There’s a scene in the finale of Hulu’s new series, How to Die Alone, in which creator, co-showrunner, and star Natasha Rothwell strips down to her bra and underwear and plunges into the freezing waters of Lake Ontario. Her character, Mel, was technically the one who decided to take the leap—but as far as Rothwell is concerned, she wasn’t acting at all.
“That is Natasha on camera, not Mel,” the 43-year-old says with a laugh. “They didn’t want me to do it. They wanted a stunt person to do it. They had medics on standby. They had heating pools. They had people in the water with me, because it was a cold plunge. It was 32 degrees or something.”
Freezing temperatures were the least of Rothwell’s concerns. “For me to strip down in my underwear on national television…if I were to tell myself even in my late 20s, early 30s that I would be undressed, I’d be like, ‘You’re a liar. Go back to the future because that’s not happening.’”
As it were, the star of the upcoming third season of White Lotus says being that vulnerable on screen was probably the most cathartic moment of her life. “I was just able to be present and not be like, ‘Oh my God, they can see my stretch marks and my back fat.’ I had done something big and brave.”
Doing those big and brave moments have become something of a rite of passage for the Emmy-nominated star, best known for her roles on Insecure, Love Simon, and the first season of The White Lotus, as well as her impressive writing credits on Saturday Night Live, Insecure, and How to Die Alone, among others. From fighting to keep the title of How to Die Alone—“that was a non-negotiable for me…it’s provocative, and I knew it would attract the right audience”—to talking openly about the shame that still follows 40-something single women, Rothwell is learning that there’s a sense of power in doing what terrifies her. “It’s almost like a can of worms I’ve opened, where even if it is scary, it’s so much more rewarding [to face your fears].”
Rothwell points to her therapist and medication for making a lot of that more manageable. “God bless beta blockers to get me down red carpets,” she says, laughing. “That is not my natural habitat. It scares the shit out of me.”
But she’s doing it, fully aware that not following her creative dreams would be more devastating than any embarrassment or disappointment. “I felt a responsibility to Mel’s story,” she says of her TSA employee alter-ego, who decides to start really living her life after a near-death experience. “I was just like, ‘Okay, I’m going to have to get it together and walk in this space that terrifies me in order for this work to see the world.’ I valued that over my discomfort.”
Now, with the first season finale of Hulu’s How to Die Alone in the can (and the hope for more), Rothwell opens up about her frustrations with society’s still-outdated view of single women, fighting to see her dreams come to life, and the very exciting projects on the horizon.
Glamour: You star in How to Die Alone. You also created it, wrote it, and are the co-showrunner. How many Natasha Rothwells are there to do all of this?
Natasha Rothwell: There’s a legion of Natashas. [Laughs] But I love doing this work. It was so fulfilling and exhausting, but the good kind of exhaustion. I hear that’s how people feel when they work out.
Listen, I work out, and I still don’t know what a runner’s high is. Some of us just aren’t meant for it.
Exactly. I don’t know what a runner’s high is. I know what an edible is. There are some things I’ll just never, ever know, and that’s okay.
I have to tell you, How to Die Alone really hit me in ways I hadn’t seen before on TV. As someone who is in their 40s and single, no matter what I’ve accomplished professionally, I’m often made to feel less than because I’m not married. People have no problem telling me what I need to do about it, as if they have all the answers or have been in my shoes.
Oh, don’t I know it. I wrote this whole show about it because that was what I was going through. I’m 43, I turn 44 this year. For the longest time, being partnered was the goal. It was not professional accomplishments, it wasn’t saving the world. It was just, “Who are you dating? When are you getting married? Why don’t you want kids?” I wanted to create a show that challenged that and really prioritized the satiating of feeling lonely as opposed to the alone piece.
So, everything you’re saying resonates with me. I am so excited by the response because so much of the love I’ve gotten on social media are people, women who are of a certain age and are like, “Thank you so much for writing something that celebrates this moment. It’s cheering us on in our autonomy and allowing ourselves to have a different path than what was prescribed to us by rom-coms and Disney.”
I love that Mel isn’t afraid to own that she hasn’t experienced a lot of firsts at her age, whether it’s flying or falling in love. Your show is helping to normalize that not everyone has these experiences in their 20s or 30s.
It was scary to do. I kind of knew because my circle of friends are a bunch of badass single women who are all my age, and it was like, I don’t see that being talked about. I don’t see that being reflected to me on television. I don’t see that as being valid, as being normal. I wanted to have a character, a protagonist, that was having a lot of firsts that were delayed. And I use delay loosely because I think that’s kind of pejorative to be like, “She wasn’t on time.” She’s exactly on time.
Yes, you nailed it. I always refer to myself as a late bloomer, but I also know I’m on the timeline I’m supposed to be on.
Any of those milestones, whenever they happen, that’s exactly on time. I was so caught up for so long in this idea of timing and viewing things in my life as like, “Oh, well. When I’m married, when meet the man of my dreams, that’s when I’ll do X, Y, or Z…” I was feeling like I was living a life that was a rough draft of actually living. It’s like, “No, I want to actually do these things and not wait for this particular narrative to unfold.” Because the truth is it may or may not. I cannot control the dying alone piece. No one can.
But I can sure as fuck can control the lonely piece. So let’s change the narrative a little bit about what we’re expecting from people on this journey of life. You know? Because I think it’s causing a lot of people to feel unfulfilled when it doesn’t have to be that way.
I am sure you’ve gotten it too, where people say, “Oh, don’t worry, it’ll happen,” or “it will happen when you least expect it.” I know that, and I hope it does, but I don’t know for certain.
People don’t know, which means I can’t hold my breath for it. I can be open to it. If he walks in, great. If he doesn’t, I’m still going to be happy and fulfilled. My hope is that the show can be a catalyst to others living in that way and seeing it as something to celebrate and to not stigmatize.
But it’s hard. I love love. My parents have been married for 47 years. They’re very in love and obsessed with each other. I don’t want their exact marriage dynamic. They have a lot of traditional ways of interacting that don’t fit my feminist sensibilities. The version of what I’m looking for may not be the version of what even my friends are looking for.
I read you have already started thinking about certain scenes in season two.
I have. Season two hasn’t been announced. I know nothing. But, knock on wood, if there’s a season two, I’m excited to continue to explore these themes. When I first sat down with Vera Santamaria, my co-showrunner, I was very clear that I see it as four seasons of television…because you want to know where the character arc and story arc will end, so you can build up to that.
Could you see yourself doing all three roles—acting, co-showrunning, and writing—for four seasons?
It’s a lot, but yes. I also want to direct next season. It’s such a personal story, so I can’t imagine giving that piece away. It’s not for being over-controlling, but I’ve waited so long to tell this story and have such a clear vision. Once you get a green light to make a series, more chefs enter the kitchen, and there are a lot of thoughts and feelings. To me, it’s just out of love for the thing that I’ve created, that I would want to continue in those aspects and those roles. But also, I just love it. I really do.
It took over seven years to get How to Die Alone made. How did you stay optimistic?
I didn’t put all my eggs in one basket. I sold other projects, worked on other things, created Big Hattie productions, and moved other stones up the mountain, as it were. If I had just put all of my eggs in one basket, I would not have continued to grow in all of those other areas.
Just like romantic timing, I think creative timing is also divine. While I would’ve wished it happened a long time ago, I’m just glad at this moment. It seems like it’s hitting at the right time culturally, and people are really needing it right now. So for that, I’m super grateful. There was something in me where I knew I could not put this on the shelf and walk away. In the seven and a half years since I pitched this show, I didn’t see this story on TV. It needed to be told.
You said you worked on other things, one of which was The White Lotus, which was a hit right out of the gate. What was your reaction when Mike White asked you to return for season three?
What is the saying? Anxiety is just excitement, but with expecting something bad to happen. There’s some sort of phrase that encapsulates that. So it was definitely excitement. It was over dinner. Mike had come back in town after shooting season two and said, “I want to talk to you about perhaps doing something in season three.” I was obsessed with him from Dawsons Creek, Freaks and Geeks, and Enlightened. When I met him and started working with him, it was wonderful to know that he was just as good as I had hoped he’d be.
So, when he sat down and told me what he was thinking for season three, it was just pure excitement. But I also hadn’t read a script. I was like, “Wherever you go, I’ll go.” That was the deal. I was definitely happy that we were going to be able to revisit Belinda and her life and get to know her more.
What did that do for your confidence going back, this time as an Emmy nominee from season one? How was the Natasha Rothwell going into season three different from the one that walked into season one?
Terrified. I mean, as the cast was being announced, I was like, “Oh my God. Oh my God, oh my God.” I’m impressed by the breadth of their careers. I was very nervous showing up to a dinner the first weekend. I have social anxiety. I usually find a place where my back is near a wall and I can plant myself. I was watching them come in and tried to not be like, “Oh my God, that’s Parker Posey. That’s Walton Goggins. That’s Leslie Bibb. That’s Michelle Monaghan. That’s Carrie Coon.” By the end of dinner, Carrie comes up to me and says, “I’m so excited to meet you.” She was saying all the things I was thinking about her. She’s like, “We’re nervous to meet you. You are season one.” I was like, “I am season one.” It took me a second. So it was cool to be reminded of who I am through the eyes and the likes of fucking Carrie Coon and literally everyone I just mentioned.
It was really cool to be back as Belinda and be back in the world Mike created. It felt like home. It really did.
I heard the humidity in Thailand was truly something to behold.
Yeah, it was like MMA but acting. It was extreme sport. God bless Rebecca—Becks—our makeup artist, because every time she’d set our face, sweat would run down. But it bonds you together. We were like, “We have to get through this swampy take.” We were sticking ice packs everywhere. It was a fun time.
In addition to The White Lotus, you’re also adapting the viral TikTok series, Who the Fuck Did I Marry? What spoke to you about that? And when do you start?
Everything’s in a very nascent stage. There’s really nothing to report about the project itself. Her series was the most public expression of radical vulnerability I’d ever seen, and this experience [of making How to Die Alone was] radical vulnerability every day, every moment of doing my own show. So, game recognized game. I remember just seeing how raw and honest Tareasa ‘Reesa Teesa’ Johnson’s story was and how not just the story interested me, but her. She was more than her trauma.
I thought, if she resonates with the kind of storytelling that I do and wants to explore a partnership, then I want her to choose me. I didn’t want to fight for fighting’s sake, and I’m so grateful that she chose Big Hattie Productions to tell her story.
It takes a lot of energy to constantly put yourself out there and not know the outcome. Do you reward yourself for taking those chances, I hope?
My therapist actually said the same thing, so I treated myself to some jewelry. I’m not a jewelry girl, but I wanted to get me something that celebrated having done a scary thing. My therapist said, “There’s so much of this process that you don’t have control over, and nothing is promised.” I agree with that. And so, waiting for something bigger to reward myself…nothing’s gained by continually moving the finish line.
That really resonated with me, so I got a piece of jewelry that’s not ostentatious. It’s meant to symbolize that accomplishment. So, I am learning. The next thing would probably be a massage. It’s really difficult for me to do something that intentionally and to do something that doesn’t have a return on investment, like, “Oh, this will lead to that so it’s a prudent choice.” To do something just because I fucking want it.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
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