Rhea Seehorn says she’s on “Team Carol.”

In the Apple TV series Pluribus, actor Rhea Seehorn stars as Carol, a bestselling romance author who suddenly finds herself living in a world where everyone around her is bound together by a “psychic glue.” They share memories and knowledge and they are happy and peaceful. The only problem: Carol’s not interested in joining them — especially if it means losing her own sense of self.

“I would absolutely be Team Carol as far as arguing the necessity and the positives of individual thinking,” Seehorn says. If the world were taken over by group think, she explains, “There’s never going to be a joke that you haven’t heard. There’s never going to be a surprise behavior that makes you laugh. And that’s just such a source of joy for me that I just can’t imagine that contentment is the same as happiness.”

Seehorn previously played Kim Wexler in AMC’s Better Call Saul, co-created by Vince Gilligan. He is also the creator of Pluribus. Seehorn says Carol’s character was originally imagined as a male protagonist, but was rewritten for her to take the starring role. Gilligan “wanted to play with tone and take wild swings as far as [the series] could be darkly comedic, or it could be darkly psychological … and he was impressed at my ability to do those things,” Seehorn says. “I’m certainly very thankful for it.”

Interview highlights

On playing angry characters in Pluribus and in Better Call Saul

There’s this idea [that] anger can be a miasma almost, that can spread. And we’ve all seen horrible things can happen when you just are riling people up. … But at the same time, it is a necessary emotion, which, I think, is one of the arguments in the show that I side with — the idea that all of the emotions are important, not just happiness. …

Because I’m a woman playing the role … it felt as though I was taught that anger was unpalatable, specifically from females, and that I should find a way to make it palatable. … When I was much younger, I would scream. As a teenager, you know, screaming, yelling, like the typical arguments you have over hairspray and idiotic things as a teenager. … My parents were divorced, and so it was a household of three women, my mom, and my sister and I. … But, you know, you kind of grow out of this. …

I don’t think it’s OK to scream and yell in someone’s face, but I think I have become conflict avoidant in the suppression of that anger to a degree that’s not healthy. I will stand up for somebody else, though, in a heartbeat. If somebody else is being mistreated next to me, I’m in there. I’ll take you to the mat. But if it’s at me, I tend to swallow it and try to figure out how I can make it better.

On how she prepared to play the role of a romance novelist

I went to The Ripped Bodice, which is an amazing romance novel store. … And I just slipped in and looked around. And I have to tell you, one of the first things that struck me is the amount of sub-genres and the specificity of these sub-genres. … I watched a couple of people do readings from their books, and I was really surprised at the breadth of people, of fans, listening. There was a lot of people dressed like early Stevie Nicks, in a beautiful way. But then there was also … [a] couple that looked like they came straight from a corporate job. … People younger than me, people older than me. It definitely widened me to how huge this genre is and how much it encapsulates all the different novels it has.

On changing her name from Deborah, which was her first name, to Rhea, which was her middle name

I got a little chunky in puberty, and kids started yelling at me, “Hey, fat Debbie, do you want some more Little Debbie’s?” (which are snack cakes.) … I was just like … I just need a fresh start. And I think I identify more with my middle name. And weirdly, there was no issue with kids that had known me forever. Everybody just sort of was like, “Yeah, that makes sense.”

On her father being a counterintelligence agent

I knew he was investigating things and I knew that they were secretive, but I didn’t have a lot more details than that. And I am loathe to say that my head was too far up my butt as a teenager to actually be interested in what my parents actually do. And then he died when I was 18, so I didn’t get to ask a lot of the questions that I wish I had asked. …

My Dad’s favorite answer to everything was, “What are you, writing a book?” If you even just said, like, “Where are you going?” … And I thought I was so brilliant when I was 15 that I finally had a comeback. And I said, “Yeah, I am.” And he said, “Well, then leave this chapter out.”

On her father’s drinking

Apparently he was a heavy drinker for most of his adult life, but it just didn’t get labeled as alcoholism, you know? And my dad was the life of the party and very, very smart, very, very funny, with a super dry wit. … The idea that he was in the Tet Offensive and, as far as I know, never talked to anybody about it, and that you would have a life built of a lot of secrets. … I don’t remember him ever saying that he had anybody to talk to about it. So I just bring that up because I think self-medicating was going on for quite a while before it physically became a full-blown issue and then full-blown disease. 

On how she became an actor

I was obsessed with television, film, and as a kid in the suburbs in Virginia, I’d never known anybody that had even the loosest association with the entertainment business and thought it was just an impossible dream. And then, in my first year at George Mason University, you had to take an elective in the arts that was not your major, and my major was fine arts. And so I took an acting class. … It was not an emotional, ooey-gooey class — I took plenty of those later — but this was a hardcore, do-your-homework, script-analysis class using practical aesthetics that was developed out of the Atlantic Theater. And I just was in love with the fact that if you work really hard and study, you can incrementally get closer and closer to being good at this and hopefully one day great at this. …

And then I started going to D.C. theater, which I think is some of the world’s best theater … and [I] was just like: Immediately, I have to do this for my life. I don’t know how many day jobs I’m going to have to have. It was not about being famous. I knew that I had to be an actor and I’d support myself, however I had to.

Lauren Krenzel and Nico Wisler produced and edited this interview for broadcast. Bridget Bentz and Beth Novey adapted it for the web.

Instagram/@eltonjohn

The pop icon, Elton John, has revealed the astonishing news about a forthcoming graphic novel called ‘The Lost Lands,’ in which he has provided the foreword that is originally meant as the first chapter of the Ultimate OZ Universe. This animation ushers in the extinction of L. Frank Baum’s original Oz tales, which John retells were his sources of inspiration during lonely childhood days in Pinner, England. However, the good news was soon getting mixed with thousands of comments that blamed the artwork connected with it for being done by a machine, thus triggering a heated debate about the meaning of art in the digital age.

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In his announcement, Elton John shared his personal tie to the Land of Oz. He described himself as a “very lonely” boy when he discovered Baum’s stories and the stories “multiplied” his own imagination and gave him “a wonderful life of storytelling, imagination, and creativity.” He expressed his wish that the public would be as fond of “The Lost Lands” as he is, presenting it as a great inheritance of Baum’s legacy declaring “the triumph of good.”

The comments were anything but pleasing. The very next hour the comments section had turned into a battlefield discussing whether the paintings had been created by human hands or AI. The detractors were pointing out anatomical errors that they were confident had come from AI and thus gave away its production. One person said, “Just take a look at the hands with your own eyes in the second image. One of them has 7 fingers and some of them have none.” Another person remarked, “In the second slide notice how short the guy’s arm is, he’s at the bottom in the middle. It’s AI.”

A few of the netizens were sorry for the situation, recognized John’s talent and help but were aware of the fact that he might be backing AI art. One user expressed, “It’s unfortunate that my favorite artist resorts to technology that is taking away jobs from other artists,” and added a crying emoji. Another user commented, “If you can’t afford AI, hire artists.” Also, some users shared their worries about the planet and one of them referred to it as “the water-wasting resource-burning climate-changing planet-warming AI slop.”

The discussion was getting hotter and at the same time, the defenders of the artwork were coming forward. A lot of comments were mentioning that the artist Mike Deodato was credited in the project. “The artist is literally mentioned in the post this isn’t AI!” a user insisted. Another said, “Those who see this as AI-generated are presumably the ones without brains THE ARTIST IS LITERALLY TAGGED IN THE POST and if you had more than two brain cells you would recognize that this is the work of a very talented artist.”

The skeptics responding to the defense right away argued that the use of AI by established artists raises an even bigger ethical question. “It’s not right when non-artists make ‘art’ with AI, but it’s even worse when established artists are doing that in their works,” one person said. Another remarked, “A name attached to it doesn’t change that. Just take a look at the hands in the second photo.”

The whole issue was ringing a bell of a very serious ethical question regarding disclosure and consumer rights. One enlightened user wondered, “If it is the case, is that at least being disclosed to buyers? People should know if what they are purchasing was made by AI or not, regardless of their opinion. The consumers should be able to make informed choices.” This point illustrated that the AI art debate is actually about the purity of art versus the legitimacy of the market.

Amidst the arguments, some supporters were rejoicing the project. The official Ultimate OZ Universe account posted, “It’s incredible and an honor to have Elton John be a part of our Ultimate OZ Universe graphic novel.” Another admirer commented, “I adored this book SO much, what a fantastic new take on Oz, which has always been my personal and preferred mythology.” John himself humorously questioned if anyone noticed “familiar faces in the artwork,” tagging his husband, David Furnish. This project also brings to mind his most ornate album cover ever.

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The magnitude of the reaction has highlighted the societal concerns about the impact of AI on the creative fields. What started as a sincere homage of Elton John to a character that inspired him during his childhood turned into an unintended battleground in the discussion about technology, art, and authenticity that is still going on. As the AI devices become more skilled and easier to access, the matter of distinguishing between human creativity and machine production becomes more complex. The passionate responses from both sides show that the separation is of utmost importance to many, whether they are pointing out the mistakes in a tin man’s hands or debating the very existence of art as we know it. This situation is reminiscent of Big Boi’s behind-the-scenes moment with Elton John and Janelle Monae, showing how artists collaborate across genres. The discussion also brings to mind Ozzy Osbourne’s final memoir and its success. Fans of Elton John’s retro Captain Fantastic ad will appreciate this new creative direction. Finally, Elton John’s reflections on his early career with Bernie Taupin show his long-standing commitment to artistic collaboration.