Grace Van Patten Interview

It’s 9 am in New York when I place a call to Grace Van Patten. She is in the middle of a stretch as she answers me, her eyes slightly wincing from the glare of her screen. Setting her laptop on the arm of her sofa, I am in full view of her room within which Palo Santo candles flicker and a bundle of washing lays neatly waiting to be put away. As we instantly descend into a conversation about the importance of making your home a sanctuary, I realise I have barely introduced myself to the 25-year-old actor. Instead, what ensues is a conversation as candid and honest as that of two girlfriends, banded together the morning after a night out to discuss all of its gritty details. We discuss love, loss, friends, exes, achievements and regrets. We laugh about the days of BBM and iPods. We share the pain of our respective breakups… All the while forgetting that we were in an interview at all. What does it take to prompt such a deep, unfiltered exchange between two people who have just met over Zoom, you may wonder? Only the topic that has forged friendships, charged our favourite stories and united womenkind for centuries: men. 

Starring as Lucy in the hotly released Hulu series Tell Me Lies, Van Patten is placed at the helm of every woman’s worst nightmare, something best described by the log line that instantly prompted the actor to put herself forward for the part. “It was something so simple like, ‘young girl gets entangled in a tumultuous relationship,” she explains. “All of my favourite movies are about fucked up relationships, like Blue Valentine or Urban Cowboy. And those are all character studies of somebody who falls into a situation just like Lucy’s.” A character so paradoxical in nature, Lucy Albright instantly sets the palpable reality of the series into focus. Moving far from her testing home life in Long Island, Lucy welcomes opportunities anew as she arrives on the campus of her modest Californian college, soon embarking on a white-knuckle ride of new friendships, wild parties and love. The all-consuming, devastating and irrevocable kind. Enter, Stephen DeMarco. 

“That’s what I loved so much about Lucy, she comes across as this stoic character who has everything together, she’s so confident. And then she meets this guy who just completely unravels her. I thought that was such an important story to tell”. Though relatability has never posed a threat to Van Patten herself - whether that be her tendency to “sage [her] personal space to get all the bad juju out” or her affinity for an Aperol Spritz - the walls built around her character seem almost impenetrable when we first meet her. “I don’t know if I’m just being sceptic, but I got the impression we weren’t supposed to like Lucy,” I confess. “I think that’s such an important observation,” she says. “When you meet her, she’s just very numb and unable to connect with anyone. Then you watch her with Stephen, and all of a sudden she’s starting to feel again. I think that’s what makes her latch onto him in such a severe way. He starts to chip at these boundaries she has built around herself, and she’s completely out of control of what follows.” 

So how did Van Patten, who sits before me without makeup, filters or hesitation, connect so deeply to a character with a disposition that is the total opposite? Upon reflection, this question was something I often found myself asking while watching Van Patten in action. From Tell Me Lies to her acclaimed role as Zoe in Hulu’s Nine Perfect Strangers, Van Patten has always landed at the crux of emotionally demanding parts. “I’m just so drawn to characters that have layers and are complex,” she admits. “I like when there isn’t just surface and I think that’s really rare to find in female roles, especially young roles, unfortunately”. 

A better question perhaps to ask is why Van Patten decided to act in the first place. “I started to understand myself through acting, and similar to Lucy I was closed off in high school and had a wall up. I was afraid of being vulnerable and acting gave me an outlet to reach into my emotions and be okay with expressing them. I’ve gone on such a journey to realise that vulnerability is the most powerful, beautiful thing. Acting helped me to uncover that, it was like therapy to me”. And while Van Patten may have found her safe space in her occupation, I soon learn it took until the senior year of high school for her to believe it was somewhere she could stay. 

“It took me getting a manager and for somebody else to believe in me,” she explains. Growing up with a director for a father, Van Patten became quickly acquainted with the highs and lows of show business. “I saw how unpredictable [the industry] was and how it can breed insecurity, so I didn’t have that confidence initially to go for it. It took a whole team to believe in me for me to finally say ‘okay, let’s go’. And I’ve just kept trying. I’m still trying,” she adds. An almost mirror-like comparison to her Tell Me Lies character, Van Patten managed to reach the epicentre of Lucy through these shared emotions. Much like her reliance on her team's endorsement, it takes Stephen’s interest in Lucy to truly find herself. But while Van Patten’s dependency on others enabled her to blossom into the woman I sit in front of, it becomes the catalyst of her character’s imminent demise.

Yet whether you can personally relate to Lucy or not, Van Patten’s performance ensures you get a front-row seat into her mind. “I really hope the audience watches the show through her eyes and is just as confused about Stephen as she is. I hope they feel that back and forth. That’s the feeling you have when someone is so polarising and intriguing and exciting but also treats you terribly. It’s a feeling that can be addicting sometimes.” And while toxic relationships are by no means an uncommon plot theme in modern discourse, I wondered what it was about Tell Me Lies that made Van Patten so passionate about its story. “Everyone has a Stephen,” she answers instantly. “I think a lot of people have shame about falling into something like that and not seeing the red flags and trusting that person. It was a really important story to tell, that anyone can be fooled.” 

Set in 2007 when blackberries were the hottest commodity, Blink-182 was blaring and low-rise jeans were not just a resurrected trend, Tell Me Lies places viewers inside the pinnacle of youth — a sentiment that Van Patten found all the more intriguing. “I love that the show took all of these young people’s emotions so seriously. It pinpoints that time in your life when you’re so malleable and grasping for who you are. You watch all the girls come in freshman year, it’s their chance to reinvent themselves to people who don’t know their history or who they really are.” 

What, then, did that period look like for Van Patten herself? “When I first read the script it held a mirror up to me in a lot of ways. It made me realise a lot about myself in high school and helped me understand why I was like that. It’s a scary realisation to have, thinking ‘Oh man, I lived like that for so many years.’ I can’t imagine it now because I am just a puddle of emotion.” Growing up in New York City and braving the subway at just ten years old, it goes without saying that Van Patten “was exposed to a lot at a younger age”. Nonetheless, she affirms, “My growing up experience was very different from Lucys, there were no parties. So doing this show gave me the chance to live out my college experience. It definitely made me think about who I would be in that situation and what face I would try on if I was going to a new place with new people.” And while filming offered this space for contemplation, my conversation with the actor thus far was proving one absolute fact: the only face Grace Van Patten wears is her own. 

So palpably self-aware in the manner with which she recounts her own experiences, Van Patten is a true proficient in the art of transparency. Making no attempt to sugar-coat her responses, she unconsciously demonstrates the strength and power that comes with settling into your skin. “I think that’s a huge message of the show in general,” she says modestly as I point out this fact. “If everyone was honest with themselves and was able to communicate and be themselves, then none of the drama would have ever happened. Their inability to communicate and be vulnerable and honest with themselves causes all of the issues, I think it’s a big life lesson to learn. I’m 25 and it’s still about the games, I don’t think that goes away. But to learn as young as possible that vulnerability and honesty are cool is so powerful.” As we began to discuss Lucy’s relationships with her college mates Pippa and Bree, Van Patten and I quickly begin to analyse how this realisation transpires just as potently within female friendships. “My girlfriends are my rocks. But I think it gets complicated when you’re in high school and college when everyone’s priorities are all over the place. And for Lucy, Pippa and Bree, it’s all about these stupid guys. You see how much fun they have together and the potential of their closeness. It’s nice to watch but also so frustrating. They’re all hiding things from each other and presenting each other with these lies that hinder them from connecting.” 

“Sounds like they picked the right name for the series, then,” I say. “Oh for sure, they hit the nail on the head with that one,” Van Patten replies, knocking an imaginary nail into the camera. Having only just wrapped filming two months prior to our conversation, I ask Van Patten if there was anything, in particular, she hopes the show will achieve. Rather than turning to thoughts of accolades and nominations, she demonstrates unwavering empathy in her aim to help and inspire others. “I hope people who have experienced a relationship like this or are currently in a relationship like this can watch the series and gain the motivation to get out,” she says. “The series itself is just like you’re watching life happen. No specific messages are being thrown in your face. It is whatever you take from it.” 

“I do think it can be used as a cautionary tale, to either help someone recognise the situation they are in or make them proud that they escaped from it. I mean, that’d be the coolest thing ever, if people in toxic relationships saw this and think, ‘I’m done’,” Van Patten affirms as her eyes gleam and her hands pull tight to her heart. “I wish I had this series to watch five years ago,” I reply. “Oh for sure. We all need that key to unlocking ourselves and saying goodbye to our Stephens”. As the timer of our Zoom call begins its dramatic countdown, Van Patten and I quickly blow kisses to the camera, bidding adieu to the toxic men of our past, feeling all the more grateful for the friendship we managed to ignite in their absence.