When you meet Sean Penn at his Malibu home, you get the man in his element. Barefoot, with black paint speckled across his hands from an afternoon spent in his carpentry woodshop, the actor settled into his living area with a pack of American Spirit cigarettes and his German shepherd standing guard nearby. There is a raw, grounded quality to the setting, and his decision to go without shoes mirrors his conversational style: stripped of padding and entirely unbuffered. It is a setting that reflects his current philosophy: “I seek to build the frame of the house and have the house really surprise me…if a script is great, you know, that’s a house with music playing.”
Speaking with Newsweek Editor-in-Chief Jennifer H. Cunningham at his home, the two-time Oscar-winner is candid about the “music” of his latest Academy Award-nominated role in One Battle After Another, a project that left him laughing by page 10 of the script. In the Paul Thomas Anderson film, Penn stars as Col. Steven J. Lockjaw, a bigoted officer obsessed with hunting down a Black extremist. After being outmaneuvered once, Lockjaw will stop at nothing to claim his revenge.
But the “visceral reaction” he felt for the script quickly pivots to the “real-world irony” of our current political climate. From the “pathetic, hateful” rise of extremist groups in America to the “deviant, cowardly” betrayal of Ukraine, Penn pulls no punches. Such blunt advocacy is the hallmark of a career defined by merging stardom with a relentless pursuit of accountability, whether it be regarding Iraq, Haiti, Hurricane Katrina or the government’s response to the COVID-19 pandemic. He reflects on the “hell” of the awards circuit—viewing his past Oscar wins, for Milk and Mystic River, not as a triumph, but as a “relief” for those who invested in him—and offers a blunt postmortem on the 2024 election as well as the “thought police” and the legacy of racism he believes drove voters toward President Donald Trump.
Whether he’s discussing the creative potential of AI or his complicated history with world leaders like Hugo Chávez or Nicolás Maduro of Venezuela or Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky—to whom he gifted one of his two Oscars—Penn remains a man who prefers “home improvement” over the “complaint culture” of the film industry. As he prepares to return to the director’s chair, Penn remains grounded in the work, even as he keeps a wary eye on the “anguish in the world.”
This transcript was edited for space and clarity.
Newsweek_ Your character, Col. Lockjaw, is terrifying. What drew you to such a frightening role?
Sean Penn_ Paul [Thomas Anderson, director] and I talked about working together a lot over the years. Only once, as far as I know anyway, in a particular way about a movie that he made—that was Punch-Drunk Love. I was frothing to do the Adam Sandler part. He’d already—he may even have written it for Adam—he certainly cast Adam, who of course was fantastic in it. He took it in such a different direction than the one I had in my mind.
In that case, it didn’t occur to me that I knew exactly what Paul’s movie was gonna be, or felt the tone overall. So that makes sense, but he had wanted me to do a different part in it. That’s why I’d read it, and I couldn’t get over how hungry I was to do that part.
This [One Battle After Another] was different. I started laughing on page 10, maybe earlier, and did not stop—including in the things that aren’t funny. It’s just the idea that he was going there in all the rhythms of it, in all of the emotions of it, but also in the real-world irony of it and all of that. If I don’t sort of feel the “music” of a character when I’m reading it, it’s going to be a long walk that may not complete itself getting there.
Your physicality in the role is so compelling. How did you convey that level of realism through your body?
What’s mostly true is that’s what I thought—like all of the stuff of the character, whether it was literally indicated or not. It was here in the music he wrote, and almost all of it, right away as I was reading it, I sort of felt it in my body. And that’s part of what was making me laugh.
So, in reading it, you were almost having a visceral reaction?
Yeah, absolutely.
Was there a specific scene that lingered with you?
Well, chasing Chase Infiniti [who plays Willa] around the desert. That girl, she’s a magic trick in a lot of ways. I didn’t have any sullen days following the days of work, let me put it that way. I did have a couple where I was a little sore, or you can get fidgety when you’re in a car too long.
That’s an evolving thing. The way I’ve described it before is: The girl I fell in love with was the big screen, in the room in the dark with strangers. That’s another conversation about people leaving their little screens at home and connecting with other people. I was, and still would have been, in the “complaint culture” that would say most movies suck—mostly American movies, not because I want to beat up on them, but it’s where I live. I spend a lot more time now getting excited enough to talk about things that are as good as any other time in filmmaking.
What’s mostly true is that’s what I thought—like all of the stuff of the character, whether it was literally indicated or not. It was here in the music he wrote, and almost all of it, right away as I was reading it, I sort of felt it in my body. And that’s part of what was making me laugh.
I just saw as good a movie as I’ve ever seen—Kristen Stewart’s movie [The Chronology of Water]. She is a poet. It’s incredible. I knew her when she was 16 or 17. I didn’t get to know her, I just knew there was a lot of depth, and she was extremely shy. A lot of what she communicated with this film came from living all the life she’s had since, but it was also part of who she was. You see things like Normal People, the TV series, or what Stephen Graham just did with Adolescence—you can’t tell me these things aren’t touching Eugene O’Neill, or whatever. Greatness. That’s exciting.
How do you navigate the shifts in the industry—streaming and studio culture—while staying true to your own instincts?
My hope is that particularly younger people will go to the theater more for more thoughtful movies, because it resonates differently [when] experienced with not only the people in that room. You knew that there were going to be things about this movie that were going to be part of all the other people that are living in your lifetime’s conversations, because they were seeing the same thing in Miami while we’re seeing it in California or Missouri. That’s the interactive thing that most movies don’t have.
How do you define success now? Awards, critical response or something else?
Critical respect is a great thing when you’re proud of the work you’ve done. It should never happen in person. The message should go, “Hey Sean, never ever respond to this: ‘You did a good job.’” That’s bliss. The “award world” is for me…hell. I’d rather not be nominated than be pressured to have to participate. My dear friend Julia Roberts says—and I smile and nod—“anyone who says they don’t want to win the Academy Award is lying.” It’s not true. It’s not about not wanting to win; it’s all that goes with it and all the smiling involved and nodding. It’s just a social anxiety thing to me; it’s not comfortable. When I won [for Mystic River], I had never gone to the Academy Awards when I’d been nominated [before]. I went because I was embarrassed that Clint Eastwood had had to accept my Golden Globe [for Mystic River], and he’d been great to me. I went and I happened to win, and the only feeling I could ever have winning is relief. Relief because you see how much investment people you like and have been supportive of you and who paid you are putting into the hope that that happens. You’re just relieved they didn’t waste their time. I probably would have been a lot more excited watching from my couch.
The film shows political extremes. Some critics view it as pro-left; how do you see the balance?
If you’re watching this film and you think there’s something “pro” about shooting an innocent man doing his job and killing him in a bank, the problem’s with you. If they think there’s any effort to sympathize with their fundamentalism, I think it’s wiped out in that scene. If it’s not, I don’t understand—I mean, I do think I understand, because people are looking for anything, but I don’t think there’s any intellectual truth to it.
Your character wants to join an overtly racist group. Do you fear these attitudes are still widespread in America?
Oh, absolutely. I know them. I mean, I know people, in MAGA.
And not only people of color, you know what I mean, but anyone ethnic-looking, they need to make them “less than” for themselves to feel any identity. It’s a pathetic, hateful thing. Self-hating at the core. I don’t think human beings are capable of hating outside themselves, really. It’s just a trigger of self-loathing.
The protest scenes feel very contemporary. Did you expect the film’s dystopian view to come to life so quickly?
Yeah, and again not because it’s funny, but because it’s sort of like operating-room humor. That’s part of why I was laughing when I was reading it. I say, the idea that we just watched [in Minneapolis] two people—certainly the second one, because I can’t get the angle [in the first one] to feel if there was a policeman off-camera, I don’t know the details on that, if someone actually felt afraid of that vehicle—I don’t think I would have, and I didn’t sense in any way that she [Renee Good] was going to ram anybody. The other [Alex Pretti] was flat-out murder.
So, reading the script, and it’s kind of foretelling that. I guess I was laughing because it was a release of what I really felt I was sure of. And I think it’s going to get worse.
Are you concerned about media consolidation?
Whether it’s a president or a conglomerate, we get the president and the conglomerate we deserve. I don’t care if somebody’s white, Black or if you have money—we all have more to give. A lot of people need more than they’re being given, that’s for sure.
But by the last election, ’24—I hadn’t had an unhappy moment in probably three years. Frustrated moments, sure, but nothing depression or anything like that. Nothing saddening in that way. I keep an eye on anguish in the world, of course, but my grief isn’t going to help them.
On election night, I did a Zoom with Congressman [Eric] Swalwell [of California] in the morning, and then I shut off my phone. I told my daughter, “I don’t want to know about anything,” and I was in my woodshop all day. Then I watched Walter Salles’ movie, I’m Still Here, which had a scene where all the hardships this family’s going through; somebody comes down to do a story on them, and [they are] told to smile for a picture. And they do. I thought, “Well, it’s not the challenge we wanted, but it’s the challenge that we’ve got.” You can make things better by making things better.
So, I don’t struggle when I worry about distribution or content [slants]. I worry, but I don’t struggle with that worry. It’s when I think about how it’s going to affect how we get our news and what news and which slant we’re going to get it. But there are not enough of us standing there on the spot in Minneapolis. Ain’t no f****** way. So here we are. But even now, I notice that people are not allowed to make reasonable comparisons to things historically, because everybody goes crazy when you say, “These people are just like that,” right? Whatever that is. And so, the better thing is to say, “Well, OK, if that’s not going to be a productive tool, what is?”
Do you see AI as a creative enabler or a threat?
I’m of two minds. I was preparing a movie I wrote, and I had a visual reference I couldn’t find anywhere to share with my team. My neighbor showed me an Instagram post that was exactly what I was talking about. The woman [in the post] looked like the woman in my scene. I spoke to my casting director and said, “Will you find this woman? Maybe we should have her read for it.” It took her two days—the woman was an AI. It occurred to me—nothing else in the movie, nobody else—but I might just cast that AI in that part. That would be creatively interesting to me. We can speculate the negative, but we can be humble enough to say we don’t f****** know if this is gonna be the greatest thing of all time creatively. We have too much expert culture. There’s no expert on tomorrow anymore. It’s a folly to think otherwise.
Creative thinking is in a great place now; its place to be filled is great. Right now, we are abandoning Europe to Hitler—just abandoning it cowardly. We are shame. Our fathers and grandfathers are rolling over in their graves. Republicans and Democrats alike. This betrayal of Ukraine is deviant, cowardly and shortsighted.
Is there a realistic path to peace in Ukraine?
That’s really hard. If my family lives in New York [City] and New York is invaded, am I going to settle this war by giving them New York? The only short-term end of this war would be [Vladimir] Putin backing out, and that could have happened a hundred times by now. A lot of people in the media were initially afraid of a nuclear war. You got to be concerned about nuclear war every day, but what country are we when we are just going to be a punk to something we not only were warned about, but we f****** invented it? Like, “Oh, we’ll drop it on the Japanese, but as soon as it might come our way, we will hide and let whoever has to die, die.” It doesn’t make you proud. But I still believe, in the end, the one who will most prevail will be Ukraine.
What was the motivation behind giving one of your Oscars to Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky?
He was a rock star at that moment. And he’s an actor, and he’s a filmmaker. He offered to talk on the Academy Awards about the importance of storytelling and to thank the world, and the United States in particular, for the support he’d got up till that point. I was reaching out to the Academy to say he’ll do it taped or live. If he had been allowed to do that, the Will Smith thing [slapping Chris Rock] wouldn’t have happened. But they [wouldn’t agree]—maybe thinking about how important the Russian market is. I was so angry. I said to him on the phone, “I just want to melt those f****** things down and make rounds out of them and send them to you.” And then I brought it over on a trip. But basically he refused it, so I said, “I’ll loan it to you till you win this war.” So he has one of them.
You were friends with former President of Venezuela Hugo Chávez. Given that former Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro is now facing trial in New York, what are your thoughts?
By the time I knew Hugo Chávez, this was a country with a lot of problems, but about 87 percent of the population had national identity—before Chávez, 81 percent did not. I stand by my observation that it was still gaining more than it was losing until the referendum, which I opposed. But I liked him, and I knew the U.S. government had a long history of demonizing people.
I knew Nicolás Maduro, pretty well. He was a functionary of the Chávez policy. The last time I was in Venezuela was at the memorial for Chávez, and it was going really bad. At first, I wrote it off to the problem of populism, but certainly, he was a “bad manager,” to be polite. I happen to be somebody who believes those were criminal activities, and evidence should be shown. I think this has much more to do with Chinese and Russian influence in South America than anything else. From what I believe, he deserves to be in prison.
Why do you think Trump won in 2024?
I’m going to reference the actor Stephen Fry. In a debate about politically correct speech, he talked about this feeling of nature self-censoring itself proactively by the “thought police.” I was much more aligned with more conservative people on this. I used to say, “Pretty soon, only Danish princes can play Hamlet.” There have been periods in the last year where I’ve called friends and said, “I think you should not speak up right now because it’s like kung fu—they’re hanging themselves.” Hard-working people who felt betrayed and went with this guy are coming to their senses; get out of the way for a minute. I’m sure I’ll have moments like that letter [to George W. Bush in 2002, criticizing the approach to the Iraq War] again, and I hope I choose them well. But I can’t even count on how relevant I’ll be tomorrow, you know?
What’s next for you?
I wrote this [new] thing, and I’m directing. It’s bad luck for me to talk about, but some might find it to be a “letter.” And then a lot of carpentry. Black paint on my hand today—it’s my therapy. Mostly what I’ll call “home improvement.” Efforts! I don’t want to accuse myself of talent. A lot of efforts.
