The actor is building a no-skips oeuvre one quietly magnetic role at a time. He called up his The Chaperones co-star Paul Dano to compare notes.

WORDS

DATE

SHARE

Twitter
LinkedIn
Facebook
Email
Industry and The Chaperones actor David Jonsson
David Jonsson wears a full look by Hermès, socks by Budd, and a Santos de Cartier watch. Order your copy of the CULT100 issue with Jonsson on the cover here.

In The Chaperones, the upcoming A24 film directed by India Donaldson, a group of three hapless friends attempts to transport a troubled teen cross-country in their van. It’s not David Jonsson’s life story, but there are a few similarities. The London native was expelled from school as a teenager and bounced around for a while, working at pubs and as an Abercrombie & Fitch model before dedicating himself to acting. At 23, he made his West End debut. Then, a plum role as a disillusioned Oxford boy in Industry—modern TV’s omphalos for hot new talent—skyrocketed Jonsson into the limelight.

With 2025’s coveted BAFTA Rising Star Award in hand, Jonsson’s upcoming projects are being watched for more than just their entertainment value. The Chaperones reunites him with Cooper Hoffman, his co-star from the dystopian Stephen King adaptation The Long Walk. Next, there’s the Stateside release of Wasteman, a gritty prison drama that saw the actor lose 35 pounds to play someone on the cusp of parole. We’re also awaiting details on his starring roles in Colman Domingo and Frank Ocean’s upcoming directorial debuts.

For now, the 32-year-old actor is finding some much-needed respite from the enormity of his own impending stardom by goofing off in group chats with his Chaperones co-stars Hoffman, Billy Barratt, and Paul Dano. At 41—and with roles in some of the most influential films of the last two decades, including Little Miss Sunshine, There Will Be Blood, and 12 Years a Slave—Dano was the veteran of the cast, a role he takes as seriously as any of his onscreen parts. Here, the two actors reunited for a few extra notes on life between jobs, their on-set meet-cute, and getting butterflies in front of the camera. —CULTURED

David Jonsson, actor in The Chaperones, Wasteman, and Industry
David wears a shirt by Cecile Tulkens, jeans by Dunhill, a Clash de Cartier bracelet, and Santos de Cartier watch while cuddling with Aloysius in the Churchill Suite of London’s Raffles Hotel.

Paul Dano: The first time I heard of you was when our nanny, who’s in her late 20s, said, “Oh my God, I love David Jonsson.” Then I met you, and we had a really good time together. In fact, the four of us became a really close knit ensemble.

David Jonsson: Oh, dude, a hundred percent. I really miss you. I have adored your work for ages, but it took me a long time to tell you. In fact, I was so excited when we heard that the legend Paul Dano was possibly going to join Chaperones. I remember watching Little Miss Sunshine, which was a very special film to me, and There Will Be Blood. The list just goes on and on. I’m not trying to age you, Paul. I’m just saying that there’s a long list. 

The day I actually first met you—which I don’t know if you remember—was when we were on set. I remember seeing you and you seeing me, and I think I said, “Hey man, nice to meet you.” Then, you just hit that big smile and put your hand to my cheek.

Dano: Really?

Jonsson: It was actually so lovely. It was one of the best ways I’ve met someone.

Dano: Hanging out with you and the other actors, I really got to be young again. In fact, I just recently went to Sundance to do a 20th anniversary screening of Little Miss Sunshine. I hadn’t watched the movie since it had been released, and I remember thinking, Man, 20 years later, I’m the older guy in the van now. Give me a taste of your life since The Chaperones. What’s making you feel good?

Jonsson: The Chaperones is hard to walk away from. Normally by the end of filming, you can shake the character off, but I couldn’t this time. In the first week or two afterward, I felt something I haven’t really felt before. Everyone says they had a good time filming, but I think it was more than that. We all gave a lot to this project. It’s been a bit of life stuff, mixed with producing and work. What about you?

Dano: Zoe [Kazan], my wife, just finished a big job, and I’ve come out of work too, so we’re about to enter a very domestic spring at home with the kids. Since becoming a parent, I’ve realized I need to do something just for myself. So, I’ve developed a writing routine. I don’t want to call it strict, because I enjoy it, but I clock in and clock out, and it really centers my day.

When I was your age—and especially Cooper’s and Billy’s—I didn’t know that about myself at all. Maybe I didn’t need it then, but it’s been one of the real revelations of adulthood, which for me started with parenthood. Having some structure to my day just makes everything better.

Jonsson: You mean self-implemented structure?

Dano: Yeah. I drop my kid off at school, then I go and work from 9 to 12. I try to write or do something creative to center myself. Then the rest of the day can be whatever it is. When I was younger, in between jobs, I had no clue what I was doing—I was just floating, drifting in the wind. Not in a bad way, but still.

It’s really important to shape your time off into something healthy. Especially with the kind of work you do—going deep into roles—it’s important to refill the tank and keep the hunger and curiosity alive.

Jonsson: We spoke a lot about this on set, and I agree with you. It’s all-consuming, isn’t it? I love making movies, but there’s something about remembering that this is a job. It’s a job—but also more than that. Where I’m from in East London, the biggest people in our lives were plumbers and builders. They’d come in, do their job, and sign off. There’s something grounding about that. Because our job can feel ephemeral—you’re chasing something real, and it can go on and on—so you need that balance.

Dano: I’ve come to feel the same way. When I was younger, I wanted it to be magical and romantic—I didn’t want to call it a job. I probably would’ve said something like, “It’s art,” and all that. But there’s a real release in saying, “This is a job. I’m going to treat it seriously.” I care a lot—but we’re also really lucky to do what we do. It’s important to honor it, but also stay grounded.

Actor David Jonsson from the Chaperones and Industry
David wears a shirt and pants by Zegna, Santos de Cartier bracelet, and a Tank Louis Cartier watch.

Dano: This weekend, I finally watched two of your films. I watched The Long Walk—and I wept watching you and Cooper. I couldn’t bear it. You guys were so beautiful. Then I watched Wasteman, which is really good—brutal, brutal violence. I felt that film for hours afterward. You’re so open and strong in The Long Walk and then so guarded in Wasteman. It’s peak openness versus this hidden character.

So my first question is—how did you hide the guns in Wasteman, bro? You looked incredible in The Long Walk, and then so small in Wasteman. What did you do?

Jonsson: Yeah, thanks—I know there’s a compliment in there somewhere.

Dano: It’s incredible. You look so different.

Jonsson: Thank you, man. We actually shot Wasteman first. I lost about 30, 35 pounds for that role because the character is caught in the prison system and struggling with addiction. I wanted it to feel real on screen.

We shot it in 18 days—very indie. Then I had eight weeks before The Long Walk, so I just started eating and putting on muscle as much as I could.

Dano: Eighteen days is fast. Did you rehearse?

Jonsson: A bit of both. We had about a week of rehearsal, mostly for fight sequences. Then we just went for it—18 pages a day, often one take. That energy became part of the film.

Dano: I find that one of the fun but scary things about what we do is that you never quite figure out how to do it, in some ways. What’s your starting point? Is it inside-out or outside-in?

Jonsson: I don’t really like talking about the process, but I’ll give it a go. I think for me, I have to be obsessed with it. I think Tom Hardy said that there’s two kinds of acting: believable and unbelievable. Part of me is like, yeah—that’s it. You just go there by any means necessary.

I don’t mean that in a mercenary way. I just mean you devote yourself to whatever is going to make you think the least.

Dano: That makes me think about the theater a little bit. One of the parts I love about doing a play is the table work you sometimes do at the beginning. Personally, I can’t skip that part. Getting the intellectual work out of the way early on is helpful—whether that’s breaking down the script or doing research and all that kind of stuff—and then slowly walking toward the actual character from there.

But it’s different every time. I’ve been doing this for a long time now, and I still get nervous on day one.

Jonsson: Back on The Chaperones, on day one you gave me that “we’re gonna make a movie” energy. Then on day two, Cooper and I were taking a small break, and we came up to you and asked, “Dude, do you still get nervous?” You replied, “Yeah, of course.” Then, we both looked at each other like, Oh, thank God for that.

But you know what I think it is? I think it’s because you care. When you care, you get nervous. You just have to use it.

Dano: One of the rewarding things about The Chaperones for me, artistically, was wanting to be young again—meaning my most intuitive self. To shoot from the hip and make sure your first instincts are always with you. You’re cultivating that in some way.

Jonsson: Yeah, I totally agree with you. Sometimes we overthink acting, and that’s not acting. Acting is fun. Those first instincts—like you said, being young and not giving a shit—that’s my favorite kind of performance.

Actor David Jonsson from the Chaperones and Industry
David wears layered cardigans by Homme Plissé Issey Miyake, Clash de Cartier jewelry, and a Tank Americaine watch.

Dano: I saw something about you being around 16 when you first spoke about wanting to act. Did you have a clear moment, or was it gradual?

Jonsson: I remember my dad really loved movies. I’ve been thinking more about why I said I wanted to act. I got kicked out of school, and my mom asked me what I wanted to do. I said, “I want to act.” Now I’m like—why did I say that?

I think it’s because the happiest moments in my family were around watching movies. Either at the cinema or at home, watching DVDs together. Afterward, we’d talk about the film for another half hour. Then chaos would start again. But those moments—that’s the power of movies. It gives people a chance to escape. That’s why I wanted to do it.

Dano: I totally relate. When I visit my parents, one of the main ways we connect is watching movies together. We’re not necessarily friends in that way—but we have that. If we can laugh together, that’s something real. Especially now, with everything being called “content,” it’s important to remember—it’s not just filling space. Even if you’re just making someone laugh, there’s real value in that.

Part of the beauty of The Chaperones was that we had to stay in the van, so we entertained each other. We actually got to know each other. Working with Cooper again—what did you discover the second time around?

Jonsson: It’s a blessing to work with people you love because they push you. You’re like, Give me something tough, give me an obstacle I can’t get over—because I’m going to give you one. Working with Cooper—it makes me aware that this doesn’t last forever. It might sound silly, but working with Cooper makes me very aware of my mortality. It makes me aware that you only get so many chances.

David Jonsson actor from The Chaperones and Wasteman
David Jonsson wears a full look by Hermès, socks by Budd, and a Santos de Cartier watch.

Dano: You guys both have such big hearts, man. I feel really lucky to be in the back of your two’s van. It was really special.

Anyways, I asked Twitter if they had any questions for you, so I’ve got a question from @India. It says, “Who makes your cologne?”

Jonsson: No—you are… they didn’t ask you to do this! This is not what CULTURED said you should do. Why are you—just stick to the script. That’s all I ask you to do.

Dano: I’ve just got a few of them. I’m just saying—your fans.

Jonsson: Alright, alright. I’ll do this, I’ll do this.

Dano: Okay, I’ve got one from @Billy. It says, “Where’s the best espresso martini?”

Jonsson: The best espresso martini is in London because that’s where Billy’s old enough to drink.

Dano: I’ve got a question from @Cooper, but I’m going to text it to you because I don’t think we want to say it out loud.

Jonsson: You’re so cheeky.

Dano: I’m going to text you right now—it’s pretty funny.

Jonsson: He’s not only asked a really ridiculous question, but he’s also told you how to ask me.

Dano: Billy wants to add: “Congrats on the huge success of your new movie. Was the title inspired by any of David’s personal character traits?”

Jonsson: Oy, I feel like that’s secretly shot at me. Why is everyone coming for me online? When we’re together, they won’t do this.

Dano: That’s all I got from “Twitter.”

Jonsson: You’re not even on social media!

Dano: No, I did it out of my own volition. I just texted our friends.

Jonsson: Wait—Paul, does this mean you guys have a secret group chat without me?

Dano: I started it yesterday. I said, “I’m interviewing DJ tomorrow.”

Jonsson: You’ve ruined the van for life.

Dano: It’s done. After this interview, it’ll never be used again.

Grooming by Stefan Bertin
Production by Sam Richardson & Jodie Brown
Production Assistance by Archie Fetherstonhaugh
With thanks to Raffles London at the OWO

Order your copy of the CULT100 issue here.

More CULT100 Cover Stories

Keke Palmer Never Got to Play the Boss, So She Became One

Marcello Hernández, SNL’s Youngest Cast Member, Turns to Jamie Foxx for Advice

How Sombr Emerged From Dimes Square Fully Formed as a Pop Star Heartthrob

Vinnie Hacker, the 23-Year-Old Michelangelo of Thirst Traps, Plots a Life After Influencing

Salman Rushdie Tells Laurie Anderson the Truth Behind His New Ghost Stories

Sign up for our newsletter here to get these stories direct to your inbox.

You’ve reached your limit.

Sign up for a digital subscription, starting at less than $3 a week.

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

You’ve almost hit your limit.

You’re approaching your limit of complimentary articles. For expanded access, become a digital subscriber for less than $3 a week.

You’re approaching your limit of complementary articles. For expanded access, become a digital subscriber for less than $2 a week.

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

You’re approaching your limit of complementary articles. For expanded access, become a digital subscriber for less than $2 a week.

GET ACCESS

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

Want more in your life?

For less than the price of a cocktail, you can help independent journalism thrive.

Conner Storrie standing on a street
Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here
Conner Storrie standing on a street

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

Want more in your life?

For less than the price of a cocktail, you can help independent journalism thrive.

Conner Storrie standing on a street
Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here
Conner Storrie standing on a street

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

You’ve almost hit your limit.

You’re approaching your limit of complimentary articles. For expanded access, become a digital subscriber for less than $3 a week.

You’re approaching your limit of complementary articles. For expanded access, become a digital subscriber for less than $2 a week.
Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here
You’re approaching your limit of complementary articles. For expanded access, become a digital subscriber for less than $2 a week.

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

Want more in your life?

For less than the price of a cocktail, you can help independent journalism thrive.

Conner Storrie standing on a street

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

Conner Storrie standing on a street

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

Want a seat at the table? To continue reading this article, sign up today.

Support independent criticism for $10/month (or just $110/year).

Already a subscriber? Log in.