[Editor's note: The following contains spoilers for The Nevers, Season 1, Episode 6, "True."]
The Part 1 finale of HBO's The Nevers delivered a shock to the system for anyone expecting the continuing story of Amalia True (Laura Donnelly) and her fellow Touched, struggling for acceptance in an alternate Victorian London. Instead, Episode 6 of the series dropped viewers into a far-off ravaged future, where a team of soldiers wages war against a vaguely defined foe, while also encountering the alien creature known as the Galanthi who ends up being the catalyst behind everything.
For sci-fi fans, yet another twist in this episode packed with surprises was the casting of a very familiar face: Pitch Black, Stargate, and of course Farscape star Claudia Black. A veteran actor with decades of experience in genre storytelling, Black plays lead soldier Stripe, who (as Episode 6 eventually reveals) was sucked back into the past to occupy the body of a suicidal young woman — who would eventually come to be known as Amalia.
Black was cast prior to production on The Nevers shutting down due to the pandemic, but did eventually shoot her scenes under COVID precautions. Those production restrictions, on top of the wildly imaginative storytelling, made things difficult, but when I spoke to Black on the phone about the experience, she had plenty of positive things to say about her time on set, especially about how she and Donnelly worked together on their performances to create the identity of the character they would essentially share.
"The most fun I had on set was the collaboration and also knowing, and always remembering, who exactly we're making this for. We never lost sight of the fact that this was supposed to be a mind fuck, pardon my French, for the audience. And everyone delighted in that, to collude and to have fun," she said.
While The Nevers was not a traumatic experience for Black, when I spoke with her on the phone about the finale, we did talk about trauma. A lot. This is because Black, after a lot of self-examination and healing, is speaking out more about her past experiences, including the real instances of misconduct and sexual harassment, that, she says, put her in "survival mode" for years. Now, she's very conscious of living in "a culture that is sort of traumatized without realizing it, that is now starting to address and look at trauma," and has recently become trained as a provisional Somatic Experiencing Practitioner in trauma treatment.
This came up because The Nevers as a show has been overshadowed by the departure of series creator Joss Whedon, something she discusses here. But the context is important. This is the time for conversations like this one with Black, who was candid about how her years of experience have led her to a deeper understanding of the nature of trauma: how it affects us all and our behavior towards each other.
It was a long talk, approximately an hour, and the below has been slightly condensed and edited for clarity. But it also puts into context not just how Black perceives trauma, but why it's important to talk about it, even in the context of a TV show. As she said, "It's a complex time... perhaps by starting to have these discussions, at least, we are now starting to weave a culture that makes space for the radical changes that are necessary."
Let's begin, though, with The Nevers.
Collider: When I recently talked to Laura Donnelly, she mentioned that you were cast prior to COVID, and that you got to have a little bit of interaction. What was that like?
BLACK: She was my lifeline to understanding certain things, and it was a really rare position to be in, having these really funny conversations with people about the gig. They're like, "So is it a role that you could recur? Can you come back?" I was like, "Look, I know anything is possible in science fiction, but this is the first time in my career that I've played a character that is a prequel to the lead." It's complex and lovely. And so, every time I would run into Laura, I would make recordings for her, and I'd do lots of different versions. Because as an actor, we were in a very weird situation.
It became interesting to just get an insight into some of the mysteries that [Joss Whedon] was trying to drip feed and manage very closely. Certain things have been embedded from the beginning. And I didn't realize how intentional some of the things in the script were. So it was really hard, sometimes, to tell what was really important and what related to things that were already established. There would be little behavioral things that had been scripted, and then Laura would explain to me the genesis of them. That became quite exciting to me, but also daunting, because this is Laura's baby. Certainly character-wise. So I was wanting to make sure I could really fit into the puzzle that she had already created.
And yet, they are essentially in a way, as far as the audience is concerned, up until a certain point, two different people. Laura ended up being sort of burdened with the responsibility (which is very rare in these situations, considering she's the lead) of having to take on some of my character endowments — things that Joss wanted my version of the character to be, and so Laura would have to adapt to that. Usually, everybody is leaning into what the lead has created, but she was so great and so adaptable and so generous and so open-minded.
I didn't want to lock her into a line reading, because there would be dialogue that she would have to start morphing, to create this transition from Stripe. So, I said, "Look, do you want me to just record the dialogue for you, to start having some kind of reference?" We knew that the script was going to change, so we did it multiple times. But I would then record it, all these different ways that I could think of... I didn't want to start dictating her the choices that she would make, even with the line readings.
And we would meet each other in the stairwell, as we were passing through on our schedules. And I'd be like, "Was that okay, or is it crazy to give you too many?" She goes, "No, it was amazing. The more you can give me, the better," And so, she was an absolute delight. I would say to her, "I want to honor what you're doing." It's like the egg experiment in school, where you're tasked with the responsibility of keeping an egg from not cracking in high school, between you and your room partner in the class. That's what I felt like I was constantly doing, was passing the egg back to her in the most reverent way possible.
It was just really lovely. We had such limited interaction with people, and it was quite miraculous that we were able to shoot. I honestly thought that the show was not going to necessarily go away, but that my opportunity to be involved with it would go away. Because legally, there are so many things on a contract normally that has to protect people in terms of insurance, from things such as force majeure. And for a global pandemic to hit when it did, I really didn't think the character would come back to me.
So I was just so grateful and so delighted. And it was just lovely, because it meant that people had fought for me to play that character. They'd enjoyed what I did with the audition sufficiently, that they really saw me in that role. And that's always magical for an actor. It was surprising, and I was very grateful.
It was just weird, having to be sequestered off into these pods, but we had this amazing COVID specialist, Shannon, who took care of us and set the gold standard, as far as I'm concerned. I don't know if I would have felt any ease at all had we not been in such great hands, but we certainly lacked some of the normal interactions that would have facilitated all of our processes more. But the time I got to spend with the actors in my pod was... I mean, I loved it. They were such a great group of individuals. And as a group, we just all got on so well, under tough circumstances. And they were all incredible professionals, who were really vibrant and joyous. It felt like wartime, in this weird way, with COVID, and then also the things that we were portraying. So we found these moments of real delight and joy where we could, in a very dark storyline.
I mean, it's a dark piece. And you just answered a question I had, which was if there was an audition process, or if you were just offered the role.
BLACK: Normally, it's interesting, because I've done so much work in this genre, I'll get offers. And my reps and I would talk about it and say, "Yeah, we'll just do offer only on this sort of stuff," because it's weird now with my life. There's only so much energy and time I literally have to put into things.
When this came along, it was a self-tape. But given the pedigree of it... I'm sure that no one at HBO knows who I am. And it's a dream of mine, career-wise. I've always wanted to work on HBO, since I was a teenager. And so, I was like, "Yeah, sure. This will take me two seconds to put down on tape." I just knew the territory of this character so well, for so many reasons, and I knew what they were looking for. And I think the script would have been confusing to most people. But for me, it's just a language I've spoken for so many years. I just understood it, so it was very easy for me, to just put it down on tape.
I'm so technically inept that I actually went to a friend, who's an actor and has a little studio, and he does self-tapes for people who are really inept like me. We did one take, and he just looked up at me. He goes, "Yep, that's it." And I went, "Wait, what?" And he goes, "Yep, that's it. What else are you going to do with that? You did it. Nailed it. Totally saw the whole character. That's it."
When I actually met Joss on set — he's very softly-spoken, or he certainly was when I was working with him. Everyone in the crew and cast would be straining to hear what he was saying, and it was so hard with the masks. But he said something really lovely about my audition tape, that he and his partner had been re-watching it because... Or his partner had been watching it and saying that she just, for some reason, never knew what I was going to do next. So it felt different every time. And I was like, "Well, there's something magical about me in this role."
It just seems to be a really great synthesis, and it seems to fit really well. I'm always trying to do things in sci-fi that are not a repeat of something I've done before. Sometimes there's an homage and people are being deliberately referential, and sometimes that's fun to do. And sometimes it isn't, it just feels like a repeat. But this felt like a way of honoring two things, my career in science fiction and also me personally, being a person who's a survivor of complex PTSD. So it was quite personal for me in fact.
I love that you say that, because I feel like, as a fan of your work prior to this, it's fascinating to see you get to do something that's similar but different.
BLACK: Right. That's what happens. We have this joke, it was a line from Pitch Black, actually. Cole Hauser's character says, "Same shit, different planet." And I've been saying that for the last two decades. As limitless as space should be as the new frontier for humans, we repeat so much of what's already been done in the storytelling around it. It makes me laugh.
So the projects I choose, it's normally, yeah, this is new. They've got a new take, they've got a new angle. And it's odd, because people will ask me, "Well, why science fiction?" There's a lot of reasons, but I'm just not the picket fence girl, and I've never tried to be. And in some ways it's a shame that I'm not, because it would give me more range in some ways or more opportunities. But on the other hand, I don't want to play what's on offer for most of those characters.
But also, I would say, if I track it back now, with my PTSD, which, from a lot of my life, certainly my young adult life, was latent. Trauma can become an identity, or people will assume that it's your personality. And so there's sort of two of you duking it out at any given time, if not more parts of you, because trauma really fragments you. Parts of it lend itself well to being a performer and being able to create from different parts of yourself. But it also meant, for me, that I was personally pretty armored because of things that my nervous system was creating as natural protective defenses against the world.
It's really crucial, as an actor, to know what you're bringing into a room. So I knew that at least what I could bring into the room was sort of something that was pretty intimidating. And that was just sort of like battle armor, I guess. So I ended up being able to play roles that a lot of women can't or don't. And I guess from my own lived experience, I now had this skillset and this way of being that lent itself especially to action and science fiction. But then would have this great opportunity to start expressing and exploring the vulnerability of these characters, so they would be probably, I guess, quite like me. Sort of a tough nut, or a tough candy on the outside, and a very soft center on the inside.
So these roles find us. They choose us. I'd like to think I have range, but I also have to be realistic about, yeah, what finds us and why. We do end up getting pigeonholed, to a certain extent, but I'd much rather be playing strong, interesting, complex, flawed characters than ones that are limited by a sort of mundane or quotidian mindset, culturally. Which can really dominate. So, for me, working in genres where people are being highly imaginative, that will keep my interest. You know? I also have ADHD, so doing a play for a year would really probably drive me mad. But now that I've got a lot more trauma treatment under my belt, maybe my nervous system would allow my brain to sit with something for longer periods.
But it's a really interesting time for me to be looking back and seeing how my traumas have informed my work and my life. And with COVID and this job, it seemed sort of dovetail into this fascinating opportunity for me to look at the why and the why nots. And everyone's been doing it, it's been a time for self-reflection for those of us who've had time to reflect. For others who've been on the front lines, there's been no time for rest. And now that I have this trauma credential under my belt, which I acquired in part to heal myself, it's time for me to start giving back too. So I have been working with people who are closer to the frontlines, if not on them directly, and that's been really humbling too. I know that's more than you were expecting in this interview, but it's all connected.
It is, but I really appreciate you sharing that with me.
BLACK: Yeah. I've not really discussed it, but I'm starting to sort of discuss it, because I know that the PTSD was an important theme [in The Nevers]. I didn't realize, actually, how central it was to the whole piece. And it's really weird how it connects with me and who I am becoming, and what's been unfolding for me. I'm really... I mean, obsessed is a dramatic word. But I'm so fascinated by it and captivated by this concept of human potential, and what limits it and what suppresses it. And I would say, for me, trauma is probably the biggest impediment to any individual, apart from resources and the socioeconomic aspects. Which also have their own trauma embedded in them. The trauma that I've seen, in clients and in myself, is what can often limit us from having the fullness of the life that I think everybody deserves.
And so, for me, that's encapsulated in these things within The Nevers, as well. Just these people who would normally be the underdogs, the outcasts, the underrepresented, the ones that haven't been given a fair shake, and a large focus on women therefore in this piece.
I feel very driven to explore themes in the storytelling, as a performer, and in other avenues, especially with the trauma work, to support people who are... They just need a few more resources and a few tools, and they can reorganize themself, organize, and get where they're going. So I'm always rooting for those people, and I guess that part of myself that just has to keep getting back up again and giving it a go. I was joking the other day that I feel like I fell out of the tree of life and hit every branch on the way down. And a lot of people identify with that, you know?
Especially during COVID, I think people have just have had so much taken from them, there's just been so much loss and so much grief. And I think we're really, genuinely, living in a traumatized nation. And starting to explore trauma, head-on, in any way, I think, is a huge way forward, for all of us, by whatever means. So this feels very timely.
What can you say about The Nevers going forward?
BLACK: It sounds like they're going to be able to continue. They ended up having... I don't know if they originally were going to split production and do a certain amount first and then the second amount of the first season. But then because of COVID and the way Joss needed to write it, certain things stretched. I think the things that were revealed in Episode 6, some of it had to be rushed forward, I think. If I remember correctly. It's so tyrannous when TV schedules, and filming, and the environments and things that happened, especially in a global pandemic, what that then forces upon the filmmakers and the people creating it and weaving the story.
It's so hard for the writers and people creating to morph their art when there are external circumstances that are beyond their control. So I don't know exactly what the original plan was, but from what I understood, some of these elements were being brought forward because of how production was being shaped as a result of COVID. I'm very curious to know how it all pans out.
Do you have an expectation of maybe coming back for more?
BLACK: Well, given what we've already discussed about the character and her place in this world, I don't know really what the chances are. I honestly don't know. I don't know if it was originally Joss's intention, but I think he had certainly mentioned to someone that he was sort of looking for ways to continue with me. And now that Joss is gone, I don't know if the same intentions will be there. I just don't know how much of this was mapped out on the page, and how much of this was sort of been carried around in his head, alone. I don't know any of that.
So yeah, I honestly can't answer. I'm normally wrong about this stuff — I'll go, "Oh wow, this is a recurring role. How cool, this is going to go on forever." And the times that I've thought that, the character hasn't because the show got axed or something happened. Something happened to the child of whom I was the parent, and so then my storyline finishes. That sort of stuff would happen. The times where I've been most doubtful and been like, "Oh, they can't possibly bring me back," are when they have. So I'm the wrong person to put money on in having the answer to that, to be honest.
This is a sensitive topic, I know, but where do you land on the question of Joss, at this point? I ask this as someone who has been a big fan of his work, and also someone who's been closely following all the conversations that have been happening around him as a creator right now.
BLACK: I have personally, in the past, experienced severe sexual harassment, and so this is an incredibly serious subject. And so, for me, I have an inclination towards believing the people who are not in the position of power, who have had difficult experiences in this regard.
Joss's final statement in the press, before he left the show, was that, not in his words but my paraphrasing, he had nothing left to give. My experience of working with him throughout the year, from my initial meeting with him, which was very brief, to some communication over emails that were very... They were very pleasant. And then, just everything, I think, sort of gradually devolved, and I had the sense that he was under an exceptional amount of pressure. Which is not excusing his behavior, but... I don't know how else to frame my experience with him other than, it didn't end the way it started, and he was clear that he was behind and under a ton of pressure. And I sensed that I was now working with someone who was sort of dissolving, by his own admission in his public statement. So I was witnessing something and experiencing something, and I didn't put the pieces together until it was over and things started to hit in the press.
And I think there were a lot of factors. And from what I hear, there were no other reports on The Nevers about people having issues. And that can mean two things — that there literally were no problems during The Nevers, and it could also mean that people didn't feel comfortable to say anything. I have worked on a production where I, myself, had to be the one to report things, in the past, and when I would report them, it was just me and I was on my own. And it was an extremely lonely place to be, and it felt, honestly, dangerous to pursue.
Really, from my personal experience, I would say I was witnessing a lot of people... If I would be talking to people, they would say, "Oh my God, we're under so much pressure to get this filmed under such extraordinary circumstances." Everyone just wanted to get it done as efficiently as possible. I didn't personally have an experience that was, at the time, reportable or warranted reporting. I just felt like everyone was doing their best to give Joss what he wanted.
The responses from all of the departments were, "Well, I don't necessarily understand this." I mean, it's context and he was doing things, and taking risks, and doing interesting things, and not a lot of people had necessarily come from sci-fi. A lot of the crew had come directly from Game of Thrones, so it was fantasy but not necessarily the same. And so when people weren't exactly sure, they'd say, "Yeah, we'll have to ask Joss about that. Look, this is his baby and this is his creation, and we have to give him what he wants. We have to serve his vision."
And so I think about that now and I ponder, what happens when all of this is put on someone's shoulders and it is all theirs to birth, and they do have all the power? It's a tough situation. I was shocked that he was leaving his own show, but it's obviously for good reasons. Obviously things were occurring on another production, and I fully support all of the artists who were involved, and I don't doubt any of their reports, whatsoever. From my experience, I'm just sort of piecing it together myself. And regardless, I just think that it's a broader topic, as well, to deal with.
Because we are watching what some people describe as "cancel culture," which, to me, is usually a sign that there's been no accountability. I think there's a middle ground. Nothing is really binary. So I think in our culture we have to pave the way, somehow, for those who are making toxic choices and actually need help, that they are finding help. And not abusing these positions of power. And I think the women who were so brave to come forward, in the Weinstein space, it's been at such enormous cost to them.
All of these people who've spoken up, for decades, in this industry and in other industries too... I don't think people really understand what an enormous cost there is to the individual, to come forward. And so the whole system continues to enable the person who's in the position of power. So we're in a relational space where we are co-creating the monstrous behavior. But the people who are not in a position of power have no choice, because their careers are going to be destroyed. So I'm not sure. I just sort of sit with this at the moment and I think about, how do we all, who've been in the business all these years, find ways to create that safety. Relative safety as we talk about in the trauma world, because absolute safety isn't realistic or possible. But how do we weave culture that changes all of this?
And I do it myself as a female on the set, it's not solely on men's shoulders to create this environment. But at the same time, when there is a huge power differential, the person who seems to have, or definitely has more power in this position, has to have a responsibility of creating safety. That's what all artists deserve. It's like women birthing, we want to have that proverbial cave that we're birthing in where someone is standing like a sentinel at the mouth of the cave, keeping watch to make sure we can get quiet and feel safe to go into this very sort of primal process. And that's what creating is like too. If we're going to hand over our greatest vulnerability to people, that has to be treated with reverence and safety. And we have to be in a container that creates that and affords that, and makes that possible.
I just want to create the world that I would like to be in. This lack of consent and the things that go down, because people like to instill this idea of non-verbal communication... Why is that primary and so important? Why is it given so much importance in courtship? Or in rom-coms? It's the tension created from what people don't say that then create this incredible catharsis at the end when these two ostensibly adult people finally actually express their true feelings for each other.
It's like, why do we spend two hours witnessing ostensible adults not communicate in a healthy fashion? I think the way we tell stories and the storytellers that we are on set, we have a huge responsibility. And so for me, it's in those individual interactions, person to person, whoever they are.
Let's set some boundaries. Let's honor each other, and let's honor the fact that, as people, we are coming with all of our lived experience to the table. It's required of us to hand ourselves over in certain ways, and to express vulnerabilities. It's a cornerstone of our craft. But who are we handing it to? And why? And how is it being received? And who's creating that container for us?
So, I mean, I just think it's such a huge subject, and I just keep thinking about my past in it, and also wanting these people to be accountable. And until they are, it really limits people's healing and it really limits the culture's ability to move forward. And so to that, we have to somehow create a space where people know that treatments exist.
Trauma used to be a dirty word because there was no cure for it. And now, in the last four decades especially, bonafide cures have been developed and come into the culture. I'm trained in one of them. And I have seen the shifts that can happen, in real time, in people when they use the right tools for them. And tools that have the proper intention, and are being wielded by people who have the right intention. I think a lot of us won't claim the parts of us that we're most ashamed of, so we all get stuck in this shame-inducing culture. Until we find the right tools to metabolize, and process, and digest our shame, we're going to continue to do things, ironically, in the process of trying to avoid feeling more, that we take more shameful action and we perpetuate more shame.
So that's the cycle that I believe needs to be broken. And I think part of that is developing this awareness around the fact that there are treatments, and there are bonafide cures. And I think that everything we do that is maladaptive, all of the pathology and the pathologizing that happens has a base in trauma. When we talk about mental illness or mental unwellness — this is my personal opinion and my professional opinion — it has a trauma base. Trauma can be one moment of shock where we held our breath because we were surprised. Trauma can be energy that just hasn't found a way out of the nervous system. It doesn't have to be something that people, universally, would agree upon as being a traumatizing event. So we all have energy that hasn't been metabolized. And it's that energy that will hold us in our limitations and in our shame.
I've had very humbling moments, recently, where I've actually found shame in myself. And I didn't even know how to label it or identify it, because it was so old and it happened so long ago, this particular event. That I didn't even realize that what I was feeling was shame. And so I think... That is what I have to say about my experiences [with Joss]. That I think I was witnessing a person that likely, for whatever, by their own admission when they left the show, needs help in one way or another. Who was also able to give people great experiences. And so I hear people talking about artists that they can no longer support because they're abusive. And I sit with this all the time, and I think, what do we need to do in the culture? I think people are so convinced that they, personally, are not creative, that they go into the money side of the business and they refer to other people as the creatives.
Everybody is creative, it just gets shut down. And if you're unlucky enough to be in a school system where they've defunded the arts, then I think that plays a huge role in us shutting down those essential parts of ourselves. Then those who do go onto become creative, the whole process becomes sort of mystical and mysterious. And it doesn't have to be. Too often, creative people's behaviors are enabled and allowed. Because I think people who consider themselves not to be creative, on the money side, think, "Well, we don't want to..." It's like kicking the hornet's nest, if we sort of question this and the choices they're making, do we lose the whole production? Because the story's in their head right now. And if we question them about this, do we lose everything? Is it going to turn into an ugly confrontation? Or are they going to walk off and disappear? And, are we not going to have a script, on time?
So I think we have to really dismantle the way creative people are indulged and enabled. I'm not talking about specifically The Nevers, I'm talking about the industry at large. Because people get to positions of power where their choices are not questioned, because what they've been able to create has been so great that the aspects of their behavior, and the way they go about achieving their results, have just... They're immunized against consequences because the content is king. So that's where the power is.
A lot of writers became directors because they were sick of people, in their eyes, destroying what they had written. And so there's enormous power for writers becoming directors. And a lot of those writers become directors. Again, this is not specific to any particular production I've worked on. But what I've experienced, in 30 years in the business, is often the writers do not have the skillset required for directors, in terms of communicating and the way they behave on set. So there's a lot in that mix. I think, obviously, what I'm talking about is a broader discussion about the microcosm and looking at my place in the microcosm and how I can help support a shift, at a time where this country and the culture is at a tipping point. And there seems to be the energy and the impetus to actually create change. Because there are so many people in the entertainment business who, like me, are traumatized, but a lot of them don't know. And that creates limitation, and that creates an inability to heal and move forward.
Assuming that these that occurred are actually true, I really hope that the people involved are all able to get the help. And that people in positions of power will actually be accountable and responsible, and get the help that they need. And if people really truly do get the help that they need, then that, to me, is an incredibly powerful story that needs to be told. Without it, we get stuck in this binary system of people being terrified of cancel culture. And yet, it's really... Well, right now, as far as I'm witnessing, experiencing, a culture of accountability that is demanding accountability. So if we can pave our way to that, then I think I will be able to speak on it in a more succinct way.
I really appreciate your candor. You mentioned there was a production you had to report. Can you say which one it was at this point?
BLACK: I can't discuss it right now. But if there becomes a time where I can discuss it, I shall. I have reported and I have done everything I can to the extent that I can, certainly on a more recent production. And I don't know, at this point, how that will be taken forward. But I have made it very clear that I will not continue working with those people, because there's no safety for me. I need a baseline of relative safety, and I was not given that, and I had to create that safety for myself, on those jobs. That took so much out of me, to have to do that.
I have a professional obligation to complete those jobs, so I am being a professional. Sometimes you work on an independent production, where it's not like the corporate environment with WarnerMedia and HBO, where they have a very established corporate environment where they have protocols through HR departments. Sometimes, oftentimes, when you work on productions, there is no HR department. So it's handled by the producers, and how they handle it determines what happens. And we all have individual choices too.
I had a choice to walk away from the production, one of these productions, early on, and I didn't because I knew that there were a lot of innocent people involved whose work would not be seen, whose paychecks would not happen if I walked from that production. So there's this massive responsibility. That's a discussion that actors, who've been around as long as I have, depending on what number they are on the call sheet... Are they a lead? Are they one of the leads? I feel we have a massive responsibility.
Whenever I have felt I am in a position where I can do or say something, [I do]. I've canceled stunts after talking to my stunt performer who was doubling me on productions. I would talk to them first and say, because it's their work on the line, I would say, "This doesn't feel safe to me. How do you feel?" And they would feel that it was a very difficult position to be in, that they couldn't themselves cancel it but they would be comfortable for me to put my two cents in about it. Because if the stunt performer's stunt gets canceled, they don't potentially get paid for the day. So there are all these weird aspects to it, that require nuanced discussion and healthy communication.
What you're catching me in is a tough moment of reckoning for us all. I am still coming to terms with the impact of harassment that I experienced, and abuse that I experienced on other productions. And I'm now becoming more vocal about it, and it's a process. And so I feel for everyone who hasn't felt the safety to come forward. Because I can say, without hesitation, that my career was, and my reputation was severely threatened by speaking up, even in small ways.
The Neversis streaming now on HBO Max.