Joan Allen Hasn’t Retired—but There’s a Reason You Don’t See Her Much Anymore

Where did Joan Allen go? That was the first question I wrote down before speaking with Allen, a Tony winner and three-time Oscar nominee. Allen hadn’t filmed a project since the COVID pandemic broke out and hasn’t made a movie in over a decade. Was Zero Day, the Netflix political thriller in which she plays the former first lady and a current nominee to the federal bench (premiering February 20), the beginning of a new chapter? A brief pause in an unannounced retirement? Hollywood finally remembering one of its best, most versatile performers?

coverage of them often indicated. I know you’ve spoken about that, and I thought of it while watching Zero Day, which plays with a similar dynamic.

Yeah, I guess I just don’t really think about it that much. I didn’t feel that way while I was making any of those films because the characters felt different to me, even though in a general way, they were supportive. They were different women and they were different people. What I liked about Zero Day—and we talked about it a lot—is that she was a very valued partner to Bob’s character. He values her opinion, and he looks to her, even though I’m not sure how much you see that in the series. He wants to talk about things with her to get her take on it.

That’s how we approached it in terms of acting—in terms of our nonverbal relationship with each other. Lesli, in particular, talked to me about this as a partnership: It’s Bill and Hillary [Clinton]. He values what her take is. So it’s a little more, I would say, than just putting the TV dinner in the oven. [Laughs]

What do you say no to now?

I will say no to something that would take me too far away from home. I would say no to something that, probably, if I’m honest, had a lot of night shooting. And I would say no to something that isn’t really interesting to me.

When did you decide to start slowing down your career?

It’s been gradual. I have been so grateful and loved my work and career. And I was ambitious. I really wanted to work as well, and I’ve had amazing things. People that I’ve worked with, things that I’ve been involved with have been fantastic, and I think fondly about all of them. But I would say, if somebody said, with a gun to my head, “You have to choose your personal life versus your professional life,” even in my 20s—certainly in my 30s—I would’ve said my personal life. It’s just how I am. It’s in my DNA. There’s no rhyme or reason. You can’t figure it out. That always matters most to me. I’m enjoying time with my family, and I’m in California now visiting my sister who I didn’t get to do that with for years. I want to take advantage of those moments.

You haven’t made a movie since Room, which was filmed more than a decade ago. Will you make another one?

I don’t know. It’s all changed so much, and so much of it is television, streaming, those kinds of things. There are a lot fewer out there, and there’s so many that are made for Netflix and Hulu and all these things—like that seems to be the lion’s share of what’s out there these days.

A lot of your best films—I don’t know that they’d get made today.

Exactly.

That makes me sad, saying that out loud.

I know, I know. That’s why I’m glad to see this year something like—well, I loved Anora. That’s the kind of film I’m, like, thank God they’re making a movie like that. Independent, smaller.

Some of the films that I did were in-between. They were not like a $5 million budget back in the day—which would mean something else financially today—but they were medium-sized. Where’s that? Like, I was shocked when I read that The Brutalist filmed in 34 days.

And in Budapest, and for under $10 million.

That’s shocking to me. Because, well, it also has such an epic feel, and it’s long, and the score is so bombastic and bold.

Did you feel, at the height of your career when you were working more regularly, that the kinds of movies you were making were falling away? Did you notice the business changing?

Yeah. I don’t really know the analysis of the cycles of the entertainment business, et cetera, but the genesis of Netflix really changed it. Perhaps that whole part of the industry went from these independent films to, I don’t know, the streaming services and making things for Netflix and Hulu and things like that. I actually remember when House of Cards was the first one. I thought, Wow, they’re doing that for Netflix—and that’s not a film. Those are film actors.

I don’t know of any actor who’s had a four-year film run that I love as much as yours, from 1995–98: Nixon, The Crucible, The Ice Storm, and Pleasantville. And talk about range—those are completely different roles.

Those years, those were amazing. Wow. Those were something. I was amazed at the people that I got to work with. That was quite a period, and all really close together. I thought Pat Nixon had its own challenge because she was a real person and I needed to try not to do an impression of her, but to get the essence of her. But each one of them were coming on the tail end of each other.

What career experiences remain your most memorable?

I did this Sally Potter film called Yes (2004), which was a very interesting process because we did a lot of rehearsal and the piece was written in iambic pentameter. I have a lot of vivid memories of the process of working on that film.

The hardest ones for me were really the Bourne films. I found that dialogue, that kind of speech, very, very difficult. I found it really hard to memorize, and I would drill and drill and drill and drill, and I could not get it to stick in my head. It was a lot of technical talk and a lot of memorization. But Paul Greengrass was a saint with me, I have to say.

So we’re not getting you in a Marvel movie anytime soon?

I don’t think so. [Laughs]

This interview has been edited and condensed.

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