslany said. “Everyone else in the play is doing the same thing she’s doing. They just happen to be men.”

Mr. Goldwyn, who is 58, was reckoning with the fact that he is the same age Holden was when he played Max Schumacher, a fading character learning to embrace his status as a “craggy, middle-aged man.”

“I feel a little youthful for the character, in terms of my orientation toward life,” Mr. Goldwyn said. “He seemed so much older. A guy in his 50s in 1976 was a lot older than a guy in his 50s in 2018.”

As Mr. Goldwyn saw it, the events of recent years had made the message of “Network” crystal clear.

“Anger has become the dominant force in our political dialogue and, as result, in our media dialogue,” he said. “I don’t know which came first, but now it’s all gone on steroids.”

But Mr. Hall suggested that the play offered a different lesson, “about the danger of absolute beliefs — the danger of any kind of fundamentalism,” he said.

To make that point, Mr. Hall said the play had to end with Beale undergoing “a moment of anagnorisis” — some final realization about the truth of his experience. But what should that realization be? This took a few tries to figure out.

In one scenario he contemplated, Mr. Hall said, “The last speech was going to be him, resigning on air, properly, and saying where he’s gone wrong.” He quickly added, “We didn’t do it that way.”

For obvious reasons, Mr. Hall was reluctant to reveal the exact conclusion of “Network,” but he credited its outcome to Mr. van Hove.

As Mr. Hall explained, “He kept on saying to me and Bryan, ‘I can’t describe it. I just have to do it. You’ll have to trust me.’ I can see why he couldn’t describe it, because it’s a theatrical trick. But it tries to end on a reflective note.”

Mr. van Hove, too, was cagey about specifics, but he argued that his “Network” could strike an uplifting tone — perhaps not by providing a traditional happy ending, but by suggesting the possibility that things will not always be the way they are.

“I’m an optimist, but not in a stupid way,” he said. “I’m not like, oh, we’re all doomed. Perhaps we’ve destroyed the world at this moment, in a certain way. But I see things on a larger scale.”

Change, restoration and a return to compassion are all possible, Mr. van Hove said — just maybe not as quickly as we would all like it. “At the end of the ice age, there was suddenly one little flower that came out of the ice, and then there’s life again,” he said. “But it takes some time.”

Plus, is Tatiana secretly obsessed with Drake?

Souls of Totality, a short film directed by Richard Raymond happens during the Great American Eclipse, this is a love story about the sacrifices we make for love. Lady 18 (Tatiana Maslany) and Guy 3 (Tom Cullen) have a secret. They are members of a cult that believes if they die during a Solar Eclipse their souls will be taken to paradise. But that’s not their secret… They are also profoundly in love.

The video below is about Richard talking about Souls of Totality AND a look at the film. If you wish to skip over the interview jump to 1:45 to watch the clip of Tatiana and Tom.

Check out a press interview Tatiana did with Sebastian Stan at TIFF while promoting Destroyer.

Canadian actress Tatiana Maslany won an Emmy in 2016 for her role in BBC America’s “Orphan Black” as the rebellious Sarah Manning … and as the violent Helena … and as soccer mom Alison Hendrix, along with nine other characters, all clones.

On Thursday morning, she learned she’d again been nominated in the lead actress in a drama category for her work on “Orphan Black.” But her mind was on another role — her New York stage debut that very evening.

Big day for you: The New York premiere of “Mary Page Marlowe” tonight at the Second Stage Theater, in which you play the title role, along with four other actors. And now the Emmy nom. How are you feeling?
I’m very nervous. I’m so excited, but really nervous. And everything that goes along with opening night. I can’t believe I get to do it. And on top of it, to get this news this morning. It was a total shock. I didn’t think people remembered the [TV] show. It’s been off air for a while. And there’s just so much amazing television right now. “Atlanta.” “Handmaid’s Tale” — which I find really difficult to watch. A lot of my friends are watching it and saying, sadly, it resonates so much with what’s happening in our culture. But the Emmy nomination, I’m excited.

Speaking of “Handmaid’s Tale,” what do you think the role is these days for narrative television, and actors in general, to address issues of the #MeToo movement? Or do you prefer TV as pure entertainment and escapism?
I don’t think it’s mutually exclusive. But as an artist, I feel we have to talk about the work, dissect it and reveal it and shed light on it in different ways and through different perspectives. That’s so vital, and if we’re not doing that, then I don’t know what we’re doing. I’ve always been very drawn to characters who don’t fit into boxes, complicated characters.

Multiple complicated characters. You played 12 very different women in “Orphan Black.” And Tracy Letts’ “Mary Page Marlowe” is a splintered portrait of a woman from different, key moments in her life. Is fragmentation a theme for you?
Absolutely. I think it’s very relevant to myself, and a lot of people I talk to, and women in general. How do we get splintered off so that we are more palatable, more easily digested, more easily put into a certain box of behavior and defined from the outside. I think that complexity and gray area and all that in our human nature is often sort of pushed to the side.

The ‘Orphan Black’ actress, making her New York stage debut in ‘Mary Page Marlowe,’ on multiple roles, navigating career and the scary question she gets asked during every performance of the play

On the BBC America television series “Orphan Black,” Tatiana Maslany embodied nearly a dozen roles, winning an Emmy in the process. In the play “ Mary Page Marlowe, ” she plays just one: a woman exasperated with the expectations of domestic life.

“I’m just acting like a person who is a wife and a mother,” she tells her therapist in one scene. “I know what that means, I know the levers to pull to be that person. I’m a great actress.”

It is a moment that hits close to home for the 32-year-old Ms. Maslany, who can be seen in the off-Broadway production at Second Stage Theater through Aug. 12.

“The whole scene that I have in therapy is just like, who transcribed my thoughts?” she says with a laugh.

“Mary Page Marlowe,” written by Tracy Letts, uses six actresses, including Ms. Maslany, to tell the title character’s story at different milestones. Ms. Maslany plays Mary Page at 27, when she is
having an affair in a motel room, and 36, when she is trying to make sense of her life.

“There’s something about getting to show the life of one woman with a group of women, at this time when we’re forging a community of women who are fighting for all of us,” Ms. Maslany says, a nod to the #MeToo movement. “It just feels really important to get to tell this story as a group, as opposed to the individualistic nature sometimes of performing.”

She spoke with the Journal about “Mary Page Marlowe” and navigating her career and private life post-“Orphan Black.” Edited excerpts follow.

This is your New York stage debut. Why did you choose this play?
I’ve been a fan of Tracy’s writing for years, and actually, “August: Osage County” was the first play I ever saw on Broadway. It kind of blew my mind. His writing in “Mary Page Marlowe” just felt so revealing. Somehow he gets inside the mind of a woman in a way that felt very personal and private.

Is there a specific moment that really resonates with you?
In my scene, I say a lot of things about the roles that we play, women in our own lives, and how we can be strangers to ourselves. How the expectation of how we present in the world can actually alter our own internal understanding of ourselves, and that disconnect. I think it’s something we can all actually really understand and feel.

Does the idea of playing multiple roles speak to who you are?
From 9 years old, I was acting and performing on stage or in front of the camera, and I was being directed by adults—men, mostly. I think a lot of my understanding of myself came through that collaboration. So, it does create a bit of a fractured sense of who I actually am. I think that’s why the child actor to adult actor transition can be daunting and difficult for people, because you spent your whole life being told who you are, and now suddenly you have to own that.

With five other actresses playing Mary Page Marlowe, do you consider your role as separate, or of a piece with their roles?
I definitely feel like we’ve been working toward the sense of us all being a piece of each other. We’ve been doing a lot of vocal warm-ups together and breath work and physical work.

But also, what Tracy was seeking to explore most is how we can be different people at different points in our lives—how sometimes we don’t even recognize ourselves if we look back. I even say that at one point: “It feels like a different person was going through that.”

What’s it like when you look back on your own life, considering the fame you’ve achieved in the past few years?
It’s a strange new thing for me, certainly. I grew up doing this. I did it for almost 20 years before I got any sense of, I guess, fame. I’ve always been just an actor working, and that’s always been the focus. Then to suddenly be in this other realm, where people want an autograph or picture, it’s a really bizarre feeling to navigate. And the choices you make are really public.

Your scenes in particular show Mary Page’s disconnection to herself. She seems profoundly disappointed with her life. Does that take a toll?
All of us Mary Pages have talked about the lack of catharsis in the play. A lot of the scenes end before they resolve, before the breath out. We’re all kind of left in this tension.

At one point, the therapist asks your character: What would your life look like if you could make or remake all your choices in your life? Then there’s a 30-second pause. Tell me about that moment.

That question is terrifying, you know? If you did actually own every choice, if you were responsible, if it wasn’t just all happening to you, if you actually had volition in your life, what would you do differently?
What would it mean if you did do something differently? Who would you have lost? Who would no longer be in your life, if you chose something different? Even talking about it feels murky and scary to pin down. It’s such a great, awful question.