A STAGE FOR CHANGE: MONICA BARBARO

MONICA BARBARO’S JOAN BAEZ WON HEARTS AND CRACKED OPEN THE ACTRESS’S CAREER. SHE SAT DOWN WITH HER LONGTIME FRIEND, KATIE STRICKER, TO DISCUSS THE IMPORTANCE OF USING HER MOMENTUM FOR GOOD.

By Nicole DeMarco

Most of us only dream of meeting our heroes. We settle for a glimpse of a celebrity slipping into a black SUV on 57th Street, an all-too-scripted back-and-forth at a local book signing, or briefly shaking hands with the innovator, artist, or maker that’s shaped our world and sharpened our vision. Being in the same room as them seems unlikely; even more so, being in the room: The Dolby Theatre on Hollywood’s biggest night, the Oscars. As a young aspiring ballet dancer, Monica Barbaro cycled through the well-worn ritual of checking out Zoe Saldana’s dance musical Center Stage (2000)from her local video store. This year, she was nominated alongside her in the Best Supporting Actress category. “I made a point to congratulate Zoe, because I’m so proud of her,” Monica says days after the ceremony.

Then, of course, there’s Joan Baez, artist, activist, and one of the greatest folk musicians of all time—“a real believer,” Monica says—who the actress so aptly portrayed in one of 2024’s most beloved movies, A Complete Unknown. She and Joan were in touch throughout the filming process, with Monica admitting she often fell asleep, guitar in hand, while teaching herself how to play Joan’s protest songs. They finally met in person at a benefit concert last month in San Francisco, where the musician played “Deportee (Plane Wreck at Los Gatos),” a song about the deaths of 28 migrant farm workers in a plane crash in 1948. Political art often transcends time and space, but it’s needed now more than ever. The emotionally-charged performance struck a chord with Katie Stricker, a doctor offering care to the unhoused on Skid Row, who’s one of Monica’s oldest friends and a fellow Center Stage devotee.

Monica’s career is an ever-expanding constellation of standout projects. She broke out with blockbuster Top Gun: Maverick (2022), and will star in an upcoming adaptation of the Don Winslow novella Crime 101. But A Complete Unknown undoubtedly marks a watershed moment in her career. It’s unearthed a desire she’ll carry with her into future projects, touching the depths of her soul: to seek out authentic forms of storytelling, using her platform, where possible, to shine a light on marginalized folks and the pitfalls of political systems.

For Beyond Noise, she sat down with Katie—heels off, crystal-adorned Dior tucked away—to rehash their night together at the Oscars, the surreal overlap of their careers, and the thrilling, terrifying what now of the future, with the kind of post-event clarity that makes everything seem both obvious and impossibly complicated at once.

KATIE STRICKER: Tell me about the Oscars. How was your evening?

MONICA BARBARO: It was really wild to sit in the front row. There’s an intensity to it. You’re in it with the camera crew. They were like, “Ma’am, your skirt is massive. Can you please tuck it so we can move and do our job?” And you feel it, which is nice. But it’s also intense, because when they have nothing else to film, they’ll just be like, I guess I’ll point this at you. On the off chance someone in that producer’s box cuts to my dumb face, I better be paying attention.

KT: I was so impressed that your dad had a tux ready. It was so special being there with you. It’s going to take me months to come down from that.

MB: I did a few interviews on the red carpet. My publicist was like, That one, that one, that one, now we go. I was out of breath. Then we walked into the auditorium, the room, and [my dad] was like, Whoa. The red carpet was kind of dead at that point because it was wrapping up, but then it was suddenly the most star-studded, the most beautiful—the people, the energy and excitement, and a massive stage.

KT: It’s so funny for me to see him bewildered by something, because growing up, he was this cool, calm, collected neurosurgeon dad. We were rambunctious, getting into shenanigans.

MB: He’s never put pressure on me in any way to get married, have kids, or anything like that. I’m so lucky neither of my parents have, so I have been able to do what I want to do. On our way there, he started scrolling through pictures of my brother’s kids and my agent was like, Your daughter’s going to the Oscars! But he loves me so much.

KT: He’s so proud of you! He is just so unflappable.

MB: Growing up, we would go to doctor’s receptions and I remember understanding that my dad was a very hard-working, accomplished individual. I was inspired by that. Especially knowing he was the first person in his family to go to college. His mom had to work two jobs to help put him through, and he had to fight for scholarships. I got to see his accomplishments be celebrated—there’s a reason he owns a tux.

KT: I want to ask you what it’s been like having our lives intersect, being in really different fields. I love coming home as a primary care doctor who works in the public health sector. It’s refreshing for me to have a friend who is not at all in medicine. We’ve had such a long friendship, too.

MB: It’s been so nice for me. It’s weird to say it’s refreshing, but it feels like it. It’s allowed me so much perspective, hearing about everything that you have gone through. You were—are—an essential worker. You survived residency through COVID. It just gives so much perspective. As actors, we were all like, Oh no, we’re losing work. I’ve had to remind myself several times that what we do is important even though we’re not saving lives—but you have a profession that is actual public service.

KT: I’ve learned a lot from you. You helped me take care of my mental health during COVID, and that was a really dark time. I spent multiple holidays with you when I was isolated from my family. You were really there for me. We’ve learned a lot from each other about creating boundaries professionally, too, for our emotional stability.

MB: We’re doing entirely different things, but when it comes to workplace dynamics and navigating certain hierarchical structures that make us uncomfortable, or also delegation, asking for help—so much of that is just a throughline for professionals, and professional women. But [our work] is just distinctly different. [Laughs]

KT: Yeah, there’s no parallel there. Like, there are some really crazy horrible things that you deal with that I can’t understand.

MB: We’re trying to bridge that gap. We need to use what I have—which is albeit likely temporary—but some attention, the ability to maybe get a film made. Can we do something meaningful that centers on what you’re doing? I feel so lucky to have learned about the things you’ve done, what your community is doing, and how hard you guys work. You’re doing something that people need to know about, that people exist alongside without really having the bandwidth to look at.

KT: In this political climate, and with healthcare in particular, film and TV always look at the sexy stuff—surgeons, emergency departments. There are so many things in the bread and butter of our public health system—primary care, connecting people to care, working with people who need to touch base with counselors, social workers—that are a lot less sexy, hypothetically, but that people have really gone through.

MB: It’s so exciting to try to find the story within something that really matters too. That’s the challenge. Storytelling can very quickly become exploitative. I think that’s an issue with everything you work on, even with A Complete Unknown. We’re not exploiting these folk artists; we want to actually say something about art and make them feel seen, open people’s eyes to this thing that they haven’t looked at, but not do it in a way that completely negates everything they worked so hard for—which is to not be pizzazzy, commercial.

KT: It was so special going to see Joan Baez with you. She sang “Deportee (Plane Wreck at Los Gatos),” and I was taken aback because I work with so many undocumented individuals. It’s so hard to know that many of the things we’re fighting for today are repeating in history. It was cool meeting Joan finally, and seeing how she’s still such an advocate and force of nature in that space.

MB: You never want to make something that feels light or fluffy, when the whole point is to make people aware of an environment and how it actually is. But sometimes, if it’s too dismal, it’s really difficult to stomach. That approachability is interesting to navigate.

At the end of the day, Joan really is a believer, and a very hopeful person, having lived through some devastating moments in history, using the art to do something. She was on top of the world. Her album was at the top of all music charts—pre-Dylan—and she was grappling with her relationship [to fame], feeling like she wanted to do something that was more significant with that platform. Coming from a family where her dad was a scientist and her family values were not entertainment-based, questioning commercialism, and then being launched into this thing where she’s being paid very well to perform—I don’t have the backbone that she does. I think she’s the strongest woman ever. It’s not lost on me that I relate [to her] in this way. How do I use what I have to leverage a story that matters a lot more than, like, what shoes I’m wearing to this event? [Laughs] You know? Like, cool, write an article about it, but can we actually talk about something that matters? And do it in a way that you’ll absorb? There’s a lot of life going on that’s beyond this.

KT: I’ve seen you navigate that beautifully, and you have been really thoughtful of when to engage with social media or media in general. I’m easily excitable—understatement of the year—and I think I would take to fame in a really different way. But you’ve been really intentional about staying grounded, making sure that you are focusing on the light ahead in the face of absolute chaos.

MB: It’s all a balancing act. My parents being pretty unimpressed with celebrity has always helped. Having a bestie who’s working in healthcare has helped. I could be floating because I’m put up in this nice hotel, I’ve put a gown on, people took photos and told me I look pretty. But there’s also real life happening. Not to say that my own experience in this industry is balanced; I’ve also faced so much rejection and pain. But the healthcare issue is present in my mind. The significance of finding that balance is so important.

KT: Was there someone at the Oscars or Vanity Fair that you were like, I want to say something to them?

MB: Oh, I don’t know. It has to be within your bandwidth at the moment, and within your human capacity to express yourself, to talk to that person that you really admire. What I’ve learned over the years is just to trust the universe and understand that those moments happen when they’re supposed to. Especially for me: I am shy, I’m not a networker, [but] I love connecting with people. I made a point to congratulate Zoe [Saldana] because I’m so proud of her, and we have been obsessed with Zoe forever. She’s such a titan. She’s so strong and beautiful. I’m so glad I did that because I don’t know if I’ll have a chance again to tell her that I’m so proud of her and in so much admiration of her.

KT: We grew up watching Center Stage. I remember renting it from Silver Screen, around the corner from your house. Everyone in our ballet class would rent it for as long as possible, so we could watch it every single weekend.

MB: Pre-streaming was a vibe. I really miss Silver Screen and Video Droid. On a Friday night, it was an event. You would go with your parents or your friends, and there was still decision overwhelm, but you would very intentionally choose a movie, take it home, and put it on. Make popcorn and chocolate chip cookies. The kids will have a different version, but I’m sad they don’t have that version.

KT: It feels full circle that you’re in this at this time, that Zoe is having this beautiful trajectory—there’s overlap. Then the other crazy overlap is that Joan Baez’s son was the drummer for our West African dance class at our ballet studio. We were 10 or 12 years old, and if you had looked out on these nerdy, skinny little ballet dancers trying to do West African [dance] to his drumming…

MB: Like, That one’s going to play my mom in a movie. I mean, he was on the Rolling Thunder tour as a kid. He’s probably so over it, but things like that have made me think a lot about when people are like, What would you tell your past self? As painful as certain moments of rejection are, as intense as it all has been, I’m so glad I can’t tell my past self the future. I’m so happy for every mistake and everything that has happened in my life. Uncertainty is such a special place to sit—to not know our own capacity, but to believe in yourself anyway.