Photographs by GREG WILLIAMS
Interview by GREG WILLIAMS & JANE CROWTHER

A shy ‘lone wolf’, Mikey Madison is taking awards season by storm. Greg Williams hangs out with her in LA during a pivotal moment in her career.

Mikey Madison isn’t the first in her family to reach stardom or have her likeness loom over Sunset Boulevard on a giant billboard. Her grandmother’s cousin, CH Long, was the ‘Marlboro Man’ – a tough Texas cowboy who became the face of the cigarette brand and covered the August 1949 issue of Life magazine. Mikey owns a copy of the magazine and proudly shows me it when I arrive at her Los Angeles home one afternoon in November. The 25-year-old LA native is prepping for one of many stops on the awards circuit, the Elle Women In Hollywood awards – where she’ll be honoured for her searing role as an exotic dancer who won’t be ignored in Sean Baker’s Anora. CH Long and Mikey share more than DNA and a love of horses. As she has her hair and make-up done in her buzzy kitchen (her mum, sister and best friend are also prepping as guests at the event tonight), Mikey tells me about her cowboy relative. ‘He was debilitatingly shy, and didn’t like being photographed,’ she says of the Life magazine cover star. ‘But they were able to capture some interesting moments with him.’

The same is true of Mikey. After spending several days with her, I’m struck by just how different she is from the character she plays on screen. Ani, a Brighton Beach dancer and sex worker, is ballsy, loud; a big character who enjoys attention and will fight (and kick and scream) for it. Though Mikey has been working professionally as an actress since she was 16 (she was Max in five seasons of Better Things) and is able to fully inhabit psychotic killers (in Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood and 2022’s Scream) and a modern Cinderella (Anora), in person she’s quiet, shy, introspective, kind. The transformation of Mikey to Ani is striking; her performance so lived in, authentic and alive that the awards buzz started as soon as Anora premiered in Cannes last summer. Since then, the actor has been busy being feted, profiled, nominated – a supernova explosion. She invites me to spend some time with her at a point when her life is changing…

As Mikey and her family get ready for the Elle awards, she shows me around her house, which she’s curated in the four years she’s lived there to be her perfect personal space. Unused film-reel canisters from Anora sit on a sideboard in the lounge (‘Sean let me take them’), an Ani-style orange crocheted G-string covers her copy of Walt Whitman poetry on the coffee table that her handy dad hand crafted for her. (‘He also made the dining table, outdoor table and two of my side tables.’). Her impressive vinyl collection is meticulously alphabetised and her bookcase groans with volumes on artists such as Frank Lloyd Wright, Bob Dylan and Patti Smith. As she picks out Tiffany jewels to wear to the event, her rescue dog, a Chihuahua called Jam, runs around at her feet. Mikey loves animals and as she gets ready she talks of one day having a mini pony sanctuary – a place for unwanted miniature ponies to spend their days. Like her Marlboro Man relative, Mikey was a serious horsewoman before acting came calling – more of which later. For now, Mikey needs to get on her way to the Four Seasons and the Elle awards. Laughing, she lies down in the seat of the SUV so she doesn’t crease her delicate cream Ralph Lauren gown.

As we wind our way to Beverly Hills, Mikey tells me about the training she went through to physically be able to essay Ani in Anora, an accomplished pole dancer. ‘I still have my pole, but it’s in my closet because I was totally done, and the film was over. It’s so hard on your body,’ she says. ‘I did months of training, hours and hours a day. Hours of pole conditioning – you have to condition your inner thighs to grip onto the pole, because it’s very painful. We didn’t get to show what I was really able to do in the movie. [In training] I was walking on the ceiling. Would I be able to do it now? No, I would have to do more training. I haven’t done it in almost two years.’

Writer/director Sean Baker wrote Anora with Mikey in mind after seeing her in Scream, making the offer to her agent immediately after walking out of the cinema. In preparation for the role, Mikey trained alongside exotic dancing expert Kennady Schneider and moved to New York to perfect her Brooklyn accent. In May 2024, Anora bowed at the Cannes Film Festival, wowing critics and netting the film the Palme d’Or. For Mikey, it was the first time she and Baker had shared their collaborative experience with the world. ‘It was very surreal. I’m not the kind of person who is able to process things immediately. I need to take time to understand exactly how I’m feeling and articulate it. I think it’s something that I’m still processing. And there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to get too excited for some reason, in case it goes away. But as an actress, it was a dream of mine to go to that festival, and to have our film be in that competition. It was very special.’

When we arrive at the Four Seasons, Mikey steps out of the car and into an atmosphere of celebration. After walking the red carpet she chats with Demi Moore, takes a picture with Saoirse Ronan, gossips with Julianne Moore. It seems to me that a sisterhood of actresses are welcoming her into the group. When we sit for the awards, Mikey’s mom beams with pride and rubs her back as a reel of her daughter’s work is played to the ballroom. Mikey blushes and looks down at her salad plate. At the table next to her, Tilda Swinton looks over encouragingly.

‘Every once in a while you see a performance that makes you sit up and pay attention and fall in love with an actor,’ extols Willem Dafoe onstage. He squints through the light at Mikey. ‘Such is Mikey’s performance in Anora – a beautiful, dramatic, comic performance that is funny, sly, sexy, athletic and touching…’ An actor who has worked with Baker before on The Florida Project, Dafoe is effusive in his praise, welcoming Mikey to the podium to applause. ‘I’ve always had the instinct to be an observer, always more someone on the outside looking in on life,’ she tells the room. ‘Playing Ani changed me, not just as an actress but as a person.’

The next day, away from the lights and the flashbulbs of the event, Mikey shows me round her tranquil garden featuring a massive 100-year-old cactus; ‘This is why I bought the house,’ she says. We wander into her favourite place in the house, her so-called ‘movie room’ – a cosy den with a projector and shelves filled with books and treasures. One of her prized possessions is a huge, old dictionary that she found in an estate sale and now flicks through to note the meaning of random words. Her movie collection is eclectic and large. ‘I spent a lot of time cultivating my space to where it felt like just for me, and only me. I’ll journal and stuff in here, which helps me process things a little bit more.’ As the daughter of two psychologists, it’s perhaps natural that she would journal to help sort through her experiences; her recent roles and meteoric rise to awards frontrunner must have required some processing. ‘I actually feel that as an actor I process things so quickly. You have an immediate reaction to something. I find that when I’m acting, a switch is completely flipped to where I’m so reactive, and I feel things immediately. It’s so grand and big. I don’t have that in my personal life. Maybe I’m just holding it in, in my life as Mikaela,’ she explains. ‘As an actor you get to experience so much, so many emotions, the most heightened feelings that you can feel that aren’t with this safety net underneath you. You’re making a movie. But in the moment, it’s real, and it feels real. You have this deep intimacy with people, and connection. I think that’s what I love about making movies – the connection and the intimacy that you get to have. I want that in all aspects of my life. My job is an emotional job. To me, there’s not a separation between my work and my personal life. It’s all blended together. That’s how I want it to be, because I think that’s how it makes it as meaningful as possible to me. I’ve been thinking about it a lot because people ask me why I wanted to be an actress.’

As she straightens the books on the shelves, she considers the question now. ‘I grew up so shy, debilitatingly shy. I love people. But I’ve always been so scared of them. I was scared of that connection, and would avoid eye contact, even though I wanted it so badly. I wanted that feeling, that intimacy. I would see films or actresses living these incredible, interesting, dangerous lives on screen, and I would think that those emotions, to me, personally feel dangerous to experience for whatever reason. But I want that. I want to feel those things. And I want to do it through the character.’

I ask if acting gave her a portal to be the person that her shyer self wanted her to be. As ballsy as Anora, as fiercely aggressive as a Manson follower. ‘I think it gave me a portal to feel all the things that I was too scared to allow myself to feel, to connect with people on a deep level, a volatile level. I think at times, throughout my life, I’ve been quite passive. But I’ve never been that with the characters I play. I often play very antagonistic characters with a lot of fight, and that is not me. But I love that part of making movies – the connection. But then it’s also so devastating when it’s over. Because you fall in love with this character you’re playing. You embody her. You completely uproot your life, and go to this location, and the people you work with, they become your family and your friends or your onscreen lovers – and then it’s just over, one day. That’s so hard for me, to just walk away from that. I’ve fallen in love with people making movies – I know that happens – and when it’s over, I’m like, “What the fuck. How can that be it?” But it’s not my life. It’s the character’s life, you know?’ She bursts into laughter. ‘I assume I’m not the only one who has that experience. I mean, I think it takes a certain person to be an actor, but also I know people who can just turn it on and off. How do they do that? I don’t know. I have worked with people who have more of a Stanislavski method style of acting. It’s interesting to watch that. It’s not the way I work. I think it’s just more intuitive for me. It’s very emotion-based.’

Later that day, we return to Beverly Hills for Mikey to do press for Anora, this time for the Golden Globes virtual press conference. She does breathing exercises with her fellow cast members before she sits for questions and wonders what Jam is doing alone at home. After the conference, there are more interviews as Mikey is asked about every aspect of the role. During promotion and awards season this is a daily routine. ‘Are you doing more press than you ever have done in your life?’ I ask. She nods and laughs, pretending to curl up and sleep in the elevator as we hustle to the next appointment. Within all of this attention, Mikey remains resolutely herself and I’m interested to understand where this groundedness comes from. The next day, I join her for breakfast at home as she makes vegan chocolate chip silver dollar pancakes. Cooking this breakfast is a comfort for her – it’s the first thing she learned to cook and she used to make blueberry pancakes for her Dad growing up. While wearing a Halloween machete on her head, dripping fake blood, Mikey mixes the batter and considers the special place she’s in right now – an actor in demand and in the process of choosing another project. One she’s hoping to fall in love with as much as she did Anora. ‘There are characters in scripts I’ve read, or people have approached me, and I would like to try to continue on that path of working with them,’ she says of possible prospects. She hasn’t, she says, worked since filming Anora. Purposefully. ‘I saved all my money from this TV show I did when I was younger. So I’m OK, you know? For me, because it’s such an emotional job, I can’t just turn it on and off. I need to love what I do, and the characters that I play. And I know this about myself now. I’m trying to be very specific. I know that when the right project comes to me, I’ll know exactly what it is, and it’ll feel right to me. But right now, I don’t know.’ A believer in manifestation, she’s trying to evoke a new opportunity by waiting, being watchful. ‘I manifest people reaching out to me. I think it’s powerful for me to write things down, and then I unconsciously work towards those things. It’s weird, because sometimes I’ve been thinking of an old friend from elementary school, and they’ll reach out to me a day later, and it’s so bizarre. It can’t just be a coincidence.’

Is she manifesting a superhero movie? ‘I’ve never really acted with a green screen, and that, to me, is the biggest thing. Will I be able to connect with that? Because I like to connect with the environment. I want to feel where I am.’ She serves the pancakes and we sit down to eat. I suggest that she doesn’t appear to be motivated by money. ‘No. I just want to make enough money to have a ranch for my mini pony rescue,’ she laughs. ‘I don’t need a lot. I just want enough so that everybody feels good, and is happy. I don’t like excess. I never want a giant house. I like things like trinkets and little things, but it’s only because I’m a sentimental person. I like to fill my house with sentiment and things that make me feel a specific thing, or things from my travels. I didn’t grow up with excess. But then, when you have that sort of paycheque in front of you, that could change your life and your family’s life. How do you walk away from it, for the sake of creative integrity? I’ve never been in that position. But I can imagine that it would be difficult.’

Today, Mikey is trying on dresses for future events. She puts on a terracotta draped gown and tests it out by lounging on the couch. The Life magazine covered by her cowboy relative lies on the nearby table. She opens the magazine and reads one of C.H. Long’s quotes out from the feature ‘A Texan Holds Onto the Traditions of the West’ with photographs by Leonard McCombe. ‘I’ve had some horses,’ he says, ‘that I thought a lot more of than I do people.’ She smiles. Shyness is, she says, something of a family trait. ‘My mom is extremely shy. I asked my dad – I said, “Was I always shy?” And he said, “Yes. Even when you were a baby, you were shy.” Despite growing up in the dream-factory town, acting was not something she always aspired to. ‘I never thought that I might have a talent for it. It just felt like something that I really wanted to try. I had to try it. I don’t think about myself in terms of being talented. I think that I can play a character in a deep, authentic way because I just know things about myself. If I commit to something, I’m able to tap into that particular person, and their life. The only thing I will say I’m talented at is cooking or baking. I like to feed other people, you know?’

I’m interested to know where this sure sense of self comes from and so we hop in the car to head over the Hollywood hills to her parents’ house in the valley. This was the last home she lived in before she struck out for herself and started making an impression in cinema. She was 21 when she left. When we arrive at the house and let ourselves in we’re greeted by the family dog, Petal, a Chihuahua mix. ‘I love my silly, little Chihuahuas,’ Mikey says, lavishing love on the dog. ‘I’m getting another one, but it’s a big secret because nobody wants me to. They’re like, “You’re too busy to have another puppy.” But I can’t help it. I love them so much. I love their personality, and I love rescuing them.’

Both her parents are psychologists, with dad also pulling double duty as a psychiatrist. That and a busy house of five siblings (Mikey has a twin brother) is probably what has helped her stay level-headed in an industry that can chew up and spit out talent. ‘I knew who Freud was when I was probably about 11 or 12,’ Mikey admits. ‘I’ve always had an understanding or a curiosity about people, and what makes them them, and how people’s brains work, and why they do certain things. I think I’m lucky that I grew up the way I did, because I think it’s probably one of the reasons I ended up being an actor. I can’t judge my characters. I have to completely understand them. When I take on a character, I try not to think about it from a third-person point of view. So when I was trying to understand my character in Anora, it was really challenging to try to get to the core of her. I would write questions like someone else was asking her, “What kind of cigarettes do you smoke?” And I would answer.’

Mikey answered a lot of questions about Ani in Anora – she bought most of the character’s shoes, helped create the private dance she does (she gets a co-credit for choreography), chose the long, signature nails Ani favours, perfected the specific idiolect she speaks with. An audience member having watched the Brooklyn-accented Ani would be forgiven for being confused by Mikey’s real-life soft California cadence. ‘I’m such a California girl,’ she smiles. ‘I worked with a dialect coach, and she was great. I was like, “I just feel like it’s not specific enough.” Because I didn’t want to just sound like a classic New Yorker. I wanted it to have nuance. And so I went to Brighton Beach a month earlier than I needed to be for shooting, and I was listening to people. I was going to clubs, listening to girls. This one dancer/actress, Luna, who plays my character’s friend in the film, has this amazing voice. She had this really acute, modern way that a lot of young women speak that I love, and wanted to add into the film. I got to a place where I just felt like it lived inside of me, you could ask me to say anything, and it would just come out. I wouldn’t be reaching for certain sounds, because I think that’s the way, really, to kill a character.’ That embedding with sex workers in Brighton Beach clubs – she shadowed dancers, dressed like them – forged genuine friendships that led to Mikey hosting a screening of the film specifically for sex workers. ‘It’s one of the most important things in my life – female friendships, and my connection to other women. So it was easy for me to just connect to someone, woman to woman, even if you’re different, and you don’t understand your life. We were all just able to connect and I’ve made amazing friends.’

Ani struggles with love in Baker’s film; what it really is, how to show it – especially in the much-debated final scene of the movie. On the ride over to the house, I had asked Mikey if she was in love herself. With trademark honesty, she answered: ‘No, I’m slightly heartbroken at the moment. In a fucked-up way, it’s kind of a good feeling, too, because at least you’re feeling something – something strong. I know that I love because I feel heartbroken. I know that I can love someone deeply. I would rather be heartbroken than to just feel fine or OK.’ She admitted to wanting ‘lots of kids, and a husband, and a white picket fence’. I can see the inspiration in her family home, full of photos and trinkets from the years of five children growing up there. Outside by the pool there’s a set of gymnastic rings, and Mikey playfully hangs from them.

Upstairs, she shows me her old bedroom, a space that’s important to her in her artistic journey. It’s unchanged from when she left home, complete with baby hats, a white metal bedstead and toddler pictures. It was here that she initially dreamt of being a professional dressage rider. ‘I was sitting on a horse before I could walk. My mom just put me in horseback riding class as an afterschool activity, and it became my whole life. I loved it. But when I was maybe 14, and we would do dressage performances… it wasn’t fun anymore. There was a part of me that wanted something deeper – some deeper connection. I don’t know if I ever thought it was an option, like, “Oh, I’ll have a career in horseback riding, or I’ll have a career as an actress.” I just knew I needed to try this. But I knew that if I tried it, I’d have to put all of myself into it, and I need to stop horseback riding.’

Taking acting classes led to her being cast at 16 as Max in FX’s Better Things, and to roles in small indie films. Around the same time, she developed an interest with the Manson family, fascinated by events that happened not far from her own house. When Quentin Tarantino was auditioning for Manson girls in his take on the story, Mikey felt she was born to play one of the roles. ‘I had no experience in film, but I love Tarantino. In the garage, I made some makeshift art studio and I decided to make a painting like I’m a Manson girl who went on an acid trip with Manson, and made this painting on the acid trip. I wrote this poem about weaving a blanket together. I cut off a big, old piece of my hair, and sewed it into the painting. I was very interested in vintage clothing. So all my clothes were from the ’60s and ’70s. So I wore this very bohemian ’60s dress. I was barefoot, and had a lot of jewellery. I went into the audition, and I read with Quentin, and I gave him this painting.’ She knew she had the role when Tarantino recalled her and the painting was on the wall of his office. She joined an ensemble cast including Brad Pitt, Leonardo DiCaprio, Margot Robbie, Austin Butler, Margaret Qualley and Lena Dunham, and filmed in the Hollywood Hills close to the real once-home of Sharon Tate. She made quite the impression as Susan Atkins, the wannabe murderer who memorably gets a tin of dog food in the face from Pitt and a torching from DiCaprio.

‘Being in a Tarantino film really opens doors for a lot of things,’ she notes as she hops up on Mum’s kitchen counter. ‘People watch it. Directors take you seriously.’ As we take a walk in the nearby hills along a track that Mikey has followed hundreds of times while growing up there, we return to the concept of such a private, shy person wanting to be incredibly vulnerable as an actor. ‘I was a big daydreamer as a kid, and I still am, but I would daydream about being different versions of myself; versions where I wasn’t shy, or I had lots of friends, or I did interesting, crazy things, and felt big emotions. I do think that me being an actor, I’m able to do those things. It gave me the feeling of not being shy. But then a part of me loves being alone. I’m very much just a lone wolf kind of person. It’s a contradiction.’

As we walk and the sun settles to golden hour, I ask her what a great day would be for her. She answers without hesitation, perhaps because in business of promotion and campaigning, personal days are rare. ‘Sleep in. Spend the day with my pets, my friends, my family. I’ll probably hang out with my brother. Go see a movie. Cooking, and eating good food. And being comfortable and cosy.’ Awards season is a marathon – how has she felt about it? A reserved person needing to go out and perform on stages, carpets and at events? ‘You know, I don’t do things to win awards. Obviously, it’s very flattering when it happens, and the conversation is nice. But I feel like it’s not a competition to make movies. It’s a celebration. 

I understand that people are curious about what it feels like, and it excites people. And I recognise what a privilege it is to be in this position. But it is strange, and I feel that I have nothing to protect myself. I love talking to people about the film. It makes me happy, and I want people to see it. But it’s very vulnerable, to put yourself in that position. I’m excited to get back to the acting part of my job, you know?’

As dusk falls, we drive back over the hill to Hollywood. We swing by Sweet Greens salad restaurant for food (‘Very LA of us!’ she jokes) and over her vegan bowl Mikey returns to the idea of protecting herself. ‘I don’t look at myself on social media. I don’t have any of that. I don’t Google anything. I don’t recognise it. So it’s always a bit of a shock to have that projected onto me. I have trouble saying it’s “uncomfortable” because I would never want someone to think that I’m ungrateful. I understand the focus on the character. But me – why?’

Her humble nature is further evident in the ease with which she touches up her make-up in the restaurant mirror and changes into eveningwear in the public restrooms. We drive down La Brea as the billboards are lit up, see her feet-high face on the Anora poster towering over the street. She’s big news in every way. ‘It’s not really me, though, is it? It’s a version of me,’ she says. ‘I think I dissociate from that. I think I have to, and I think it’s a defence mechanism. It’s protection. I’m a trusting person. I generally believe people when they say things. But recently, a lot of people have been reaching out to me, like friends I haven’t spoken to in a long time. But I don’t think of myself as famous. I’ve never felt that, and I still don’t feel that now, because I can’t grasp what that feeling is. Is that a feeling, or is it just how people perceive you?’

We drive on to the Chateau Marmont and she curls up on a bench by the pool that has seen so many icons swim in it. I remind her of the company she was in at the Elle awards; standing on stage with actors such as Tilda Swinton, Julianne Moore, Saoirse Ronan, Zoë Saldaña, Selena Gomez and Karla Sofía Gascón. She has officially arrived. ‘I mean, it’s a nice feeling. I’m intuitive. My job is about meeting people, and deciphering emotion. I can tell when somebody is genuinely looking out for me, and I feel it. I feel it with a lot of actresses that I’ve met recently… I’ll see them, and we’ll lock eyes, and they’ll immediately kind of swoop in, grab my hand, and walk me up the steps. I can feel that they’re being protective. It’s comforting, and it’s nice, it feels safe, and they see me.’ Mikey Madison, despite that shyness she shares with the Marlboro Man, is ready to be seen.