Mary Neely's Strange Clarity

Two weeks before sitting down for this conversation, I ran into Mary Neely in Los Angeles at a movie theater. We were both watching The Naked Gun, a funny overlap, since we both live in New York and had no real reason to be in LA, let alone the same theater.

We’d first been introduced virtually through a mutual friend, so when I officially met her at a screening of her latest film, it felt less like an introduction than a continuation.

Mary first caught wide attention in 2020, when her inventive quarantine musicals went viral online. Since then, she’s carved out a career defined by wit, candor, and a sharp sense of performance that thrives equally onstage, onscreen, and behind the camera.

Her newest project, Or Something, made with Kareem Rahma, follows two strangers who show up at the same Brooklyn apartment to collect cash they’re both owed. Forced to spend the day together on a journey through New York City, they reveal intimate details about their lives, though one of them is hiding a harrowing secret.

Or Something will have its theatrical premiere at Quad Cinema, from Friday, August 22nd, to Thursday, August 28th. Showtimes and tickets available at quadcinema.com.

Below, Mary and I get into how an Instagram story snowballed into a feature film, and the strange clarity that comes from desperation.

Spoiler warning: the conversation below contains details about key plot points in the film.

Gutes Guterman: I didn’t know the process of how you and Kareem became collaborators until I read his Q&A with Megan just now, which was that you replied to his Instagram story. Can you tell me more about that?

Mary Neely: Yeah. I had just moved to New York in 2021. One of the first things I did after getting vaccinated was go to this rooftop comedy show in Brooklyn that Kareem was hosting with Johnny Gaffney. We met there and instantly had this funny dynamic, kind of pushing each other’s buttons. Not in a sinister way, just this energy where I thought, Who is this guy? He had his shirt unbuttoned really far down, which didn’t help.

We started showing each other our dating profiles and calling it “the audit.” Like, what do you think? What should I change? At that point, Kareem was newly divorced, doing comedy, trying to start a band—he hadn’t made the shows he’s now known for. And I was fresh to the city too, just trying everything.

GG: So how did that turn into actually making a movie together?

MN: I had someone who wanted to give me money to make something after I went viral in 2020. I thought, Okay, I want to make a really low-budget, classic New York indie. Around the same time, Kareem posted on his story saying he wanted to be cast in a serious role—like in Jacques Audiard’s La Haine—and that nobody took him seriously. He even said he was quitting comedy until it happened. I thought, Okay, I’ll cast you. We barely knew each other, but we decided to just make a movie. He brought his New York/media sensibility, and I brought my film background.

GG: Did you know right away you’d be co-writing it with him?

MN: Yeah. From the beginning, the plan was to transcribe our real conversations into a film. Post-2020, everyone was scared of putting their opinions online—scared of saying the wrong thing. We thought, What if we transcribe our conversations? It lets us be honest but with some distance.

GG: But it is still you saying those things, right? Just not “you-you.”

MN: Exactly. It’s me, but not me-me.

GG: So did that let you express fuller versions of yourselves?

MN: Yeah, I think so. Of course, we had to change some details to fit the story, but the core of it—the heartfelt conversations—those are ours. The stories, the feelings, the stuff about fear and intimacy and misunderstandings, that’s all real. It’s not polished “dialogue,” it’s basically us.

GG: To me, it feels like the movie is more about friendship than the plot of trying to get money back.

MN: 100%. From the start we wanted it to be about two people spending a day together and opening up. Sometimes you can be more vulnerable with a stranger than with someone you’ve known forever. It’s that Lost in Translation thing—the intensity of a connection that might only exist for a moment.

GG: In the film, desperation kind of cracks things open. Do you think it can actually bring clarity and have you felt that yourself?

MN: There’s this term I love: “the gift of desperation.” It’s the idea that when you’re at a really low point, you can find clarity you wouldn’t otherwise. When we started writing, I was angry and avoidant. I’d been on militant feminist subreddits during lockdown, feeling like good men didn’t exist. Since then, my outlook has shifted, which is both scary and clarifying.

In the film, my character is addicted to drugs but still functioning. She’s at that precarious moment where things could tip. We don’t know if she’s had her “gift of desperation” yet—the movie ends right at that turning point.

GG: You shot it in six days, right? What was that like?

MN: Totally insane. We rehearsed a lot before filming so the lines were second nature. But we had no trailers—Kareem’s car was basically our holding tent. It was winter, so the days were short. We used French hours (no official lunch, just grabbing food between takes) and always had two cameras rolling so we didn’t have to reset. It was chaotic but really fun.

GG: How long had you lived in New York at that point?

MN: A little over a year and a half.

GG: Was that your first time filming something on the streets of New York? Did it teach you anything about the city?

MN: Yeah, it was my first time. And I was shocked at how different it was from LA. In LA, it’s all about permits and feeling watched. In New York, nobody cares. When we filmed in the subway, cops literally just waved at us. That would never happen in LA. It made me feel like indie film really belongs here. It actually made me glad I’d moved.

GG: I love that.

MN: I’m just grateful I met Kareem when I did. He’s gotten so famous in the past year, but he’s stayed committed—still deeply involved in getting the film out there. It’s funny: our movie is about two people talking, and now his whole career is built on that. But that’s why I wanted to work with him in the first place—he’s such a good conversationalist.

GG: Last question, what did you think of The Naked Gun?

MN: (laughs) Honestly, the funniest part for me wasn’t even the movie. Alex Karpovsky from Girls was sitting near me, and I could see his face the entire time. He didn’t laugh once. I kept waiting, like, What’s the joke that’s finally going to make him laugh? and it never came.

GG: That’s incredible.

MN: The one we saw is good. The original Naked Gun is amazing. I love that kind of slapstick humor. I’m just wary of remakes—I feel fatigued by them—but silliness deserves a comeback.

GG: So what I’m hearing is: no remakes, but maybe a sequel.

MN: Exactly. Sequel yes, remake no.