An Ode to the Women Who Make 'Hacks' the Best Place on TV

THE CART

It’s nearing my last day of shooting on Hacks season 4 and I’ve just been called to set. I hop out of my trailer and see Hannah Einbinder stepping out of hers. Rather than wait to be driven to set, Hannah slides onto the golf cart usually piloted by one of our dutiful production assistants. “Hop in, Dan,” she says. I flip on my phone as I’ve been doing a lot lately—feeling nostalgic already and wanting a record of my time on Hacks for posterity. Hannah embraces the impromptu selfie interview as I improvise: “Wow, Hannah, you’re so good on the show… How long have you also been in charge of driving the talent?” She laughs, “I started about 37 seconds ago.” We pretend she’s an Uber driver, chatting the whole way about working as a team on Hacks. “I like to be in community,” Hannah declares. And it hits me. Yes! To be in community. That’s what this work has always been about, at least for me: creating a sense of family. Especially on a show like Hacks, which has managed to Trojan Horse a message about collaboration and inclusion—straight, queer, multi-racial, multi-generational—into this dark, showbiz, Odd Couple comedy. It’s baked into the fabric of the show, on camera and behind it. A beautiful cross-section of artists—anchored by and for so many remarkably inspiring women.

As an audience member, I’ve been a fan of Hacks, no surprise, since the show premiered in 2021. I’ve loved the Deborah (Jean Smart)/Ava (Hannah Einbinder) dynamic—the inter-generational rivalry turned symbiotic mentorship that grew between these two very different kinds of show business ‘hacks.’ It’s an area to which I’m drawn. Having been part of the team behind The Comeback, I was no stranger to the trials and humiliations of a woman navigating her place in the entertainment business in the second chapter of her life. Hacks seemed to pick up where Comeback left off and build on it.

What a joy and honor it was to join the cast, introduced in season 3, playing Rob, the executive producer of what would be Hollywood’s very first female-hosted late night show, Late Night with Deborah Vance. This became the story engine for all of season 4, exploring the tension and power-struggle between Deborah and her showrunner, Ava, as the pressures of being and writing for the first woman in late night weighed on both of them. It was an exciting and hilarious hurdle to navigate for me as the fictional producer. But, believe me, while the gloves come off this season (sometimes at Rob’s expense), there is no real tension or power-struggle between these remarkable actors. Jean and Hannah are friends, partners even, who protect and support one another. I have never worked alongside a partnership as fearless and ruthlessly bold and funny, while still being so vulnerable.

Hollywood has a long legacy of well-documented feuds between women like Bette Davis and Joan Crawford, of course, and the media seems to relish any hint of tension—Taylor Swift and Katy Perry, Sarah Jessica Parker and Kim Cattrall. On runs the list of stories about women who allegedly didn’t feel collaborative with their female partners. Not the case on Hacks. By the time I joined the show, a culture of kindness, respect, and support permeated throughout.

To some degree, this culture begins at the hands of the series’ creators. And in the case of Jen Statsky, Paul Downs, and Lucia Aniello, there is a very real friendship (in the case of Paul and Lucia, a marriage). Respect and kindness and consideration, therefore, were part of the foundation on which they built this fictional playground. Beyond the creators, the most important role in setting the culture of a show is number one on the call sheet: Jean Smart. Rarely have I worked with someone as collaborative, grounded, self-deprecating, empathic, inclusive, and funny! It’s in that time I spent with Jean, Hannah, and other castmates off-camera that left the most lasting impression. And you know where it happens—this sense of family and community that all of us broken enough to choose show business in the first place seem to be chasing? It happens at The Chairs.

THE CHAIRS

When you’re an actor, in between scenes, you’re brought by a crew member to “The Chairs.” On Hacks, like most shows, this is an area where cast members will snack, knit, read, scroll Instagram, and, most times, tell each other stories. The majority of my scenes took place on Stage One at Universal Studios, and The Chairs were kept behind a closed door, in a small suite of dressing rooms. Jean and Hannah were in one room, the other cast, just outside their open door. Sound stages are often cold, so there were space heaters and hand-warmers and heated blankets strewn around our little suite. Jean and Hannah would often call out, “Come in here and get warm!” They meant it in more ways than one.

It didn’t take long before we were all sharing stories from home. Jean and I clicked right away, sharing a love for our rescue dogs and each with a 17-year-old son. “You’re a good dad,” she’d say, assuaging my fear over my boy’s obsession with Call of Duty, energy drinks, or unusually long showers. There was also our mutual friendship with the late Linda Lavin, with whom I’d been working on Mid-Century Modern. And Jean and I had a connection from the documentary series Who Do You Think You Are? which I produced with Lisa Kudrow for more than a decade. We had the honor, seasons back, of taking Jean on her genealogical journey. On it, Jean discovered she is descended from Dorcas Hoar, a woman born in colonial Massachusetts in 1635 who was later accused of being a witch! Jean and I talked endlessly about the impact this had on her life and work and how she managed to weave some of Dorcas into Deborah Vance, who claims to have “Wiccan roots.”

Over the course of the season, I was in awe of Jean’s ability to navigate her work and personal life. At The Chairs, we’d often return calls from our kids—or their schools—with one fire to put out or another. We’d open up to each other about our stresses and fears, and reassure one another about staying the course as strong, working, supportive parents. Jean is exactly who she is no matter who she’s with. Like a great equalizer, she throws herself fully into her work—stopping at nothing to perfect a moment, a joke, a laugh—and her parenting, relationships and friendships, all with a sense of balance and gratitude that’s contagious. 

THE CRAFTY

Now, a bulk of my bigger scenes this season were with Hannah. She and I bonded as I sifted through gluten-free options at the Crafty table and she introduced me to the wonderful world of cauliflower chips. Hannah, a social activist and environmentalist, is the very definition of someone who walks the walk. I’ll never forget how, after the L.A. fires, Hannah pulled up to set in her Prius, opened the trunk to reveal hundreds of N-1 face masks she’d driven all over town to buy for every member of the cast and crew to protect against harmful air. Hannah is an inspiration to me, and everyone, in her dedication to fighting for our rights and our planet.  She’s also only a few years older than my daughter, so I immediately felt an unspoken connection.

Luckily, in the first episode of the season, we shared a scene where I drop a pair of panties on her desk asking, “Are these yours?” It was hard to keep a straight face. Especially when the ad libs started flowing. Ava makes the assumption that Rob is gay. Rob prefers not to bring his personal life into the workplace. Hannah ad libs: “There’s a picture of you marrying a man in your office” to which I improvised back “You don’t know who that man is!” The banter wound up in the episode. (Though Hannah expounding on the details of the photo—us on the beach in Hawaii, which cracked us all up—didn’t quite make the final cut). We’d look at one another and, coming from comedy and improv backgrounds, knew we could trust each other. She’d throw the ball and I’d throw it back. And I knew she’d be an inspiring scene partner for the rest of the season.

Back at The Chairs, Hannah would open up about her life and me about mine. She, still in her 20s, would advise me about my 20-year-old daughter. “I can’t seem to get her out of bed,” I’d complain. Hannah reminded me it was my kid’s job to get herself out of bed, encouraging me to listen to what her goals and dreams were rather than focusing on what I, as a parent, thought she should do. It prompted me to give my daughter an “I want” journal to write anything and everything she could imagine for herself, from a future job to her ideal meal that night. Hannah seemed to perfectly straddle both kid and parent perspectives with so much wisdom and insight. “If that doesn’t work, shut off her phone!” We’d laugh. It didn’t take long for Hannah to become my most trusted and valued ally. It was a metaphor for our relationship, then, that Hannah drove me to set in that golf cart, expressing her dedication to being “in community.”

Throughout the season, actor after actor with whom I’d get to share downtime would chat with me at The Crafty or sit by me in The Chairs, building a greater feeling of cast unity. Favorite documentaries with Helen Hunt, also a subject of Who Do You Think You Are? We enjoyed our long tangents about her connection to the formation of the Women’s Temperance Movement. Then there were stories shared with Julianne Nicholson about our mutual parenting fails and her time on “Mare of Easttown” with Jean. And, among some of my favorite times, learning from Michaela Watkins about her life in Ojai and new crochet stitches. Speaking of stitches, Michaela’s ad libs as her disheveled character, Stacy from HR, were legendary. She’d accentuate a serious moment with a sip from her enormous water bottle, then pretend to cough up a lung when that sip went down the “wrong pipe.” “CUT!” We’d have to go again. 

Hacks has been lauded, feted, and awarded (Emmys, Golden Globes, Critics’ Choice, GLAAD Media, among countless others). It’s on every Best list and continues to grow its fan base. I assumed I would have a positive experience on the show because of its success. But having spent a good part of the last year working on it and sharing so much laughter and honesty with the creators and my castmates, I’m convinced the success of the show hasn’t led to this culture of family and community but, on the contrary, is a result of it.

Hannah parks the golf cart in front of Stage One, which features a giant “Late Night with Deborah Vance” logo painted on the entrance. “We’re here!” I thank my driver for the ride and she thanks me for my business. And then, as if we’d planned it, and with an almost poetic double meaning, we both look at each other and yell out in perfect unison: “Five Stars!” 

Dan Bucatinsky is an Emmy-award winning actor, writer, and producer. His film acting credits include Air and The Post and he has appeared on TV shows like Curb Your Enthusiasm, Will & Grace, and Friends, as well as The Comeback, where he was also a producer. You may recognize him from perhaps his most notable turn on Scandal thanks to his character's memorable and grisly death. He is currently writing on Hulu’s new project Mid Century Modern, and previously worked as a writer on Grey's Anatomy.