DGA Award winner sheds light on the limited series, and what she learned from "Lessons"
By Robert Goldrich
LOS ANGELES --Just getting to join the Directors Guild of America (DGA) several years back was “a huge moment in my career,” recalled Sarah Adina Smith, citing her transition from industry outsider to feeling a sense of belonging. Fast forward to 2024 and this sense of achievement grew in size and scope as Smith found herself nominated for and then winning a DGA Award for helming the “Her and Him” episode of the limited series Lessons in Chemistry (Apple TV+).
Smith directed the first two episodes of Lessons in Chemistry (episode two being “Her and Him”), additionally serving as an executive producer. As the DGA Award underscores, she and the show are now very much in the current Emmy Awards season conversation.
Set in the early 1950s, Lessons in Chemistry–based on Bonnie Garmus’ best-selling 2022 novel of the same title–follows Elizabeth Zott (portrayed by Brie Larson), whose dream of being a scientist is put on hold in a patriarchal society. When Zott suffers a tragic loss only to later be fired from her lab, she accepts a job as a host on a TV cooking show, and sets out to teach a nation of overlooked housewives–and the men who are suddenly listening–a lot more than recipes.
Starring alongside Larson are Lewis Pullman (Top Gun: Maverick, Outer Range), NAACP Image Award winner Aja Naomi King (How to Get Away with Murder, The Birth of a Nation), Stephanie Koenig (The Flight Attendant, The Offer), Kevin Sussman (The Big Bang Theory, The Dropout), Patrick Walker (Gaslit), and Thomas Mann (Winning Time: The Rise of the Lakers Dynasty, Me and Earl and the Dying Girl).
Executive producer Louise Shore first reached out to Smith about the possibility of taking on Lessons in Chemistry. The two have been long-time collaborators, including on the Amazon Original movie Birds of Paradise for which Smith and Shore served as writer-director and co-producer, respectively. Smith was immediately intrigued by the opportunity to work with Shore again, and to connect for the first time with Oscar-winning actress Larson (Room) who had been attached to Lessons in Chemistry from the very beginning, also serving as an exec producer. Smith felt an instant rapport with the team led by showrunner Lee Eisenberg, got the gig and in short order they were “off to the races,” said the director, to bring Lessons in Chemistry to fruition.
Eisenberg’s pedigree includes seven Emmy nominations (The Office, Hello Ladies: The Movie and Jury Duty). Also exec producing Lessons in Chemistry were Susannah Grant, an Oscar nominee for her Erin Brockovich screenplay, Michael Costigan and Jason Bateman for Aggregate Films, and Natalie Sandy for Piece of Work Entertainment.
Among the challenges posed by Lessons in Chemistry, said Smith, was her concern that a white woman facing workplace discrimination in the 1950s, while a substantive narrative, could have come off as something done before on film. A priority for her and the cast was to access “something more universal and layered,” being “as human and specific as possible.” Towards that end, Smith realized that she had to do justice to Zott’s story “from the inside out,” providing “a true sense of her inner life.” Thankfully, Smith had the good fortune of having Larson in the role of Zott. “She’s doing most of that work. My job was to cinematically figure out how to support the storytelling.”
Smith embraced the opportunity to set the tone in the first two episodes–or for that matter in the very first five minutes of the show. Smith explained that she wanted to give the audience “a question they could hang onto” from the get-go, opening with a long tracking shot of Zott from the back, showing her face for the first time as the star of a TV cooking show. This is juxtaposed with Zott also revealed to be working as a lowly lab tech getting coffee for the male scientists. The stark contrast between those two stations in life leads to curiosity about what happened in-between, the how and why of the way her life evolved, the personal and professional challenges she faced, and beyond that how they reflected what was going on in the world at that time from a big-picture perspective. Again, though, this is all conveyed in that very personal “inner life” context coveted by Smith.
From that “inner life” are lessons to be learned, which Smith felt both personally and professionally. “Ironically the lesson of Lessons in Chemistry is that life surprises you. You think you’re on the path and that your will is pushing through to achieve your destiny built on your own choices,” said Smith. “Suddenly there’s a sharp left turn you couldn’t have predicted. How you react to that surprise is what makes life meaningful.”
Akin to that for Smith was the opportunity that emerged with Lessons in Chemistry. This wasn't at all the kind of project she sought at first. Her career had been characterized by–and she had a penchant for–psychological thrillers, slightly darker narratives, even sci-fi fare. The surprise for Smith was finding Lessons in Chemistry to be “a life changer” and “so joyful.” It taught her the value of “staying open to things you don’t expect.” Beyond that, Lessons in Chemistry afforded her the chance to build relationships with cast, crew, writers, producers, “a truly talented, tremendous group of people.” It’s been what she described as “a constellation of relationships that make life rich and meaningful.”
Lessons in Chemistry, she continued, “really upped my game as a craftswoman and storyteller in a lot of ways.” She became more confident in being able to take creative risks. And the experience reaffirmed for her that–even when world building in sci-fi, for example–what moves an audience in the end is “the inner life of the characters and relationships on screen.” Lessons in Chemistry reminded her that being a director is grounded in this and that “every cinematic choice” has to be in service of connecting with the human condition in a relatable, relevant way.
Clearly relatable–and part of what drew Smith to the series–is that there are no easy answers. On one hand, observed Smith, should Zott have stuck to her guns and doggedly stayed true to her pursuit of being a scientist? Or even if it’s imperfect, do you go through the door that’s open for you–in this case a cooking show–to find yourself and your voice in another way? There is no right answer to this necessarily. “It’s a complex answer and that’s what lovely about the series,” assessed Smith, as we see a very capable, extremely talented person stumble at times, grapple with the situation and try to figure life out.
(This is a preview leading to the first installment on May 10 of SHOOT’s weekly 16-part The Road To Emmy Series of feature stories. Nominations will be announced and covered on July 17. Creative Arts Emmy winners will be reported on September 7 and 8, and primetime Emmy ceremony winners will be covered on September 15.)
Review: Director-Writer Megan Park’s “My Old Ass”
They say tripping on psychedelic mushrooms triggers hallucinations, anxiety, paranoia and nervousness. In the case of Elliott, an 18-year-old restless Canadian, they prompt a visitor.
"Dude, I'm you," says the guest, as she nonchalantly burns a 'smores on a campfire next to a very high and stunned Elliott. "Well, I'm a 39-year-old you. What's up?"
What's up, indeed: Director-writer Megan Park has crafted a wistful coming-of-age tale using this comedic device for "My Old Ass" and the results are uneven even though she nails the landing.
After the older Elliott proves who she is — they share a particular scar, childhood memories and a smaller left boob — the time-travel advice begins: Be nice to your brothers and mom, and stay away from a guy named Chad.
"Can we hug?" asks the older Elliott. They do. "This is so weird," says the younger Elliott, who then makes things even weirder when she asks for a kiss — to know what it's like kissing yourself. The older Elliott soon puts her number into the younger's phone under the name "My Old Ass." Then they keep in touch, long after the effects of the 'shrooms have gone.
Part of the movie's problem that can't be ignored is that the two Elliotts look nothing alike. Maisy Stella plays the coltish young version and a wry Aubrey Plaza the older. Both turn in fine performances but the visuals are slowly grating.
The arrival of the older Elliott coincides with her younger self counting down the days until she can flee from her small town of 300 in the Muskoka Lakes region to college in Toronto, where "my life is about to start." She's sick of life on a cranberry farm.
Park's scenes and dialogue are unrushed and honest as Elliott takes her older self's advice and tries to repair... Read More