Sophie Thatcher Is Not Scared of You

Sophie Thatcher has startling green eyes that penetrate as though accessing some forbidden truth. You can observe them onscreen, bearing witness to untold terrors — roasted bodies, botched resurrections — in bloody thrillers. They roll slightly now as she explains the promotional rigamarole she’s been forced into during her stay in New York, less intense but still mesmerizing. We meet for coffee in the Financial District, right before the 24-year-old actress is scheduled to get primped for a four-hour photo-shoot. She looks like an art-school dropout in drapey layers and shaggy, newly blonde hair that’s usually much darker. Her lips purse in a devilish smirk. “It’s the most ridiculous thing,” she says, her tone tart and a little menacing. “They ask us questions, but then we’re distracted by these adorrrable, cute puppies.”

Thatcher doesn’t give off a puppies-and-laughter kind of vibe. She’s a tousled alternative kid who stars in horror movies and likes underground rock music. Her gothic features rest in a kind of scowl. When we chat, she’s in town to promote the A24 film Heretic, a talky religious thriller about two Mormon missionaries (played by Thatcher and Chloe East) being held hostage by a fanatical recluse (Hugh Grant) who interrogates them over their beliefs. The 24-year old actress drew upon personal experience for the role: She grew up Mormon but left the faith at 14 and imagined her character, Sister Barnes, as a more uptight version of herself who stayed in the church instead of leaving to pursue acting. “I was trying to find the voice in her head, and it’s kind of self-deprecating, just how I felt like I was younger,” she tells me. Thatcher grew up isolated from her peers because she was always in and out of school for auditions; her dad left the family, an absence she channeled into Sister Barnes, whose father is said to have passed away from Lou Gehrig’s. “I’m always playing characters with dead dads,” she observes wryly. “That’s a funny parallel.”

Thatcher’s characters tend to be jaded misfits thrown into harrowing situations, either forced into murder or desperately trying to escape it. That’s the case with Natalie, the punkish trailer kid clawing her way through the wilderness with her soccer teammates on Yellowjackets; and Iris, who seems to be living in a rom-com until the music stops and she’s suddenly mysteriously covered in blood in the upcoming romantic thriller Companion. Thatcher is a master of intensity, conveying skepticism, shock, and fear with just one look. For her next chapter, she’s touring her debut EP, Pivot & Scrape, and exploring beyond genre acting — though, of course, as she says, “I’m fine with staying dark.”

You grew up Mormon in the Chicago area under circumstances slightly different from what others might imagine. Your parents are liberal, and your older siblings are atheist. Tell me what your childhood was like.

I started acting professionally when I was 10. I’ve always been in and out of school. I remember feeling so out of place. All my friends were going out, kind of discovering who they’re friends with, what they’re into. And I just couldn’t do that. I always had this fear that if I went out the night before a production, something bad was gonna happen. I’m very superstitious. It’s weird when you’ve done a show 200 times. Thinking back with that, I’m like, Wow, I was braver than I am now.

I was just lucky enough to grow up around the arts and have an open-minded family, to an extent. My mom loves theater and drove me everywhere — I did a show in Indiana, and so we drove to Indiana every fucking day, eight shows a week. She found her group of friends through the plays that I was doing. I still send her my self-tapes. I’m still dependent. My dad loves movies. My parents split when I was 14, and he’s out of the equation. It’s interesting to get texts from him now. I’ve blocked his number and stuff, but I get texts from him now and he’s like, “Yellowjackets is doing great.” Haha. Fantastic.

When did your older siblings leave the faith?

Pretty early on. We’re all strong characters. There was nothing to fight about because they were so adamant. It’s interesting to imagine: If I didn’t have them, would I still be in the church? I don’t know, because my parents were definitely the misfits — they divorced. From an early age, I didn’t believe in anything at all, except going to hell.

What were your interests growing up? Where did you develop your taste?

I remember my older sister, Ellie, had really good taste. She was into French New Wave — there’s an Umbrellas of Cherbourg poster in her room. She went to NYU Tisch for acting, but she’s more writing and directing her own stuff these days. Growing up, my older brother was the ultimate hipster. He lives in the Republic of Georgia and would show Ellie and I a lot of Eastern European art. He’s a war journalist. I found a lot of stuff by myself on the computer.

What sites did you visit?

Tumblr. I was on there for hours. I started a shoegaze blog called “aprilskies,” after the Jesus and Mary Chain song, and literally the band Ringo Deathstarr started following me. I was like, Do they know that I’m 13 years old? I was always in chat rooms like Stardoll, where I’d come up with elaborate lies. It was me testing out a new persona. I was obsessed with My So-Called Life, and I’d just be Angela Chase, literally IMDb the quotes and put them into the chat room.

Sounds useful for acting. What drew you to the script of Heretic?

A24, first answer. I just thought it was smart, and the references felt close to me. I was like, Hugh Grant singing Radiohead? That’s it, I need it. After I heard Chung Chung-hoon was going to do cinematography, I was like, I have to, he’s a legend. I’m working kind of backward in my career, where I’ve done a lot of mainstream movies and I would kill for an indie right now. Even though I’m working with Hugh Grant, I’m like, This isn’t a fucking indie.

And how did you develop your character for Companion?

I remember them pitching a Britney Spears girl-next-door type. That’s not what I’m gonna bring to the table. I used all these ’60s, French New Wave references. I also sent Drew Hancock, the director, a playlist that ended up kind of shifting. We talked about movie scores, and I brought up Rosemary’s Baby and the Cannibal Holocaust soundtrack. The composer for Companion, who’s amazing, took from those two references. The song that I’m humming in it is very Rosemary’s Baby, and I loved that.

The first words you utter on-camera are always most daunting, because you don’t know your character’s voice. I’ve never felt so scared going to a project. The scene where I speak so many languages took so many takes.

How were you initially thinking about that scene and then how did it evolve? 

I think it was about getting to a certain level of disbelief. Just pumping it up more because I feel like I tend to downplay things when I’m acting. It was about finding this eerie smoothness to the voice and rehearsing that a million times.

At the beginning, I’m handcuffed and screaming and then it goes into this plea for my boyfriend to still love me. I’ve never had a scene that has taken so many different turns, but Jack Quaid is a really fucking good and present actor. When in doubt, just think about the other person. I’ve related to being codependent in relationships, so it was easy to tap into that feeling. There were moments watching the movie where I felt really embarrassed for myself because I’ve seen myself in past relationships be that person.

You’ve spoken about making a “fear map” for Heretic. Can you tell me more about that? 

It’s about going through the script and finding the moments you have to build to. You can’t get to a ten too fast because then there’s nowhere to go. I remember the directors telling me to act less with my hands. At the first peak, when she stands up against Mr. Reed — “One of these guys is a freaking bird head!” — that’s like a seven. I tried a screaming thing, or I was crying, and they used probably the most calm take. Working against the instinct to cry created interesting layers. She’s pushing aside the fear, but then the fear returns and builds up much faster when she gets into the basement.

Fear is a state that you’ve explored pretty exhaustively. What’s next?

Anger — but powerful anger, not from the state of being a victim. I remember doing early Yellowjackets scenes thinking that I couldn’t bring what Juliette Lewis had: intensity and presence and anger at the world, which I do feel in me. Growing up feeling adjacent to a punk or feeling other, you have that inherent anger. Being able to let yourself go within that is empowering. So I want to fully let loose.

What’s your calculus as you choose your upcoming projects? 

I just want to work with cool directors.

Do you have a dream one?

Kelly Reichardt or Sean Baker. Anora — oh my God, fucking don’t even get me started on Anora. I was like, This is why I’m doing what I’m doing. I just want character-actor-driven stories and directors that are actors’ directors, which is what everyone says.

Do you write your own material?

I’ve written short stuff, but I haven’t ever finalized ideas. My older sister makes shorts and made a feature that was amazing. And I would definitely want to work with all of them. I directed one of my music videos that was really satisfying.

Is theatrical acting something you would want to return to? 

Oh, absolutely. I mean, thinking back on it, it feels very far away. I know that I need to work with a vocal coach. I’ve gotten into those strange habits, my diction. I remember doing a play and the Chicago Tribune was like, “She’s great, but she needs to work on diction.” And I was like, fucking 14.

Music is a huge part of your world, and you’ve been making it for a while. What made you actually want to solidify your project and release an EP?

Finding the right people. I recorded this Sparklehorse cover with a producer, Adam McDaniel, who my friend introduced me to. It was my first time in the studio. I felt really embarrassed, and I never had really openly collaborated with people. I have so many demos that sound like shit because I don’t know how to mix, and I’m obsessed with them sounding like shit. I love anything lo-fi. Adam was able to make everything sound lo-fi but professional.

Who are your big lyrical inspirations? 

Silver Jews, Purple Mountains. He’s the most vivid storyteller that I can think of. I mean, everyone compares MJ Lenderman to David Berman. They have that point of view that a lot of artists don’t always have now. For me, the comparisons have been so weird — like, they’ll say, “Kate Bush,” and I’m like, No, no, no. That’s so wrong. You’re just thinking of an alt-girl with bangs.

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