‘Paradise’ Creator Dan Fogelman Tributes Julianne Nicholson

On June 5, the IndieWire Honors Spring 2025 ceremony will celebrate the creators and stars responsible for some of the most impressive and engaging work of this TV season. Curated and selected by IndieWire’s editorial team, IndieWire Honors is a celebration of the creators, artisans, and performers behind television well worth toasting. We’re showcasing their work with new interviews leading up to the Los Angeles event.

Ahead, “Paradise” creator Dan Fogelman explains why Julianne Nicholson, this season’s IndieWire Honors Performance Award winner, was so worth the wait (and the white lies) it took to get her “transcendent” work in the series.

It’s summer of 2024. We are shooting Episode 2 of my new [Hulu] series, “Paradise.” While a lot of my mental energy has been devoted to the pilot, I’m equally focused on the second episode… an episode that expands our world and tells the backstory of our complicated “villain” — Samantha Redmond, AKA Sinatra.

I have come to set today — a rarity for me. Because today Julianne Nicholson is doing her big therapy scene — a monologue where she processes the loss of a child and her failed attempts to move forward — and I want to see it live. There are some things you just need to see in person.

Julianne begins her monologue. The directors — knowing what’s about to happen before it happens — have chosen to start on her and shoot the scene in one shot. No editing. Just let her go. And, so, the scene begins.

I am standing in the back room, watching on the rear monitors. Julianne launches in. It is transcendent. And to no one, or maybe everyone, I simply say, “Oh, my God.”

And with that, as I’m inclined to do in many of my screenplays, I FLASHBACK.

It’s a year earlier now. I’ve been an admirer of Julianne’s from a distance for years, and I’ve been obsessed with the idea of her as Sinatra from go. We’ve Zoomed, connected, and agreed to take this journey together. I’m so excited. And then I get a phone call… there’s been a hiccup. Julianne has been filming another project, a project that still has time left to go, and their dates conflict with ours. They conflict in a way that makes shooting with her impossible.

“Dan,” I’m told, “You’re going to have to move on and cast someone else.”

A decade of running TV shows has taught me to roll with the punches. A location falls apart, you change the location. An actor can’t get their head around a speech, you change the words. But having Julianne in my show — in this part — and then losing her? I can’t roll with that.

There’s a multiple week overlap between projects. I would have to push our project multiple weeks to accommodate Julianne’s schedule. At a very late date. It would cost the show, and the studio that employs me, a LOT of money. I worry I’ll never be able to convince anyone to push, not for one actor in an ensemble, no matter how great they are. And so…

I lie. I tell everyone I need more time to prep the show (which I kind of do), and that we are rushing into production before we were ready (also a partial truth). But the real truth: we could shoot now. Just not with Julianne.

And I don’t want to shoot without Julianne.

BACK TO PRESENT

Julianne only needs two takes at the monologue. We will wind up using her first take in the show. It is one of the most extraordinary single pieces of acting I’ve ever witnessed — a broken woman, a mother who has lost a child, grasping at anything she can hold on to as she tries to survive for her remaining child. It’s so raw, and so real… one of those performances where the lines blur between reality and art. You can hear a pin drop on stage. Everyone knows they are witnessing “special.”

I have a five-year-old. We’re entering the “not good to lie” portion of his development. But the white lie I told that allowed Julianne to play Sinatra is one of those few lies I’ll be proud of for the rest of my life. She’s a woman at the very top of her craft, who is kind and generous to boot.

Working with Julianne Nicholson is, indeed, Paradise.