Entertainment
Like his character Isaac in 'Ghosts,' Brandon Scott Jones is multidimensional
When Brandon Scott Jones was in seventh grade, his mother bought him a copy of “The Elements of Screenwriting.”
Spurred by his interest in actors Matt Damon and Ben Affleck, whose turn to writing resulted in the Oscar-winning screenplay “Good Will Hunting,” Jones says he had “one goal, which was to write a part for myself in something, whatever it was.”
Unfortunately, Jones’ first attempt at screenwriting didn’t include the same kind of realism and lived experiences as Damon and Affleck’s story of a South Boston janitor who also happens to be a math prodigy.
“It was about a pornography director and it was called ‘Whatever Happened to Darren Potter?’” Jones says, laughing during an interview this summer over smoothies at the Silver Lake Erewhon.
His interest in writing came about because he’d broken away from the rest of the family during an outing to the multiplex for a repeat viewing of “Titanic” and snuck into a screening of “Good Will Hunting” instead. Then, when they went back to see “Titanic” again, he left and caught a snippet of Paul Thomas Anderson’s porn-industry drama “Boogie Nights.”
“This was an impressionable time where you were [at an age when you were] taking things in, so I wrote this screenplay about this prodigy actor — like ‘Good Will Hunting’ — and this pornography director,” Jones says. “There was no sex or anything like that. It was just that they were both trying to claw their way back to the top of the game.”
Jones had an early interest in writing and performing, but comedy versus drama turned out to be his strong suit.
(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)
This script, and other early material, were written on the typewriter Jones was given for Christmas when he was in fourth grade. He carried them in a briefcase. In eighth grade, the kid who sat next to him in math class would give him notes.
“Darren Potter” was, sadly, never produced (although Jones thinks he still has a copy of it somewhere in case anyone reading this is interested in setting up a meeting). Instead, his attempt at writing dramas has been parlayed into a career that utilizes something Jones has more familiarity with: self-deprecating humor.
Jones, a graduate of New York Conservatory for Dramatic Arts, got his start at Upright Citizens Brigade, where he was in the main cast of “Asssscat,” one of the improv house’s signature shows. He was then cast in Michael Schur’s NBC philosophical comedy “The Good Place,” winning critical praise for playing a Perez Hilton-like gossip blogger named John Wheaton. And in his film roles, he’s made meals out of small parts in “Renfield,” “Isn’t It Romantic?” and “Senior Year,” co-writing the latter, about a high school cheerleader who wakes up from a coma after two decades and becomes obsessed with returning to finish her senior year and reclaiming her popularity.
He achieved Notable Character Actor status when he was cast as Curtis, a struggling actor and best friend to Cary (Drew Tarver), in the Comedy Central and Max comedy “The Other Two.” It was a part he got literally at 6:30 a.m. one weekday while playing tennis. His friends, series creators Chris Kelly and Sarah Schneider, called him in a panic because another actor had dropped out of the series and they were about to begin shooting. An hour and a half later, he was on his way to the set. He’d eventually join that show’s writing staff as well.
Then came “Ghosts.” Created by Joe Port and Joe Wiseman and based on the British series of the same name, the CBS comedy falls somewhere between “The Good Place” and Jean-Paul Sartre’s dark existentialist play “No Exit.” As the show’s name suggests, it’s about spirits from different periods of American history who are, for reasons unknown to them, forced to spend eternity on the grounds of what is now a Hudson Valley estate.
In “Ghosts,” Brandon Scott Jones plays Isaac Higgintoot, who died of dysentery during the Revolutionary War.
(Bertrand Calmeau / CBS)
Jones plays Isaac Higgintoot, a member of the American Continental Congress who — appropriately, given his last name — died of dysentery while serving as a captain in the Revolutionary War. Isaac, who always felt like an outsider in life, is now furious that his contemporary Alexander Hamilton has everything from money to a book to a musical commemorating him. Meanwhile, Isaac wants to set the record straight that “I was never at the Boston Tea Party. I was in Boston at a tea party, but it was at my Aunt Geraldine’s house.”
“I think about him being constantly one step to the left of history,” says Jones, theorizing that Isaac could have been at the signing of the Declaration of Independence but probably got there late because he’d spilled something on his shirt. Or that he and his wife, Beatrice (played in flashbacks by Hillary Anne Matthews), were “unsuccessful Machiavellians,” who took it personally when snubbed for a dinner party invitation.
Thus far in the show, Isaac has convinced Sam (Rose McIver), a clairvoyant writer who took over the estate with her husband, Jay (Utkarsh Ambudkar), to write his biography because his Wikipedia page is severely lacking. Jones says that Isaac isn’t any different from one of TV’s more memorable (modern-day) political figures, such as Selina Meyer, the singularly focused politico played by Julia Louis-Dreyfus on HBO’s “Veep.”
“To retroactively want your life to have meant something, or to have been part of something, I think is really so fun and desperate,” Jones says.
Not that the afterlife has been too boring for Isaac. At least not in the last few years.
Each season of “Ghosts” has ended with major developments for Isaac. In the first, he realized that times have changed and it’s OK for him to come out as gay, some 250-odd years after his death. In the second, he gets engaged to Nigel (John Hartman), the ghost of a British soldier Isaac accidentally killed on the battlefield. In the third, he leaves Nigel at the altar and then is sucked into the ground by someone else he’d wronged: the ghost of a Puritan woman named Patience, who is played by Jones’ friend and “Senior Year” co-star Mary Holland.
In the Season 4 premiere of “Ghosts,” Brandon Scott Jones’ Issac faces a Puritan ghost named Patience, played by his friend and “Senior Year” co-star Mary Holland.
(CBS)
And now in Season 4 of “Ghosts,” premiering Thursday, audiences find out what exactly Patience has been plotting and whether any of the other estate’s living or dead inhabitants will even notice that Isaac is missing.
“I think the friendship [between us] helped it in a fun way because she’s such a great character actor and a great actor in general,” Jones says of Holland. “It was fun to be surprised by all the choices that she was making. At one point in the script, her character is described as, ‘unhinged and insane.’ So a lot of what you’re seeing, if I’m acting and I’m being terrified of her, it’s also an underlying level of delight watching my friend, which is really, really nice.”
Port and Wiseman stress that they mean no offense to other members of their extensive cast and that it’s merely a coincidence that each season has ended with a big Isaac storyline. They also say that there has been a conscious effort to not make Isaac’s queerness the defining thing about him or to push him into a flamboyant stereotype.
Brandon Scott Jones on playing Isaac Higgintoot in CBS’ “Ghosts”: “I think about him being constantly one step to the left of history.”
(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)
“He’s much more than just that one trait,” says Port. “He’s a military man. He’s a guy from the colonial days. He’s got a bunch of different factors to his character and personality.”
Jones, who is gay, ponders the question when asked if he thinks queer characters should be played only by queer actors.
“My genuine, honest opinion is that the process of playing a character is the process of finding empathy for somebody that you don’t know,” Jones says, noting that he felt a connection to Eric McCormack, a straight actor, and his portrayal of Will, a gay man, on NBC’s “Will & Grace.” “If we’re denying people the chance to kind of step into those shoes, then that’s problematic to me. If a straight person wants to play gay or a gay person wants to play straight, and we feel like we can’t do those things, then, to me, it starts to feel like it’s a snake eating its own tail.”
Modern-day fandom can be intense, so much so that the minuscule details of an actor’s personal life are dissected — a topic that was skewered in “The Other Two.” Jones says he doesn’t like that actors, writers or casting producers could feel “a massive desire to appease a crowd of people instead of just [play] the character.” But he also doesn’t want casting directors to claim that there are no gay actors for these types of roles simply because they’re not looking.
“I just hope that the stories that are being told are being told authentically, whether that means from behind the camera or the writer or anything like that,” says Jones, adding that “there’s also a part of me where I’m like, if somebody wanted me to play a straight character, I would like to think that I could do it.”
This season will see Isaac plunge further into his post-life crisis as he (sometimes literally) loosens his colonial-era ponytail and lets his hair down.
“After a breakup, he’s trying to reinvent himself,” Wiseman says. “He takes his hair down to see if that changes his attitude.” (He says this fits within the rules of “Ghosts,” which doesn’t permit the deceased to change what they’re wearing but does allow them modifications).
And fans will learn more about that biography.
“There’s a part of you that wonders does he just want a book about himself, regardless of how factually correct?” Jones teases.
Maybe Isaac, like the person who plays him, just wants to create a part for himself.
Comedy is a matter of taste and preference — it’s a deeply personal thing. Which makes it hard for a critic to give a blanket assessment of a specific kind of comedy, especially if it didn’t work for them, but clearly worked for others (the laughter or lack thereof is the indication). “It’s not funny,” the critic says, “well I had fun,” someone else can reply, and then we’re at an impasse.
Which is the dilemma one finds oneself in with “Gail Daughtry and the Celebrity Sex Pass,” a very strange and shaggy Hollywood satire of sorts from David Wain and The State crew, still riding the goodwill of “Wet Hot American Summer” after all these years. If only this were as funny.
“Gail Daughtry” lives in the same world as that iconic summer camp spoof, as well as Wain’s 2014 rom-com parody, “They Came Together,” in that he’s playing with genre convention and expectation, taking well-known norms to the goofiest extremes. But those films hewed more closely to their respective genres, while “Gail Daughtry” is totally scattered, combining crime and spy movie tropes with a fish-out-of-water comedy and a Hollywood send-up. It has far too many ideas for its own good, and yet no ideas that are good enough to sustain this bizarre curio of a comedy.
What’s ironic is that one of the problems driving this wacky plot forward is the characters have to come up with a movie idea to pitch to star Jon Hamm (playing himself of course), leading them to do some pretty inane and shockingly violent things. It’s almost as if Wain and co-writer and co-star Ken Marino had no idea for a movie, then baked their search for an idea into their script, and then turned it into a madcap adventure about a woman on a quest to have sex with Jon Hamm. What an ouroboros!
OK, about the sex quest. Gail Daughtry (Zoey Deutch) is a chipper hairdresser from Kansas born without the part of the brain that recognizes sarcasm or irony. She’s a cheerful, Pollyanna-ish naïf whose literal-mindedness is almost as extreme as Amelia Bedelia. Her childhood sweetheart and fiancé Tom (Michael Cassidy) is the same. She tells him about the concept of the “celebrity sex pass” as a joke, and he promptly boinks Jennifer Aniston at local book reading.
(Nitpicky aside: why didn’t they use the common nomenclature “hall pass”? Is it copyrighted? “Celebrity sex pass” is clunky and sounds like an off-brand version of the well-known slang.)
That infidelity crisis is how Gail ends up in Los Angeles determined to bang Hamm, collecting a motley crew of similarly clueless helpers along the way. There’s her best friend Otto (Miles Guttierez-Riley), her salon bestie; Caleb (Ben Wang), an overly ambitious intern at Creative Artists Agency; Vince (Marino), a screenwriter turned paparazzo with a heart of gold; and John Slattery, as John Slattery, down on his luck. An accidental briefcase swap has a pair of thugs on their tail, in a forgettable and underdeveloped B-plot.
With a parade of celebrity cameos and collaborators in bit parts, “Gail Daughtry” at times feels like an excuse for Wain and co. to make something at home with all of their friends. Fair enough, it’s great to see all these people employed, but what about what we’re watching? Behold, the Los Angeles of the middle-aged working comedian: the CAA lobby, the Chateau Marmont, Griffith Park, etc. And the plot is as half-baked as the pitch they present to Hamm.
What’s actually interesting about this comedy is the distinct streak of despair and even resentment that reveals itself at the climax, a feeling of helplessness and uselessness. Everyone’s been striving to make it in this crazy town: the intern, the actor, the paparazzo. But not even Jon Hamm can help them get a movie made; even he feels inherently powerless. There’s an unexplored anxiety vibrating there that feels the most thematically fruitful, about what it means, some 25 years after bursting onto the scene with a generation-defining comedy, about maintaining the work, the drive, a sense of purpose, after years of strikes, and in the face of a constricting industry. Do they still have it? Is the dream still alive?
Maybe that’s why Wain and Marino need to invent a dreamer stand-in with Gail, a guileless eternal optimist who knows nothing of the craven Los Angeles and accepts everything at face value (though she is filled with a scary bit of rage too). She might behave like she has a head injury, but she’s going to achieve her goal, dammit. “Gail Daughtry and the Celebrity Sex Pass” might not be as funny as “Wet Hot American Summer” (for this critic), but reframed, it serves as a fascinating status update on life in La La Land for this troupe.
‘Gail Daughtry and the Celebrity Sex Pass’
2 stars (out of 4)
MPA rating: R (for sexual content, violence/bloody images and language)
Running time: 1:33
How to watch: In theaters July 10
Entertainment
Emily Ratajkowski’s viral essay on sex life as a single mom scores her a seven-figure book deal
Emily Ratajkowski’s viral essay detailing her sex life as a single mom just landed her a seven-figure book deal.
According to Page Six, the model’s essay in the Cut had publishers champing at the bit in a 12-way bidding war that culminated in the hefty pay day. Editor Helen Rouner at Penguin Press — who also edited Lauren Christensen’s memoir “Firstborn” and Michael W. Clune’s novel “Pan” — reportedly landed the deal.
Penguin Press did not immediately respond to The Times’ request for comment Friday.
Publishers Marketplace announced the forthcoming memoir, describing it as “an examination of modern female identity through the story of the author’s own efforts as a newly single mother in New York City to discover what really constitutes a good life for a woman.”
The essay, which dropped a month ago and quickly broke the internet, drops the veil on EmRata’s sexual adventures (or maybe misadventures) since she and her former husband, Sebastian Bear-McClard, split in 2022.
“It was a violent transition into a new reality of screaming baby on my aching tit and ring on my swollen finger,” Ratajkowski writes of new motherhood. “And then, in a time period that felt both instant and excruciatingly slow, my marriage collapsed. Six months after my son was born, my husband and I stopped having sex. Less than a year later, we separated.”
In the missive, the model interrogates her sexuality — is she a Madonna or a whore? — while untangling bigger questions around gender, power and self-actualization. If Carrie Bradshaw wrote about “Sex and the City,” then Ratajkowski is writing about sex, the city and single motherhood. And naturally, her fleeting paramours have vague monikers: “Vegan Graffiti Artist,” “Spanish Gen-Zer” and “Son of a Billionaire.”
“And then there was the Elder Millennial: obsessed with dental hygiene, psychedelics, and dirty talk,” she writes. “He had approached the subject coyly at first, like it was something he was kind of embarrassed about — the way a kid will test you to see if you’ll talk to them about their dorky obsession of the moment. Do you like Godzilla? What about Star Wars?”
Would-be sleuths with Ratajkowski’s essay and a gossip rag handy will have their work cut out for them.
This will be Ratajkowski’s second book. The first, “My Body,” dropped in 2021 and was a bestselling collection of essays exploring gender, power dynamics, sexuality and the commodification of female beauty in the modeling and entertainment industries.
Ratajkowski’s foray into the spotlight came more than a decade ago when Robin Thicke’s controversial “Blurred Lines” music video made the model an overnight star. She was cast in David Fincher’s adaptation of “Gone Girl,” which hit theaters the following year, and catapulted to top fashion runways — Marc Jacobs, Versace, Victoria’s Secret and Dolce & Gabbana, to name a few. She she’s been romantically linked to Harry Styles, Eric Andre, Shaboozey, Brad Pitt and Pete Davidson, among others.
In 2023, she moonlighted as the host of the “High Low With EmRata” podcast, where she interviewed sex workers, investigated ethical nonmonogamy and pondered the etymology of the word “toxic.” The same year, she told The Times that she was coming into herself post-divorce, “Being able to assert what I want — that feels like it just started: My life as a creator and not as a muse.”
Wainheads will be delighted to see his alums in cameos: Kerri Kenney-Silver, Michael Ian Black, Thomas Lennon, and supporting roles for Zickel and Truglio. A large portion of the cast are his homies. But with Deutch, Gutierrez-Riley, Wang, Slattery, Impacciatore, and yes, Hamm, it’s as if they’re being inducted into a new mad family. Wain and Marino are basically catching Pokémon and hoping they can hold onto the roster (by that logic, yes, Paul Rudd is a legendary Pokémon). The film is anchored by Zoey — everything everywhere all this summer with Voicemails From Isabelle to Minions & Monsters — Deutch in the Dorothy Gale role, exuding a high level of perkiness consistent with the character’s can-do, wide-eyed, midwestern charm and heart.
A major standout, Ben Wang finally gets to show off his comedic abilities, portraying a self-assured, quick-witted agent who makes me laugh every time he reveals his sheltered upbringing in snappy whines at every inconvenience. Sabrina Impacciatore, who has proven to be a comedic juggernaut in The Paper, is having so much fun hamming it up as the mob boss-esque wicked witch counterpart, torturing her henchmen and deliciously chewing up the scenery whenever onscreen. I don’t think they use her to the height of her comedic prowess, but she’s a delight nonetheless. John Slattery is the film’s comedic MVP. The way the writers use his over-the-top character for comedy is downright hilarious every time. They use him as either a punchline or a force of nature, and he’s great. This movie is like Mad Men propaganda, and by God, it works. As someone who’s never seen it, Gail allowed me a better appreciation for Slattery and Hamm.
Man, we don’t deserve Jon Hamm. This is the second time I’ve seen him play a silly, fictionalized version of himself this year (the other being the SXSW crowd-pleasing rom-com Wishful Thinking, which Gail distributor Sony Pictures Classics acquired), and he also voice-acted in his comedic Mayor Jerry role in Hoppers. Maybe working with Wain in 2007’s The Ten was the canon event, but I consider his weird little sex scene with Kristen Wiig in Bridesmaids his awakening. Since then, I’ve only seen him as unserious, and it’s delightful. Oz-like in appearance, he’s funny and befitting the film’s overall light, joyful nature.
LAST STATEMENT
Ultimately, Gail Daughtry and the Celebrity Sex Pass is a campy, delightful romp that succeeds as both a distinctive Hollywood‑centric riff and a Wizard of Oz reimagining, retaining a loving, twisted, demented charm. It’s a weird description, but it’s so high‑spirited and light‑hearted despite being strangely ultraviolent. It might as well be a live‑action episode of Smiling Friends (RIP), yet it’s everything the theatrical market needs today. Ten years ago, this would’ve been a studio production rather than an indie Sundance acquisition, but thank God it exists for the big screen. More absurdist Gail Daughtrys for cinemas (not streaming), please, because this is the most fun to be had in a theater all summer, if not the year thus far.
-
Sports8 minutes agoWorld Cup fans flock to In-N-Out, Erewhon and Trader Joe’s for a taste of California
-
World18 minutes agoHundreds of thousands evacuated as Typhoon Bavi barrels towards China
-
News45 minutes agoWith the white nationalist group Patriot Front, what you see is not what you get
-
New York2 hours agoHow ‘The Wire’ Star Jamie Hector Spends a Hot Day in Brooklyn
-
Los Angeles, Ca2 hours agoBurglars ransack Sherman Oaks condo building during fumigation
-
Detroit, MI2 hours agoMetro Detroit weather forecast, July 10, 2026 — 11 p.m. Update
-
San Francisco, CA3 hours agoClassical music series helps reconnect downtown San Francisco community
-
Dallas, TX3 hours agoDallas police officers, paramedics recall saving woman stuck in a ravine for days;
