Latest news with #Agnes
Sydney Morning Herald
3 hours ago
- Entertainment
- Sydney Morning Herald
A bad thing happened to Eva Victor. What followed was very good indeed
At the dark centre of Agnes' life in Sorry, Baby is The Bad Thing. It is never named, but it involves her academic supervisor, an essay to be discussed after hours, a day that turns into evening. We see the curtains being pulled shut behind the windows of a pleasantly bohemian house – his house – with her inside it, but we don't get past the doorstep. What happens inside remains behind that closed door. Afterwards, we move forward with Agnes – by days, months, years – during which she is promoted to a junior professorship, keeps her panic attacks mostly private, gets a cat, is sometimes very funny, and hurts all the time. Eva Victor's muted, witty debut film was an immediate standout at this year's Sundance Film Festival, where it was picked up by the arthouse disruptor A24 for an estimated $US8million, and where Victor won the prestigious Waldo Salt Screenwriting Award. Victor, hitherto an actor best known for playing a supporting role in Billions, plays Agnes as well as directing. Their presence on screen underlines the personal urgency of the story. How much is autobiographical remains part of the blurry hinterland of the creative process. Victor has never worked in academia, certainly, but has still captured with sharp accuracy the bitter competition for tenure and a corner office. What feels most emotionally immediate, however, with the full force of personal testimony, is whatever happened behind that closed door. Eva Victor is 31, was born in Paris, grew up in San Francisco and went to a French-language school, where they had a classic adolescent engagement with existentialism. 'I remember reading Camus' The Stranger and thinking, 'Yeah, everything sucks',' they told Variety. 'And I just felt seen.' There was a gradual queer coming-out during university and Victor now identifies as non-binary, using both 'she' and 'they' pronouns. 'Non-binary for me has always been the space in-between,' they told Vogue. 'And that's the thing that people are really uncomfortable with. The idea of, 'I can't totally figure you out.' But it's a huge gift to give to yourself: to think you could be more than one thing, that you could be limitless.' Victor was a writer and editor on the satirical feminist website Reductress before being lured into filmmaking; their comic vignettes on YouTube acquired an enthusiastic following that included director Barry Jenkins, whose exquisite gay romance Moonlight won the Best Picture Oscar in 2017. The pair found each other on Twitter; he watched Victor's short films, he said later, and thought 'this person is clearly a filmmaker'. Meanwhile, Victor was writing. Sorry, Baby was not their first script, by any means. 'As a writer, you write and write,' they say. 'And when someone wants to make something, that's your first thing.' Sorry, Baby was written during COVID, while Victor holed up in a cabin with a rescue kitten (on Victor's Instagram feed, they vouch for the healing power of cats and declare they would never make a film in which anything 'remotely sad' happened to one). Victor was working through depression during this period. 'One time I heard someone say they didn't have anxiety or depression, and I was like, 'I don't believe you',' they told Vogue. 'And if it's true, that must be very lonely.' When the script was completed, Jenkins urged Victor to take it to Pastel, the production company he runs with Adele Romanski and Mark Ceryak. There followed a long apprenticeship during which Victor was able to shadow trans filmmaker Jane Schoenbrun as they made I Saw the TV Glow. Loading 'Having made the film, I have a different kind of respect for just how hard it is to make a film and how much heart has to be behind it in order for it to make sense in your life, because it's so intense an experience,' Victor says now. 'So it feels good that as my first film it very much came from inside of me. It's also intense because it has me all over it.' Agnes is not Victor, however; if anything, the difference between them establishes the distance between real events, whatever they are, and the fable of suffering and healing woven within the film. 'I got to create this character who is definitely, yes, partly me but is also this aspirational figure, because she is very blunt and she is really comfortable with silence. I wanted to write someone who felt like in my family but not me. The fictionalising was very joyful too.' Many directors say how hard it is to direct themselves, but that wasn't Victor's experience. 'I really didn't think of her as myself. I always spoke about 'Agnes'. Everyone did that. It was very cool directing myself, like I was giving myself notes, but I didn't have to have a conversation with myself.' Victor's real-life rejection of gender definition finds playful expression in Sorry, Baby when Agnes has to identify her gender on a registration form for jury duty. She ticks female, then doodles a little two-way arrow to the 'male' box, allowing herself a naughty snicker. 'We're told there's boys and girls, but that doesn't feel totally right. So she makes her own little bubble on where she lands on some kind of spectrum,' Victor says. Agnes' best friend and roommate, Lydia – played by English actor Naomi Ackie – is gay and, over the course of the story, falls in love and has a baby. The friends find themselves at very different stages in life. 'Lydia is in this whole place of thinking about bringing life into the world and Agnes is just trying to survive,' Victor says. As much as Sorry, Baby is about trauma, it is also about different kinds of identity. The source of trauma is never described as rape. When Agnes comes home and tells Lydia what happened to her, it is an account of loss of agency and will rather than being physically overpowered, of hitherto certain lines crossed and defences breached. Agnes is her professor Preston Decker's favourite. Louis Cancelmi – another Billions alumnus – makes Decker professorially genial. She admires him; they bond over the writers they love best; he encourages her literary criticism. They banter in tutorials. 'It was important to us that he was charismatic and warm, like this creative partner for Agnes,' Victor says. When Agnes describes Decker pushing his hand down her pants, we share her sheer shock, which is followed by confusion. Rather than unleashing fury, she withdraws into her hurt self. 'I think the film is reckoning with the idea that revenge doesn't always feel like the most honest reaction,' Victor says. 'Because I don't think the reaction to this kind of experience is an eye for an eye. So much of the response is trying to wrap your head around the fact that someone can do such a cruel thing, but also be a person. Later in the film, she says, 'I don't want him to die'. I think in some ways she's a bit disappointed that it's not as simple as that.' Agnes gives up on reporting Decker's crime to anybody after a (very funny) encounter with the university's HR department. The police are not involved; she doesn't want him to go to jail because, as Victor also believes, he would still be a person who was capable of doing The Bad Thing, just banged up in a different place. 'That won't change a thing. Probably her dream would be to know he's thought about it enough and understood it enough that he would never do anything like this again. But there's no path for justice that we know in our society that works that way,' Victor says. Victor made the decision early not to show what happened. 'I think I never wanted to put my audience through a scene like that because we see it so often. But when people ask about it, something I think about is, 'Who's the camera? Who is the one watching?' It's hard for me to imagine where the camera would go.' There are works that focus on the experience of violence that are powerful; they cite I May Destroy You, where the pivotal rape is shot from the victim's point of view – but that wasn't their approach. 'Also, we often hear stories about horrible things that happen to people and we never get to witness them. We have to reckon with the fact we can't witness everything. I wanted the film to have this belief that Agnes' words are enough.' Agnes isn't the kind to wallow in pain; it creeps up on her. She tries for sexual intimacy with her amiable neighbour Gavin (Lucas Hedges) but the moment escapes her. 'It's not violent, but it's going through the motions of something that it feels like she's not really there for,' Victor says. 'One of the things this kind of trauma does is divorce the body from the spirit. I think it's a very surreal thing to understand that the rule we're told, that your body is your own, can be broken by someone. That is a very sad, daunting thing to come to terms with. In this case, it makes Agnes start from scratch with her body again.' That certainly speaks of Eva Victor's experience. 'I spent years floating, just trying to accept that I went through something bad,' they have said. ' Sorry, Baby honours those years lost. The quiet years where you still have to go to work surrounded by constant reminders, reminders that are invisible to others, that you're not like everyone else. The years where your friend's support can save your life, and where strangers can often make you feel safer than the people you're told to trust.' Lydia, Agnes' roommate, is a direct portrait of a friend Victor made in theatre camp as a teenager. They still call each other every day. John Carroll Lynch plays that invaluable stranger, who sees Agnes having a panic attack near his roadside sandwich bar, talks her through it, makes her a sandwich and sits on the kerb with her, munching companionably. Despite its dark background, Sorry, Baby is full of these moments of whimsy and lightheartedness. Hedges, speaking to Variety, compared Victor to Kenneth Lonergan, the master of downbeat realism who directed him in Manchester by the Sea, before saying they are not really like anyone. There is just as much in Victor of the spirit of Miranda July: in their chapter headings, off-kilter jokes and intimacy, something like reading a journal with cartoons in the margin. Victor cites Kelly Reichardt's Certain Women as a touchstone for this film, but is just as enthused by the raunchy Mexican sex comedy Y tu mama tambien, Alfonso Cuaron's breakthrough hit. Loading Eva Victor refuses to be limited by genre or gender. It will be fascinating to see what they do next. Sorry, Baby is at the Melbourne International Film Festival, which runs August 7-24, and in cinemas from September 4;
The Age
3 hours ago
- Entertainment
- The Age
A bad thing happened to Eva Victor. What followed was very good indeed
At the dark centre of Agnes' life in Sorry, Baby is The Bad Thing. It is never named, but it involves her academic supervisor, an essay to be discussed after hours, a day that turns into evening. We see the curtains being pulled shut behind the windows of a pleasantly bohemian house – his house – with her inside it, but we don't get past the doorstep. What happens inside remains behind that closed door. Afterwards, we move forward with Agnes – by days, months, years – during which she is promoted to a junior professorship, keeps her panic attacks mostly private, gets a cat, is sometimes very funny, and hurts all the time. Eva Victor's muted, witty debut film was an immediate standout at this year's Sundance Film Festival, where it was picked up by the arthouse disruptor A24 for an estimated $US8million, and where Victor won the prestigious Waldo Salt Screenwriting Award. Victor, hitherto an actor best known for playing a supporting role in Billions, plays Agnes as well as directing. Their presence on screen underlines the personal urgency of the story. How much is autobiographical remains part of the blurry hinterland of the creative process. Victor has never worked in academia, certainly, but has still captured with sharp accuracy the bitter competition for tenure and a corner office. What feels most emotionally immediate, however, with the full force of personal testimony, is whatever happened behind that closed door. Eva Victor is 31, was born in Paris, grew up in San Francisco and went to a French-language school, where they had a classic adolescent engagement with existentialism. 'I remember reading Camus' The Stranger and thinking, 'Yeah, everything sucks',' they told Variety. 'And I just felt seen.' There was a gradual queer coming-out during university and Victor now identifies as non-binary, using both 'she' and 'they' pronouns. 'Non-binary for me has always been the space in-between,' they told Vogue. 'And that's the thing that people are really uncomfortable with. The idea of, 'I can't totally figure you out.' But it's a huge gift to give to yourself: to think you could be more than one thing, that you could be limitless.' Victor was a writer and editor on the satirical feminist website Reductress before being lured into filmmaking; their comic vignettes on YouTube acquired an enthusiastic following that included director Barry Jenkins, whose exquisite gay romance Moonlight won the Best Picture Oscar in 2017. The pair found each other on Twitter; he watched Victor's short films, he said later, and thought 'this person is clearly a filmmaker'. Meanwhile, Victor was writing. Sorry, Baby was not their first script, by any means. 'As a writer, you write and write,' they say. 'And when someone wants to make something, that's your first thing.' Sorry, Baby was written during COVID, while Victor holed up in a cabin with a rescue kitten (on Victor's Instagram feed, they vouch for the healing power of cats and declare they would never make a film in which anything 'remotely sad' happened to one). Victor was working through depression during this period. 'One time I heard someone say they didn't have anxiety or depression, and I was like, 'I don't believe you',' they told Vogue. 'And if it's true, that must be very lonely.' When the script was completed, Jenkins urged Victor to take it to Pastel, the production company he runs with Adele Romanski and Mark Ceryak. There followed a long apprenticeship during which Victor was able to shadow trans filmmaker Jane Schoenbrun as they made I Saw the TV Glow. Loading 'Having made the film, I have a different kind of respect for just how hard it is to make a film and how much heart has to be behind it in order for it to make sense in your life, because it's so intense an experience,' Victor says now. 'So it feels good that as my first film it very much came from inside of me. It's also intense because it has me all over it.' Agnes is not Victor, however; if anything, the difference between them establishes the distance between real events, whatever they are, and the fable of suffering and healing woven within the film. 'I got to create this character who is definitely, yes, partly me but is also this aspirational figure, because she is very blunt and she is really comfortable with silence. I wanted to write someone who felt like in my family but not me. The fictionalising was very joyful too.' Many directors say how hard it is to direct themselves, but that wasn't Victor's experience. 'I really didn't think of her as myself. I always spoke about 'Agnes'. Everyone did that. It was very cool directing myself, like I was giving myself notes, but I didn't have to have a conversation with myself.' Victor's real-life rejection of gender definition finds playful expression in Sorry, Baby when Agnes has to identify her gender on a registration form for jury duty. She ticks female, then doodles a little two-way arrow to the 'male' box, allowing herself a naughty snicker. 'We're told there's boys and girls, but that doesn't feel totally right. So she makes her own little bubble on where she lands on some kind of spectrum,' Victor says. Agnes' best friend and roommate, Lydia – played by English actor Naomi Ackie – is gay and, over the course of the story, falls in love and has a baby. The friends find themselves at very different stages in life. 'Lydia is in this whole place of thinking about bringing life into the world and Agnes is just trying to survive,' Victor says. As much as Sorry, Baby is about trauma, it is also about different kinds of identity. The source of trauma is never described as rape. When Agnes comes home and tells Lydia what happened to her, it is an account of loss of agency and will rather than being physically overpowered, of hitherto certain lines crossed and defences breached. Agnes is her professor Preston Decker's favourite. Louis Cancelmi – another Billions alumnus – makes Decker professorially genial. She admires him; they bond over the writers they love best; he encourages her literary criticism. They banter in tutorials. 'It was important to us that he was charismatic and warm, like this creative partner for Agnes,' Victor says. When Agnes describes Decker pushing his hand down her pants, we share her sheer shock, which is followed by confusion. Rather than unleashing fury, she withdraws into her hurt self. 'I think the film is reckoning with the idea that revenge doesn't always feel like the most honest reaction,' Victor says. 'Because I don't think the reaction to this kind of experience is an eye for an eye. So much of the response is trying to wrap your head around the fact that someone can do such a cruel thing, but also be a person. Later in the film, she says, 'I don't want him to die'. I think in some ways she's a bit disappointed that it's not as simple as that.' Agnes gives up on reporting Decker's crime to anybody after a (very funny) encounter with the university's HR department. The police are not involved; she doesn't want him to go to jail because, as Victor also believes, he would still be a person who was capable of doing The Bad Thing, just banged up in a different place. 'That won't change a thing. Probably her dream would be to know he's thought about it enough and understood it enough that he would never do anything like this again. But there's no path for justice that we know in our society that works that way,' Victor says. Victor made the decision early not to show what happened. 'I think I never wanted to put my audience through a scene like that because we see it so often. But when people ask about it, something I think about is, 'Who's the camera? Who is the one watching?' It's hard for me to imagine where the camera would go.' There are works that focus on the experience of violence that are powerful; they cite I May Destroy You, where the pivotal rape is shot from the victim's point of view – but that wasn't their approach. 'Also, we often hear stories about horrible things that happen to people and we never get to witness them. We have to reckon with the fact we can't witness everything. I wanted the film to have this belief that Agnes' words are enough.' Agnes isn't the kind to wallow in pain; it creeps up on her. She tries for sexual intimacy with her amiable neighbour Gavin (Lucas Hedges) but the moment escapes her. 'It's not violent, but it's going through the motions of something that it feels like she's not really there for,' Victor says. 'One of the things this kind of trauma does is divorce the body from the spirit. I think it's a very surreal thing to understand that the rule we're told, that your body is your own, can be broken by someone. That is a very sad, daunting thing to come to terms with. In this case, it makes Agnes start from scratch with her body again.' That certainly speaks of Eva Victor's experience. 'I spent years floating, just trying to accept that I went through something bad,' they have said. ' Sorry, Baby honours those years lost. The quiet years where you still have to go to work surrounded by constant reminders, reminders that are invisible to others, that you're not like everyone else. The years where your friend's support can save your life, and where strangers can often make you feel safer than the people you're told to trust.' Lydia, Agnes' roommate, is a direct portrait of a friend Victor made in theatre camp as a teenager. They still call each other every day. John Carroll Lynch plays that invaluable stranger, who sees Agnes having a panic attack near his roadside sandwich bar, talks her through it, makes her a sandwich and sits on the kerb with her, munching companionably. Despite its dark background, Sorry, Baby is full of these moments of whimsy and lightheartedness. Hedges, speaking to Variety, compared Victor to Kenneth Lonergan, the master of downbeat realism who directed him in Manchester by the Sea, before saying they are not really like anyone. There is just as much in Victor of the spirit of Miranda July: in their chapter headings, off-kilter jokes and intimacy, something like reading a journal with cartoons in the margin. Victor cites Kelly Reichardt's Certain Women as a touchstone for this film, but is just as enthused by the raunchy Mexican sex comedy Y tu mama tambien, Alfonso Cuaron's breakthrough hit. Loading Eva Victor refuses to be limited by genre or gender. It will be fascinating to see what they do next. Sorry, Baby is at the Melbourne International Film Festival, which runs August 7-24, and in cinemas from September 4;
The Citizen
2 days ago
- General
- The Citizen
Control Room Attendant dies in tragic accident
The community of Parys is grieving the sudden and tragic loss of 49 year old Agnes (Mpe) Mofokeng, a dedicated member of the Ngwathe Fire and Rescue Service, who passed away following a fatal car accident in the early hours of Sunday morning. The accident occurred at approximately 05:15 on the R59 near Valtrac, when the vehicle in which she was travelling as a passenger collided with a truck. Agnes was rushed to the Emfuleni MediClinic but sadly succumbed to her injuries on her way to hospital. The driver of the vehicle was transported from the scene for emergency medical treatment, while the truck driver was not injured. Agnes had served the Ngwathe Fire and Rescue Service for a decade, earning deep respect for her unwavering dedication. Initially involved on the front lines of emergency scenes, she later became a control room attendant, where her calm voice and firm guidance became familiar to many residents in times of crisis. 'She was well known by the public for her loyalty and dedication towards her job, not only in the control room but also out in the field during her earlier years,' said Maggy Mkhwane, a close colleague and RIMS Steering Committee member. Madile Masilo, who worked alongside her for the past ten years will remember her as a dear friend, a shoulder you could cry on, humble, and a lady with integrity. 'She was everything to me — a darling who would help you even when she had nothing,' Masilo said. Her kindness and generosity extended beyond her professional life. Thembile Botya, a family member, described her as 'a down-to-earth person, always willing to assist.' Apart from her work, she had a talent for baking, he said. Agnes leaves behind her three children, aged 13, 22 and 34, her mother and sisters, and the team at Ngwathe Fire and Rescue Service. Her loss is deeply felt across the community she served. *Agnes' death follow less than a month after two members of the Ngwathe Local Municipality's Fire & Rescue Service were injured in an accident on the R59 between Parys and Vredefort on their way to a fire scene, when the Land Cruiser they were travelling with, hit a cow on the road in the dark.
Eater
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- Eater
4 Restaurants to Try This Weekend in Los Angeles: July 25
Every Friday, our editors compile a trusty list of recommendations to answer the most pressing of questions: 'Where should I eat?' Here now are four places to check out this weekend in Los Angeles. And if you need some ideas on where to drink, here's our list of the hottest places to get cocktails in town. For a party atmosphere with equally vibrant food: Lucia A dimly lit room with a central bar with palm-shaped structures emerging at Lucia. Wonho Frank Lee Walking into Lucia, a vibrating new restaurant on Fairfax, begins with a funhouse mirror effect. But entering the space from the column-glass vestibule entrance moves the experience from a fractal one to one of integration — an experience that deals in high-concept design and unmitigated Black joy. Scalloped structures behind the bar mirror that cave-like banquettes that line the main dining room, where the mood lighting gets even moodier come 8 p.m., the time when Lucia's early-dinner energy turns into a more party-like late-dinner atmosphere with louder music and bigger groups vying for tables or bar seats. (The okra martini beckons.) Don't miss the vegan lychee ceviche, wine red from its sorrel infusion; the wagyu patties with mango scotch-bonnet sauce; the dripping jerk chicken; or the verdant snapper swimming in a coconut-culantro sauce. Bed it all in the equally coconuty rice and peas to sop up the sauces — and let the boisterous room be your entertainment for the night. 351 N. Fairfax Avenue, Los Angeles, CA, 90036. — Nicole Adlman, Eater cities manager For Los Angeles's most beautiful sourdough: Hasi Bread in Mar Vista A cut loaf of colorful blue and yellow sourdough bread from Hasi Bread. Matthew Kang Farmers market regulars Hasi Bread finally has a space to call its own. The sourdough bakery has settled into its first permanent space in the Del Rey/Mar Vista area in the former home of Hotcakes Bakes. Here, Hasi's signature yellow-and-blue sourdough bread, tinged with turmeric and butterfly pea flower, lives on full display. The rest of the pastry case comprises croissants, challah, English muffins, and more from baker Matias Barang. The bread is excellent in sandwiches, or as next-day French toast, but its best form may be with just a pat of salted butter. 4119 S. Centinela Boulevard, Los Angeles, CA, 90066.— Rebecca Roland, deputy editor, Eater Southern California/Southwest For a comforting meal in the heart of Old Pasadena: Agnes Cornbread eclais with chicken liver mousse, chives, and Luxardo Cherries. Matthew Kang Thomas and wife/partner/cheesemonger Vanessa Tilaka Kalb have really put together one of Pasadena's most appealing restaurants of the past few years. Opened in the early days of the pandemic and navigating a challenging location in a mostly chain restaurant area, Agnes has managed to become a mainstay in Old Pasadena. The versatile space, with a cozy main dining room that overlooks an open kitchen, as well as the airy back patio, offers different experiences depending on the occasion. Soaring ceilings, open skylights, brick walls, black and white family photos, and grandma-print upholstery convey a place to relax and enjoy a meal. Most people will want to start with the cornbread eclairs topped with piped chicken liver and topped with marinated cherries. It's such a postcard of the Kalbs' Midwest sensibility with mid-century elegance. Hazelnut hummus acts as a spreadable pillow underneath the beet-Asian pear salad, a vegetable interlude before more substantial mains like the baked potato gnocchi, a truly brilliant dish that rejiggers the steakhouse side. Thai-inflected grilled skirt steak gains the smokiness of the wood-burning grill, while crispy Thai-style fried chicken would warm any grandmother's heart. Even the child's chicken tenders, long pieces of chicken cutlet, are one of the best kid's menu dishes in Los Angeles. The only caveat is that the cavalcade of rich cheese and heaviness from so much of the food will start to accumulate, so don't over order and leave room for either a cheese plate for dessert or the inventive s'mores choco taco to finish. 40 W. Green Street, Pasadena, CA 91105. — Matthew Kang, lead editor, Eater Southern California/Southwest To support two young hot dog entrepreneurs: Glizzy Street in Long Beach Hot dog, or 'glizzy' from Glizzy Street Mona Holmes If you're in Los Angeles and scroll through Instagram or TikTok regularly, then you know about Glizzy Street. In late June, the 16-year-old Chazz and Chaze Clemons opened their hot dog cart in their family's gas station parking lot. In less than one week, Glizzy Street went viral, and supporters drove in from neighboring regions, waiting up to an hour to try one of their bacon-wrapped hot dogs topped with onions, bell peppers, jalapeños, and barbecue sauce. The duo were recently flown to New York City to appear on NBC's Today with Jenna & Friends, upgraded their equipment with additional grills, gifted custom hats, and, well, you get the drift. The Clemons twins and Glizzy Street have hit the big time. The twins spend their morning prepping, then from 4 p.m. to 8 p.m., they serve their dogs, blue raspberry Kool-Aid, and aguas frescas. It's not as if one can't find these ubiquitous bacon-wrapped staples anywhere else in Los Angeles, especially when exiting a concert venue. But the Clemons brothers encapsulated something that the embattled region needs right now: Being part of a massive community that supports two young locals operating a budding business on the border of Long Beach and Compton. American Oil Gas Station, 6850 Long Beach Boulevard. Long Beach, CA, 90805. — Mona Holmes, editor, Eater Southern California/Southwest Related The 38 Best Restaurants in Los Angeles Eater LA All your essential food and restaurant intel delivered to you Email (required) Sign Up By submitting your email, you agree to our Terms and Privacy Notice . This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.
Cosmopolitan
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- Cosmopolitan
How Does Agnes in ‘The Summer I Turned Pretty' Differ From the Books?
The Summer I Turned Pretty's third and final season is in full swing, and while all of the characters have changed thanks to a four-year time jump, one of the most surprising shifts has been in broody Conrad Fisher—he's got a friend! Specifically, Agnes, who is quickly becoming a fan favorite. Fans of the original series will recognize her as Conrad's college fling from We'll Always Have Summer, but the Agnes in The Summer I Turned Pretty is very different from the one in the books. Agnes only appears briefly in We'll Always Have Summer, the final book in the original TSITP trilogy, but in show, she's a pretty key part of the story. And those changes, according to actor Zoé de Grand'Maison's interview with Teen Vogue, the changes in her character came directly from Jenny Han herself. 'She said, 'Take a look at the scene in the book.' I was like, 'I already have [laughs].' She said, essentially, we're gonna expand the character and dive into that friendship a little more,' she recounted. In the show, Agnes and Conrad still have a bit of a romantic past, and it's implied that Agnes wanted to have a real relationship with him and he turned her down. But she's more than an ex, she's his best friend and confidante. She's the one person Conrad can actually be honest with about his feelings for Belly, which in turn helps the audience get to know him better. 'I feel like my character's purpose is that I finally give the audience a chance to get into Conrad's head, because she's able to open him up and pull these things out of him,' Zoé said, calling Agnes his 'unpaid therapist.' Later in the interview, she went further, noting, 'We've all seen that sexy, brooding character, and in the movie or show, being that way always works out for them. I like that Jenny challenges that. He needs to grow, and it is cool that Agnes is playing a huge role in being like, 'Hey, buddy, you know, you're great and I have so much love for you, but you need to make some changes here and you need to address these feelings.''
