Natasha Lyonne on the Surreal Freedom of Make-Believe: “I’m Pretty Honest About That Being My Kink”

“What’s so amazing about having a moment is they let you do stuff,” says Natasha Lyonne, her halo of orange curls bobbing in the East Village twilight. “It means your ideas are worthy of bankrolling and worthy of actually getting made. And it means the freedom to not have to hustle quite so hard. You don’t have to go in and open your briefcase, show your wares, and have people say, ‘No, thank you, we’re not looking for any stopwatches today.’ I’ve had decades of that.

Lyonne lurked at the margins of Hollywood a long time, an eccentric with self-confessed niche appeal. But in recent years, she’s moved closer to the center—or maybe the center has finally come to her. After co-creating the mind-bending Emmy-winning series Russian Doll with Leslye Headland and Amy Poehler, Lyonne scored a hit with the charming retro murder mystery series Poker Face and was acclaimed last fall for her moving performance in His Three Daughters. Her days are now a frantic treadmill: appearances in the upcoming Fantastic Four movie and Taika Waititi’s Klara and the Sun; producing, starring in, and directing some episodes of Poker Face’s second season; and developing projects for her own production company, Animal Pictures. “I’ve had moments in life that have been lonely and dark and broke enough where your priority is definitely not ‘Did you pitch a TV show well this morning?’ So if I hear myself being like, I’m so tired—that means I’ve lost the gratitude for how extraordinary my circumstance is.”

Lyonne appeared in Pee-wee’s Playhouse as a child and starred in Slums of Beverly Hills and American Pie as a teenage adult. Now 45, she looks back in anger rather than nostalgia. “I remember those years pretty well, against my will,” she says in that raspy New York accent that sounds like a wiseguy crossed with a borscht belt comedian. “There’s something about being alert and in the workforce as a child—you can’t put the genie back in the bottle, you can’t unknow what you’ve seen.” That sensation of being a commodity has informed everything she’s done since.

Dress and bracelets by Chanel.Photograph by Camilla Åkrans; Styled by Celia Azoulay

The second child of Orthodox Jewish parents, Lyonne grew up in New York and Israel against a backdrop of drinking sprees, fights, and general volatility. Her mother was an aspiring ballerina, her father a boxing promoter and radio shock jock who, she says, did things like calling into Howard Stern’s show while she was a guest. All this made them what she diplomatically calls “tricky” stage parents: “You don’t necessarily want to win at this thing that you’re being told is a prize, so I was always trying to hide in the shadows. Since my parents’ dream was for me to be famous, my whole purpose in life was to try to crush their dream by not doing that.” Instead of getting her degree at NYU, she picked up a heroin addiction and (after she had kicked her habit) had open-heart surgery to repair the damage.

Dress by Loewe; bralette by Eres; briefs by Commando; bracelet by Bulgari High Jewelry.Photograph by Camilla Åkrans; Styled by Celia Azoulay

After her parents died—circa Orange Is the New Black, in which she played a junkie—she began to feel more comfortable being front and center as an actor. “I always dreamed of this fantasy place where I was able to do the thing I loved so much,” she says, “but without this albatross on my back of being somebody else’s funnel for cash.” Now that she’s arrived at this dream destination, Lyonne is reveling in her up-to-date freedom to stretch out in projects that tickle her imagination. “It’s like going off on this little adventure into this space that’s not quite here or there—it’s a third space, and we’re all gonna agree that it’s real and live there for a while,” she says. She breaks into a huge smile. “I’m pretty honest about that being my kink.”