You Know Chris Diamantopoulos from Everywhere

It’s nearly impossible to have lived a life untouched by a Chris Diamantopoulos performance. The Toronto-born star has been active in the industry for decades, and across all genres. He’s played the male lead in Waitress on Broadway, opposite composer Sara Bareilles. He’s shown up in dramas like The Boys in the Boat and Daisy Jones & The Six. You’ve heard him in animated shows for kids (Hamster & Gretel), adults (Harley Quinn) and everyone in between (Animaniacs). But if you’re a comedy fan, you’re basically guaranteed to have watched him in his most iconic roles: obnoxious billionaire Russ “Tres Comas” Hanneman in Silicon Valley and Brian, the documentary crew member/possible obstacle to Jim and Pam’s marriage in the final season of The Office. (Don’t yell at him about it if you see him on the street: he might be with any or all of the four children he has with his wife, Ugly Betty alumna Becki Newton.)

Today, Diamantopoulos launches his latest series: Prime Video’s The Sticky. Inspired by a true crime story of the early aughts — but, as the start of each episode reminds us, explicitly NOT an adaptation of it — it revolves around a daring heist of a strategic maple syrup reserve in Quebec by disgruntled warehouse security guard Remy (Guillaume Cyr), desperate farmer Ruth (Margo Martindale) and overlooked crime family functionary Mike (Diamantopoulos). It’s not much of a stretch to say that what seems like a perfect crime soon oozes into a sloppy mess.

Diamantopoulos and I got on the phone just before Thanksgiving to discuss what it’s like to be a Canadian in possibly the most Canadian crime dramedy ever; what he learned from playing Moe in the Farrellys’ take on The Three Stooges; and how voicing our era’s Mickey Mouse has changed his life.

You’ve spoken in the past about finding your characters through their physicality. Was that true for Mike as well?

Yeah, definitely, through physicality and through the voice. For Mike, I would say definitely the way in was physical, because Mike shows up as a version of Mike that he wants the world to think he is. He projects this suave, debonair, easygoing, lethal, dark, looming presence, when in fact there’s a lot more beneath the surface and a lot that he doesn’t want the world to see. The physicality, the posture, it definitely informs that. And Mike, despite the fact that he believes he should be at a higher status, he’s really just collecting the criminal milk money for his employer. He can’t seem to get past errand-boy status because he keeps effing up.

So he arrives on the scene in Northern Quebec, a place that he doesn’t necessarily enjoy going, because of what it entails for him to do, picking up these menial bucks for his boss. He just kind of wants to get in and out. So he’s not prepared. He’s wearing his stupid Italian loafers that aren’t weather-ready, he’s wearing his thin coat, and so from the very beginning, Mike is a victim of the elements. This is what I love about this show: this character of Northern Quebec conspires to thwart Mike at every path, and I enjoyed that as an actor.

The minute I saw the snow, first of all, as a card-carrying Stooge, I knew that if I didn't utilize that somehow I’d have to turn in my membership. And I remember on the first take that I slipped and fell, which was completely planned. They cut the take and I said, “What are you doing?” They said, “Oh, we want to make sure you’re okay.” I was like, “It’s called acting.” The showrunners would say, “He doesn’t have to fall in every outside scene.” I said, “Oh, yes, he does.” So they didn’t quite put them all in there, but they thought it was a funny runner. And also, if you’d seen the shoes, you’d realize it makes sense, because he wasn’t ready, anyway.

You can definitely tell those are loafers that have no grip at all. I noted the coat too, because you’re shooting around Montreal in the winter. How relieved were you to be able to switch out of the nice cloth coat into that red parka, at least for a couple of episodes?

It really was freezing. I’m from Toronto, so I know cold, but I liked that it was cold. I’m stupid this way, but they would set warming clothes in my trailer to put on underneath, and I often wouldn’t put them on because there was something about really being miserable and uncomfortable that helped Mike be miserable and uncomfortable. I’m not play-acting at blowing warm air into my hands, I’m trying literally not to freeze. So that was fun. 

Listen, the mission statement behind the parka was: remember the Seinfeld episode with, “GORE-TEX. It’s GORE-TEX, Jerry.” That was it. That ridiculous, giant, I just loved the idea that this guy who considers himself a shadowy lethal weapon emerges in this society in a giant, shiny red, puffy coat that he can’t put his arms down in. He’s like the kid from A Christmas Story. But it was actually great to wear it too, because it certainly was warm in it, that’s for sure.

As a Canadian, when you get offered a role in a show about a maple syrup heist, does any part of you hesitate to do it out of fear of confirming what Americans might already think about Canada and our adorable crimes?

First of all, if you really look at that headline that was in the National Post, tens of millions of dollars’ worth of maple syrup was stolen. You just imagine Mickey Mouse with a microphone: “(Mickey Mouse voice) That’s shocking, folks. Millions of dollars of maple syrup have been stolen.” It’s like, what the fuck are we talking about? This is crazy, but it’s wonderful. 

No, there wasn’t even a moment that I hesitated, for a couple of reasons. Number one, the pedigree of the project being produced by Blumhouse and Jamie Lee Curtis: that was intriguing in and of itself. That Blumhouse would get involved in something like this meant that there was going to be a nerve to this that was going to make it provocative. I knew that for sure. And then add Margo Martindale to the mix, and I just want to play. That’s how I went about it. 

I actually fought for this role. At first, they were sort of like, “Yeah, we will see a bunch of people. We’re not sure.” And I kept pushing and pushing, and they’re like, “Yeah, yeah, maybe we’ll set a meeting.” Finally I was like, “Listen, get me a meeting with Brian Donovan and Ed Herro. I need to talk to these guys.” And when they came on, finally they were like, “Hey, Chris, we’re so happy to meet you.” I was like, “Cut the bullshit. You’re not happy to meet me. You didn’t want to meet me, but I’m telling you, you need me for this show.”

They were so taken aback. I was like, “Listen, I’m going to put my money where my mouth is. I’m not just saying that I need to play this part. I’m going to make a tape and you guys are going to watch it, and then you’re going to call me. You’re going to say, ‘Do the show.’” And that’s exactly what happened. It doesn’t always happen that way. Oftentimes it doesn’t pan out, but I knew that I was right for this. I knew that I would add value to this, and they called and were like, “Dude, we’re in.” And I’m so glad they did because they’re terrific guys. They’re really great writers, and it would’ve been a shame for me not to have the experience that I had on this because it really was a joy.

You played a couple of iconic comic figures early in your career. You already mentioned your Stooge bona fides, having played Moe, and you also played Robin Williams. What did you learn preparing those roles that you’ve carried into your comedic performances as you’ve gone along?

Both of those characters that you mentioned to me were unbelievably important figures in my childhood. I had a poster of Moe, Larry and Curly from Three Little Beers in their golf outfits on my wall from when I was eight years old until I moved out in my teens. I mean, I had Paulina Porizkova on the door and The Stooges above my bed. I’d love to say that I was bred on Aurelius and Shakespeare, but let’s be honest, okay? 

Look, I’ll tell you what I learned from Moe, because I became a Stooge historian. My first public speaking event in sixth grade was a 30-minute speech on Moe Howard, and there wasn’t a lot of reference material. At the World’s Biggest Bookstore in Toronto, there was one book called The Three Stooges Scrapbook, and it gave a backstory of Moe.

Moe was the leader, figuratively, literally, emotionally, physically. He didn’t necessarily write all the scripts, but he may as well have because he had a hand in all of them. He wrangled the Stooges, he took care of their finances, he set up everything. He was the one that would take the meetings with Harry Cohn. I mean, Moe was the guy. And what I learned from him was that if you want something done right, you’ve got to do it yourself. 

He also never looked the gift horse in the mouth. Moe worked until the day he died. When Larry passed away, he cast a character actor that he had put in a bunch of shorts, Emil Sitka, as the new Larry. He was never going to stop because Moe recognized that the movement and the creation and the joy of the Stooges was his life force, and he was going to do it until he died. So I learned that, and boy, oh boy, I hope I could be so lucky as to just keep going until my last breath.

Robin Williams is a little more complicated because I revered him growing up. I still get goosebumps just talking about him because that loss is so grave. And doing that role, I was nobody. I was just an actor that took an opportunity to show to myself and the few people that watched that TV movie that I’m a character actor and there’s a lot that I have to say and that I want to be able to do. It’s just in this capacity, in this stage of my career, this is all I could do. And so I knew that by virtue of what the project was, some people would frown upon it. I’m sure the Robin Williams camp wasn’t happy that they were doing Behind The Camera: The Unauthorized Story of Mork & Mindy. But truly, that entire project was made with love and in veneration of my idol. 

What I learned was that that level of genius and brilliance comes along once in a lifetime. And it was the first time in my career that I got to marry some of my ability and mimicry vocally and physically and sort of show myself, “Hey, you’re not insane for wanting to do this. You’re not insane for having these dreams and goals. Just go. What’s the worst that can happen? You fail. Well, whatever. So you fail.”

You’ve continued to work with Mike Judge since Silicon Valley. Is there any chance we will hear you in the King of the Hill revival that’s coming?

Oh, man, that would be fantastic. I mean, I do a lot of Beavis and Butt-Head for Mike, and I love working with Mike. What people may not know about him is that as prolific as he is as a writer and producer, he’s that prolific as a human being. That guy is salt of the earth, man. He makes salt look polished and shiny. He is a real down-to-earth, humble, soft-spoken, genial, equitable man. And yeah, I’d jump at the chance to work with him again. I will say that he and Alec Berg and I are even chatting about a proper Tres Comas Tequila launch. So stay tuned on that. 

You also provide the voice of Mickey Mouse these days. It’s very different from your normal speaking voice. Is there anything that you do to prepare for those recording days so you don’t strain your voice or give yourself a migraine?

Listen, I originally passed on the audition. It was right after I’d done The Three Stooges, and they reached out to find a Walt Disney soundalike because they wanted to go back to the original. And I passed, because I’m a bass baritone, for the most part. And it wasn’t until I saw Walt Disney on a documentary actually doing the voice that I realized from a physiognomonic standpoint, I didn’t look dissimilar to Disney. And when I watched what he did with his face and his body, I thought maybe I’d be able to do that. So the first season of doing Mickey, I did have to protect my voice when I knew I was doing a two-hour or three-hour session. I couldn’t read the bedtime stories with such aplomb to the kids, and I would try not to talk too much during the day.

Something happened, though. About the end of the first season into the second season, they had a deadline, and we had to deliver the vocals on one of the big shorts with the beautiful music Christopher Willis did. I had bronchitis that was turning into laryngitis, and they were just like, “What are we going to do?” I was like, “Let me do the session. We’ll go as long as I can.” I didn’t warm up. I just thought, “This is the end of my career.” And it was there. It’s like I was a conduit to Mickey, as metaphysical as that sounds. He was like, “(Mickey Mouse voice) Don’t worry, Chris, we got you, pal. We’re going to do it right.” And it was just there.

Ever since that time, I wake up with awful phlegm and terrible head cold or whatever, and then someone will be like, “Oh, we know someone that’s sick, or they’re in the hospital. Can you make a little recording?” And yeah, give me the name. “Howdy there. It’s your good pal, Mickey Mouse.” You know what I mean? It’s like, there it is. It’s there. I don’t know what it is. It’s a magical thing.

You’re touched by Tinkerbell’s wand.

I’m telling you, man.

We can close on this: Your romantic rival from The Office has just been named People’s Sexiest Man Alive. What are your plans to match or best John Krasinski this year?

Oh my gosh. No one’s going to best or match John Krasinski. He’s an excellent guy. It’s well-deserved that he would get that mention and that honor. He’s super-talented, super-hardworking, a humble guy, he’s a family guy. And not for nothing, but what a wonderful sort of evolution that Krasinski had going from The Office and then doing these terrific roles like Jack Ryan, etc., and a prolific director as well. I take my hat off to him and I think that it’s well-deserved. It’s also neat that, culturally, the notion of sexiest man alive encompasses so much more than it might have back in the 1980s. You know what I mean? 

Maybe I could be Sexiest Mouse Alive, one day. I’m putting that one out there. And you know what? Krasinski can’t have it. That’s mine.