There are four main characters here. We have the quirky semi-alcoholic Eliza, who’d really love to be a photographer but is stuck designing tween underwear for Forever 21. We have the unlucky-in-love trust fund baby Grant, our Jeff Goldblum character from The Big Chill – who no matter how hard he tries, can’t ever seem to get out of the “friend zone” with women. We have stiff-as-a-board Barry, whose disdain for spontaneity explains his desperation to be a lawyer. And we have Jules, a slutty tomboy who invades on our friends’ tight knit circle.

There are a lot of complications for our characters (as there well should be) and they start with Grant, who's been desperately in love with Eliza since the Renaissance Era, but has settled into that horrible best friend consolation bubble hoping that one day she'll change her mind. When she meets a guy on Myspace and falls head over heels with him, Grant realizes that that day isn't coming anytime soon.

Barry’s about to embark on his prestigious law career which will finally allow him to pay back the mountain of debt he’s left behind when his longtime girlfriend tells him no mas. She’s concluded that he’s more boring than elevator music and just like that, a man whose whole world is stability, is no longer in a stable relationship. Everybody somehow convinces Barry to make a “bucket list” of crazy ass things he’d never do and finish it before he enters the corporate world. Get high, have a one night stand, that sort of thing. He doesn’t want to do it but peer pressure gets the best of him.

Later on, Grant meets the tomboyish Jules, who’s in town to visit her feminist lesbian mother she has a Coke Zero relationship with. When Grant brings her into the tight-knit fold of the three amigos, it throws the delicate balance of this triple-friendship off. Barry immediately likes her, but Eliza sees her as a potential threat.

For a moment it looks like everything’s going to fall apart (story-wise) when Jules’ mother reveals she has a brain tumor and a one night stand from Grant’s past shows up telling him he’s the father of their child. I thought, “Uh oh, and into Hallmark Country we go!” But the writers, thank God, ignore the sappy trappings of the tumor stuff and the Grant-baby story actually turns out to be the engine for some great character exploration.

The only two people Grant’s ever had sex with are Eliza, on a drunken college night, and this girl, this *beautiful* girl, who clearly took pity on him one random evening. At first Grant is horrified by the prospect of raising a kid, but as they wait for DNA results to prove he’s the father, Grant becomes addicted to the feeling of having another half, a half he’s dreamt of having his whole life.

But the girl only wants financial help from Grant - nothing more. Watching him cling to her when she won’t even give him the courtesy of PRETENDING she’s interested, is so difficult to watch I had to stop reading a couple of times. You feel so bad for the guy.

Eliza has a great storyline as well. She falls in love with this guy online, they have a whirlwind romance, and for the first time in her life, she’s able to break away from her friends. But after he casually mentions a female friend of his, she looks her up on Myspace (I presume we’d change this to Facebook) and becomes obsessed with her and her strange philosophical blog ramblings.

ISWIS has what I’m looking for in every script. It doesn’t go the way you think it’s going to go. There were so many times where I was like, “Oh boy, here it is. Now we’re going to blah blah blah,” but five pages later, I was proven wrong. For example, I was sure that once Grant met Jules, the two would get involved and he would use her to finally get Eliza to like him. But one scene later, Jules ditches Grant at the bar and starts making out with a random bartender, making me rethink everything. I loved it.

Yes, I do. I’m playing a professor of queer theory in a movie called It Is What It Is, that is co-written and will be directed by a young woman named Susanna Fogel. It’s her first movie. It’s mostly about these four young people, in their mid to late 20′s. I play the mother of one of them, and she’s this really famous, beloved, lesbian professor, who talks about how important it is to own the word cunt, and really use the consonants. It is a comedy, but it’s one of those wonderful indie comedies that’s got a lot of different qualities going on, and I’m very excited about it.