“Always Work with Your Friends”: Catherine Keener on Showtime’s Kidding and Building a Career in the Arts
Photo: Erica Parise, Showtime
Though the who-wouldn’t-want-to-see-this premise of Kidding is that Jim Carrey stars as the Mr. Rogers-esque host of a children’s TV program who may (or may not) be wound tighter than his beloved ukulele, Showtime’s new dramedy is really a lesson in denial.
Created by Weeds alumnus Dave Holstein, the series draws on the dream-like worlds that have become the trademark of its director, Michel Gondry, in projects like his 2004 film collaboration with Carrey, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. In doing so, Kidding follows Carrey’s character and his family as each chooses to process or repress the tragedy that one of his twin sons has been killed.
But while there’s plenty of time devoted to how various characters are coping with one of life’s greatest tragedies, there are other, more worldly matters that the living need to address. Jeff (Carrey) seems to have embraced the world of pure imagination, so much so that he fails to see that his manager-father, Seb (Frank Langella), is looking to cash in on the golden enterprise of Jeff’s beloved song-and-puppet show before the veneer crumbles. Jeff’s long-suffering, now-estranged wife, Jill (Judy Greer), is guilt-ridden about the loss of their son, even as it makes her grapple with the frustrating pressure that her husband’s picture-perfect public persona puts on her. And then there’s Catherine Keener’s Deirdre: Jeff’s sister and a skilled puppetry artist in her own right who long ago squashed her dreams and independence to help with the family business, protect her brother, and ignore any warning signs that her husband, Scott (Bernard White), may have had dalliances with a neighboring (male) piano teacher.
“I think she wanted to be an artist; she wanted to be a puppeteer,” Keener tells me when we speak at the Television Critics Association press tour this summer, performing her own act of suffering by chatting outside on a 100-degree day wearing all black and in full makeup.
The way Keener sees it, Deirdre was a “beautiful artisan,” but just “didn’t have the joy that” Jeff did. She wonders if “maybe [Deirdre] felt she had less to give” because “you need the depth of that [joy] to have more to give.” Maybe she was struck with the predicament that so many siblings of creative types face: Someone has to be the rock—and provide financial stability—when your father attempts to monetize the whimsical videos your brother starts making in his dorm room.
Later, during Kidding’s TCA panel, Keener elaborates: “Jeff was always the precious one that, as his older sister, I really wanted to preserve his innocence and purity and creativity.” She adds that, as Deirdre, “I thought that there was something in me that wanted to burst out, but I think that when life goes on and you realize, ‘Maybe I’m not the best mother—or not even near the best mother—and I have this creative thing inside of me that I want to express, too,’ we kind of bumped and moved away from each other.”
Deirdre does make some questionable parenting choices—not letting her daughter, Maddy (Juliet Morris), bathe until she eats her vegetables is chief among them. But she’s also the type of mamma bear who will corner the aforementioned piano teacher to ask if he “hand-fucked” her husband. (Maddy catches the men while helping Dad bring in the groceries, but hasn’t fully comprehended what she witnessed. Her mother suggests that she switch to her second-favorite instrument.) Deirdre’s also the type of sister who doesn’t trouble her grieving—possibly regressing—brother with issues from beyond his cherubic bubble when they share a mean together, eating the same style of TV dinners that have probably nourished them for years.