Edy Modica on Getting Famous, Nyack, Cruises, Drama Club, and Millennial Ambition

This is a free post from Larry Fitzmaurice's Last Donut of the Night newsletter. Paid subscribers get one or two email-only Baker's Dozens every week featuring music I've been listening to and some critical observations around it. Subscriptions currently run $3/month or $30/year, hit one of those little pink buttons on the right side of your screen to tap in, you won't regret it.

Here's what's going down today: I first saw Edy Modica do standup during the Dan Licata and Joe Pera-hosted Dan and Joe DVD Show at the Bell House a couple of years ago—I want to say it was right before she appeared on Prime Video's hit series Jury Duty? It was definitely before she appeared in the hilarious Rap World, which was one of my favorite movies of 2024 (you may remember that I talked to Jack Bensinger and Eric Rahill for that one). A few weeks ago, she dropped her first full-length special, I'm Just like You (And It Sucks), and it's absolutely hilarious. I got in touch with Edy after watching it, and we had an excellent time chatting about her career, her comedic approach, and much more. Check it out:

Your special literally opens with you saying the title of the special. You say, "Two years ago, I got a little famous," and then you flip it right back around immediately. Walk me through the last couple of years for you—because you were on Jury Duty, which did end up being a little cultural moment.
I mean, it wasn't how I expected it to be, is what I'll say. When Jury Duty came out, I was working at Decades Pizza. Have you been there?

Yeah.
It's very good. But I was working there, and I started getting recognized. I had no idea that it was going to be such a big thing. It definitely put me on the map more, and it definitely changed my life, which is awesome. But when it came out, there was an actors' strike happening, so you weren't allowed to like take any meetings with anyone, and that kind of screwed us a little—which, I mean, it was for good, but it was hard. They also changed the rules for getting paid from streaming stuff, so we missed that too. I'm still grappling with how big of a deal that show was, because people still come over to me. It seems like it was huge, but it's funny, because I had to work in restaurants for another three years.

Are you still working in restaurants now?
I'm not. I got fired from the last restaurant I was working at because I was taking too much time off to act. So I've just been getting by on that now.

How has that been?
It's amazing, and also so ridiculous. My life is just so up and down. But it's pretty cool.

Let's talk more about that strange situation with having success and being caught in career limbo regardless. It does seem like that happens to a lot of people in the entertainment field these days. Things start to take off, and then it's like, "Well, wait a minute, there's eight or nine strange things that are precluding you from moving forward even more."
Right now, there's this constant search for the next new person who they're going to blast at you for a month—and then that person disappears indefinitely. They're constantly looking for new people. If you're willing to sell items or do commercials, that's how you get to the next level. I always say that I don't want to be like an actress who's selling dresses. There's this road you can take where, all of a sudden, you're modeling for Balenciaga. That's your new thing—you're no longer even making things. People get plucked to do that, but nobody's knocking down my door to do that, and I don't want to do that.

I don't know. It just seems like a crazy landscape right now. You have to be making content, constantly in people's faces. I'm down for like a slower ride where I can do whatever I want—and I feel that it's possible, and I'm doing it. I feel happy that I am not giving in.

That happens a lot in the music industry too. there's this push from the people who hold the money where they're like, "You have to be on all the time, constantly." I feel like people in general are always gravitating towards people who are doing things more deliberately. I don't think I've seen a single person who's done the whole full court press thing and not have some moment where they're just exhausting their audience.
Well, that's the thing. Even Charli XCX—I loved Brat when it came out, and now I'm repulsed by her. I'm like, "Shut the fuck up and stop posting like you're a normal person. You're not." You chose to not be, so you don't get to do that anymore. Even with posting about my special, I was working with a PR company, and they sent like a plan like, "This day we're going to post this clip, and the next day you're going to post a front-facing video." I left out a few of the days because I could feel that I was being annoying, and I never want to be that.

That's extremely real. I gotta give you credit, too. I feel like I've been going crazy in the last year and a half, because I'm somebody who really has liked Charli XCX's work across the last 15 years, and I'm so exhausted right now by how much she's been out there. I've talked to so many people who are like, "What are you talking about? This is fun." And I'm like, You're not tired of this right now?"
Being someone who's in that world, I can't tell where it blends into jealousy and actual repulsion. People are saying, "Oh my God, that look." But I'm like, "She has so many." Maybe if she chills out, there'd be room for more people.

People get mad when I say this, but the Brat phenomenon very much felt like Taylor Swift for people who think they're like too cool for Taylor Swift.
Yes! Everybody does want to be into that type of thing—they just don't want it to be so cringe, which, I get. But at the same time, there's plenty of stuff out there as well.

You grew up in Nyack. I grew up in northern New Jersey, and the only thing I was familiar with in Nyack was the huge mall that had the roller coaster. Tell me about growing up in Nyack.
It's the best place ever. It's on the water, and it's very diverse. My boyfriend and I went to high school together, and he's from the fancier part and I'm not—but we lived five blocks away from each other, so I like that, within five blocks, it really changes a lot. There's a lot of different types of people there. I had an amazing experience. I was queen of the drama club. That ruined my life, and that's why I'm here doing this now.

What was your first big role in drama club?
Okay, that's the question I was waiting for. This is what ruined me specifically: My high school got chosen to do Phantom of the Opera, and I was Christine. I was, like, a local celebrity at that point. I was like, "Oh, I'm a star. Like, I have to do this.

I'd seen your standup before the special, and one thing I've noticed is that you're very good at telling stories in an organic way. It feels like you're hanging out with somebody and they're just telling you a bunch of stuff that's happened to them, and as somebody who likes to hear people talk, that's very interesting to me. Talk to me about developing that skill—because, for some people, it's something they have to work on, especially when it comes to performing.
I think I was born this way. A lot of the stuff that makes it into my comedy, if I'm hanging out with my friends and I tell a story, I can tell, "Wait, this is good. I could tell this to a larger audience." I love talking, telling stories, and finding the best way to tell them.

I love telling people stories too, but I sometimes find myself in situations where I'm like, "Okay, they're not listening to me anymore," and I have to speed things up. Is that something you've had to deal with?
To be honest, I feel like I have a very good sense of how to tell it right. My boyfriend, sometimes he loses the thread, and it makes me anxious. I can see the exact way to tell it, and I'm like, "You're blowing it, man."

Your parents were in the audience during this special, and the camera cuts to them multiple times. Talk to me about working the material on them.
I'm an only child, so my parents are already obsessed with me. I'm their favorite thing, and they've been seeing me perform. I used to get naked all the time on stage, because I wanted to do the craziest thing I could do—and they've been there for that, so this was a little tamer for them. They've seen this show five times before. I'm being honest, and everything is true, so they can't really say anything to me, and they're the ones who know if I wasn't telling the truth.

It's always a risk being on stage in general. What are some moments where you tried something out and it just didn't work?
My friend was making a movie, and there was a standup bit in it. He wanted me to do a specific thing where I'd show my butt, and it would be like my butt was doing standup. It hurts me to say that out loud. But he wanted me to do that bit, and I wasn't doing that anymore. He didn't tell me that it was a huge show at Rubalad, and I didn't know anyone else on the show. There were 200 people there—I just thought it was going to be a small show. I was like, "I don't even want to do this. I was fighting for my life up there, but I had to do the whole thing. So that sucked.

I also opened for Eric Andre. Sarah Sherman gave him my number and he asked me to open for him at the University of Southern Florida. I really thought it was going to be amazing. He kept being like, "It's going to suck, these shows suck," but I was like, "I got this. It's going to be great." They were there to see Eric Andre. They weren't there to see me, and they didn't know who I was. It was 1,800 people—the most people I've ever been in front of—and they were all 18-and-19-year-olds. They were talking the whole time. They were like, "Show us your tits." I was saying out loud, "I don't know what to do." I shut down. They were messaging me after, "You should fucking never do comedy again. You fucking suck." It was crazy. I got off stage and people were like, "Great job," just to be nice—and Eric was the only person who was like, "That was rough." And I was like, "Thank you."

I saw Connor O'Malley open for the Lonely Island at South Street Seaport in 2019, and he bombed in front of 3,500 people. But I thought it was the funniest thing I'd ever seen.
It's rough when you play to a larger audience and you just can't get there. It's tough.

There's a bit in this special about going on a cruise as a teenager. I've been on a cruise before, and I recognized almost every aspect of what you were talking about. Knowing what we know now about the various aspects of the cruise industry, would you ever go on another cruise again at this point?
Yes.

Really? Wow, okay, damn.
I feel like a cruise with a group of friends could be awesome—and they do cruise to Alaska. So with friends, it could be good, but friends rarely go on a cruise. You go with your parents, and you're trapped for a week and a half.

One thing that I identified with very deeply in this special was your bit about having "open face." My wife actually said to me while we were watching it, "You have a bit more in common with her than you think"—and it does happen to me all the time as well. What's some of the wildest things that strangers have just told you straight up to your face that you didn't talk about in the special?
There's a grocery store down the street from me, and this woman was hanging out there last week. My friends do a show in the grocery store—it's very funny and crazy—and this woman was like, "I heard there's a show, but I'm embarrassed to go." This is a 70-year-old woman. I was like,"You should come. I'll sit with you." Then she was like, "Can you walk me home?" And I'm like, "Yeah, I'll walk you home after." Then we're hanging out, and after the show, she's chain-smoking cigarettes and she doesn't want to leave. She was like, "I don't want to be alone," and she started playing disco on her phone. We were dancing with her all night, but then it was like, "It's time to go. It's 10:30." She's like, "One more song, one more song," and she lights another cigarette. Then I walk her home, and she's like, "Will you come upstairs?" So I go upstairs with her. Now, she's texting. She called me yesterday three times. She's like, "What's up, girl?" She keeps writing "LMAO," which I wasn't expecting. I constantly have people that I'm dodging. She wanted my number because we took a picture together, so I was like, "I'll send you the picture."

I've followed you on Instagram for a minute now. We talked about social media before, and you have a very specific IG aesthetic. You don't overdo it, and it works for you really well. I'd love to hear you define your posting aesthetic. Posting is an art. You have to know how to do it, and it has to feel authentic.
I genuinely enjoy posting, and I like doing it in the moment. That's the best stuff, and then it makes other people feel like they can be freer on there. I like it to be real. I like to look like shit or be on my couch, as casual as possible—and then when you see me in person, you're like, "Oh, she's pretty." My boyfriend has told me, before we reconnected in person, "I really did not know what you looked like." And I like that, because I don't want it to be about that. That stuff torments me so much. I want it to be a place where like you feel good about yourself.

How long have you been with your boyfriend for?
A little over two and a half years.

Given that you guys had known each other for so long already, what do you think you've learned about yourself in terms of being in this relationship?
Oh my god—that I have anger problems, and I need to figure them out.

I mean, that's relationships. It's work!
I've learned so much. It's a journey, and sometimes it's really just not in your control.

Do you guys live together?
Yeah.

What's the roommate dynamic? Have you had roommates previously?
I've lived with so many people. This is the first time I've lived in my own place with my partner, and it's amazing. But yesterday, he wanted the house to himself, and he was like, "You have to go to a friend's house." So I did.

My wife and I have lived together since I graduated college in 2009. Doing that through your twenties is a real baptism-by-fire in terms of figuring out who each other is. It's tough, but you get there.
How long have you guys been together?

We've been together for 18 years, married for eight.
Oh my God. That's beautiful.

Somebody pointed out on Twitter recently that you have a poster for The Dirties on your wall.
It's my boyfriend's favorite movie and he showed it to me, so I got him that poster for our anniversary last year. It's just so fucking cool and badass. They filmed in a bunch of different schools until they got kicked out. So many people are like, "How do you make things?" It's so hard, but they made it. If you want to do it, you can do it, and I really believe that.

Last winter, you posted about Louis C.K. headlining the New York Comedy Festival. I was really impressed that you posted about that, because comedians aren't necessarily a group of people who generally will speak about and express principles. Speaking out about anything in the world of comedy takes some gumption, so to speak. Given all of that, talk to me about your experience with the culture around comedy at large.
Comedians, because they're like telling the truth, a lot of times—especially in political comedy—it's like, "Just run already if that's what you want to do." That really pissed me off with Louis C.K. Every few months, I get really angry about that. I've been doing comedy for so long, and through the Me Too movement, and there's been so many canceled people along the way. I don't necessarily even believe in canceling people—I don't think that it's the right way to handle things always—but I wish we could talk about things more, or that people would talk directly with each other, instead of taking people down publicly.

It also feels very divided. There's now a group of people who can do and say whatever they want, and they're over there—and then there's people who are "so woke" over here. I feel that way with fame too. It's all a product of a similar thing. There's so many people now, and there's not many big, overarching celebrities anymore. It's just niche people who you're into.

You had a bit of a viral moment recently as part of the Joebox clip for Caleb Pitts' "Untitled." It's one of the funniest things I've watched this year.
It was amazing—the most amazing gift in the world. Getting to do Joebox, and it existing—it's just so perfect. I hope Joe is so successful, but I hope no one ever tries to capitalize on it, because that's why it's so special. It's just friends, and we're not making any money, and we're yelling at him about buying us coffees.

You said something funny there: "I hope that nobody tries to capitalize off of this." You fall in the millennial category, right?
[Edy does finger mustache]

Nice, That's good. I feel like the millennial experience throughout the 2010s, was like, "Okay, I can be successful. I can get some money from a streamer. I can have a show. I can write on a show. I can do all this stuff." Then, around 2017 or 2018, it was like, "Alright, we're closing the gates on this, and nobody else is coming through for pretty much the rest of your life." That led to a sort of anti-aspirational mentality that hangs around today—which I think has been good for art, if not for money. I'm curious to hear you talk about if that's something that you've felt, as a creative person: The notion of aspiration then versus now, what the pitfalls are, and when you're actually achieving happiness.
I feel like I've resigned to being like, "This is my life. This is what I'm choosing to do, and I'm going to do it forever." And when I get to do it, I'm so happy. Like, it really is the best thing ever. I have friends from high school who all work in offices or don't even understand this kind of lifestyle, and I'm blessed that this is what I'm doing. I'm chasing happiness, and even if I'm not making things for a while, I know I always will for the rest of time. The people who are happiest in this are the ones who view it that way.

Has there ever been anything you've been offered where you're like, "Absolutely not, I'm not doing this"?
There was this one, a year after October 7th happened.

That's always a good start to a story.
It was a Birthright comedy about this girl who goes on Birthright and befriends her soldier friend. It was a comedy, but supporting Israel, and it was called Untitled Birthright Comedy. I was like, "Get the fuck out of here!"

Have you seen any movies lately?
I just saw Obsession last night.

What'd you think?
I loved it.

Yeah, it's good.
That girl is so amazing. Even with what we're talking about—never seen her in my life, never heard of her—I look her up on Instagram, she has two million followers. And she's so beautiful in the movie, but I was like, "Oh, she's a movie star." I also saw this movie at Tribeca by my friend Doron Max Hagay, She Keeps Me Young. It's amazing. It's literally not what you expect, it's a horror movie.