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‘Barry’ Star Sarah Goldberg on Sally’s Final Moments: “Finally, She Has Some Peace”

Logo text[This story contains major spoilers from the series finale of Barry, “Wow.”]

It’d be understandable if you expected things not to work out for Sarah Goldberg’s Sally Reed in the series finale of HBO’s Barry.

After all, things hadn’t been going her way for a while. In season three, just as she finally achieved the success she’d yearned for, the rug was pulled out from under her when her show is canceled (and so is she, after a career-ending outburst and her association with her hitman ex-boyfriend Barry Berkman, played by writer-director-star Bill Hader). In season four, Sally is a shell of herself — or at least she thinks so. Viewers saw her find her way back to Los Angeles and follow Gene Cousineau’s (Henry Winkler) path, pivoting from acting to teaching acting. And while it’s something she’s good at, it’s not the thing she wants. Her ego, eventually, gets in her way once again.

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“She just pushes things too far, wants things too much, can’t absorb, can’t listen,” Goldberg told The Hollywood Reporter ahead of Sunday night’s series finale. “But in each moment, she thinks she’s doing the best thing.”

But Sally’s final moments on screen offer at least one character in Barry’s world some peace. Several years after Barry’s death — he is unceremoniously shot by Gene in the finale — Sally and her son, John, are living far away from Los Angeles, where Sally is a high school drama teacher. It was a long journey for Sally to get there, and the second time jump in the fourth season that left many questions about Sally’s life unanswered for both the audience and the actress playing her.

In a conversation with THR, Goldberg reflects on Barry’s closing moments, how the show consistently blurred the lines between comedy and drama and finally getting the chance to film scenes with co-star Anthony Carrigan as NoHo Hank for the first time in four seasons.

When did you first learn what the final season would have in store for Sally, and what was your reaction to what was going to happen to her?

I knew back when we were shooting season one that the hope was eventually it would end in this very dark space. At the time, Bill asked, “Where would you like to see Sally go?” And I was like, “Let’s go full Woman Under the Influence, Opening Night. That’s where I want her to go.” He was like, “OK, I think I think we can do that.”

Those are two of my favorite movies. They’re so good.

They’re incredible. Gena Rowlands, what a woman. But there was an idea when we did the Macbeth scene in season one that there would be a Macbeth/Lady Macbeth element to the whole thing — the idea that they will commit a crime together. So I had a vague sense. But in terms of the details, the writers went back [during] the pandemic, when we couldn’t shoot season three, to write season four. There were a few phone calls back and forth in that time, getting little pieces of the story. I then learned about the time jump, which I loved — I just felt like that’s going to give us an expanse. We’ll have new things to try, everybody will get a huge turn if we do that. 

In the earlier seasons, we received [all of the scripts] before we started shooting, but partly because of secrecy and partly because of timing, we didn’t get everything [ahead of] time. So there were fun revelations that we got in pieces. When I read episode five for the first time, I was so excited. I just thought,, “We’re gonna make a Wim Wenders movie. It’s going be a completely different show and I’m here for it.” And that scene in the bathroom with Bevel [Spenser Granese], for example, it was one of the only scenes in the whole season where I had no idea what was coming. I was reading as an audience member going, “Is she going to sleep with him? Is she going to kill him?” There were lots of fun twists. And I think we were all thrilled to get to try something new. I mean, how good is Stephen Root as the Raven? He’s, like, iconic.

Was that time jump a challenge for you in terms of figuring out who Sally would be all those years later? We don’t know anything about her life in between.

Well, it took us seven years to shoot for four seasons, so if anything, it was great for the aging. “OK, great, we’ve caught up to our actual ages.” (Laughs.) But, I know what you mean — there’s a huge gap. Someone asked me, “How much did you and Bill talk about everything that happened in between?” And honestly, it makes it sound lazy, but not a lot. I feel like the way this show has worked — and the way we’ve all learned to work with each other, because we’re so comfortable with each other — we can take big risks and big swings, and it doesn’t really matter if you fall on your face. 

A lot of this was stuff that we really had to discover in the moment. We filled in a few broad brushstrokes, but there was so much about it that was about finding something new. I remember when we shot one of the first scenes after the time jump, it was the scene where Barry and Sally are having dinner with John, and Sally’s made the inedible chicken pot pie. And that was the first scene where you saw “Clark” and “Emily” as parents. We don’t usually do that many takes on Barry, but we did quite a lot of takes of that. … How drunk is she? What’s their dynamic with each other now? Do they communicate with each other? Is there any affection between them? Just trying to find what the dynamic was. And we tended to push it too far. Like, I think I played her so drunk, you couldn’t understand any of it. And then I pulled it back. 

There was that challenge in terms of finding the new rhythms that we were moving in. And also in episode five, the whole show slows down; even though we’re in a lot of these big wide shots, it’s very atmospheric. Rhythmically, everything just slowed way down. But that was the thrill and joy of the job, getting to try something totally new. And that’s one of the things I’ve loved about this show so much. There’s so much within Sally; there’s been so much to play — everything from Shakespeare to the worst monologue and the worst action movie you’ve ever seen. Getting to play that many different things within one role is such a gift. 

It also serves the audience because it doesn’t explain too much. The show has always been about mixed tones and blurred lines, so it suits the idea that the audience has to fill up that space just as you did as actors.

I love that because it treats the audience like they’re intelligent; there’s no pandering or unnecessary exposition. There are huge leaps in the show, but I feel like the tone of the show is so elastic and expansive, it can hold it. I’m really going to miss that about this show, because it’s so unique. I can’t imagine Sally giving birth. I just don’t have that scene in my mind. How did we get here? She clearly didn’t want to be a mother. There are those leaps, those gaps to fill. But I think being present in what we were trying to make was the ticket for all of us. 

One of my favorite things to talk about with Barry is the tone — if it’s a comedy or a drama. I mean, I think it’s a very dark, very funny show. But a lot of the humor from Sally comes when you’re playing her completely straight. The desperation she exhibits, the roadblocks she faces — it’s all absurd but also so real for a working actor in Los Angeles. Did you and Bill talk about how far to push the comedic elements in your performance? Did it even feel like you were making a comedy when you were on set?

I have a lot of different answers for you. The tone of the show is so specific, and the first time I read the pilot, I was blown away. I hadn’t read anything like it. I love dark comedies. That would be my chosen genre always, but this was darker and funnier. It sat in its own category for me. And I was thrilled seeing this character, where they sort of Trojan-Horsed in this girl-next-door character. Even within that first episode, you see this pivot of somebody who’s much more twisted and complex and nasty at times. 

I went to theater school in the U.K. and started out in theater, and the acting profession is treated very differently over here than it is in America. You’re sort of treated like a plumber. It’s like you’re just part of society — you’re unclogging the emotional shit. There’s not the same kind of glamour to it, and it’s not about building a persona or anything. You’re a working person who gets a different kind of clogged toilet every time, and you’ve got to apply different skills to that specific toilet. I’m taking this metaphor too far. (Laughs.)

When I first moved to America, there were so many people asking me, “Are you comedy? Are you drama?” The first two plays I did in the States [were] Look Back in Anger, a heavy, heavy drama, and Clybourne Park, a comedy. Everybody was like, “Well, we just don’t know what to make of you.” And I remember feeling so offended by the question. I’m an actor, so hopefully, I’m both. If it’s serious, I’ll be serious, and if it’s funny, hopefully I’ll be funny. My job is to read the tone. 

We have incredible writers [who] write in such a detailed, rhythmic way. My job is to bring that rhythm out so that the jokes are there. Bill, from the beginning, also said to us that you can’t play the comedy, you can’t push for the comedy — you have to play it straight in order for the humor to come through. All these characters, even when they’re doing absolutely ridiculous things, have absolute conviction in the moment that they’re making the best possible choice for their own survival. You have to commit all the way to each absurd thing that they do. I’m also playing with some of the greatest comedic actors in America. I can’t fight for this humor. I can only deliver what I’m seeing moment by moment for this character. There was never a pressure to be funny. I think if that had been the tone on the set, the whole thing might have fallen flat. We all got to play these weird, morally bankrupt people, and within that, these like sparkling lines of comedy shone through.

My favorite part of this season was episode four, particularly the scene with Sian Heder.

Sian Heder! She hadn’t been in front of the camera for so long, so she was nervous. But she nailed it.

She was so good and so funny. We’d already seen Sally come full-circle by leading the acting class but her doing the monologue on set and stepping in front of the actress she was coaching—

It’s one of those beautiful, unplanned moments for me in a very dark season where I do not get a lot of jokes. I couldn’t see Kristen, who was so brilliantly played by Ellen Jameson, behind me, and I couldn’t see the monitor mid-scene. I’d sort of half stepped in front of her, and I could hear all this laughing at the monitor. I didn’t know it was so funny. And then Bill had the brilliant idea to just keep going: “If you just step a little bit to your right, you’re going to totally eclipse her.” Ellen Jameson is about a foot taller than me, but the angle of the camera just really worked. I just thought, “It’s so Sally.” We needed a little bit of our old gal Sal back. That was vintage Sally.

I interviewed Bill ahead of season two, and he talked a lot about how the human condition allows everyone to be a monster in some way. That’s especially true with Sally and Gene’s characters, and their monstrousness is often where the humor lies because it’s not calculated. Sally is never trying to fuck anyone over.

Yeah, it’s not a calculated cruelty. There’s no planned malice. It’s a kind of myopia. And she just pushes things too far, wants things too much, can’t absorb, can’t listen. And this is how it manifests. But in each moment, she thinks she’s doing the best thing. Even in the acting class, she thinks she’s helping this young actress who she sees herself in and she’s like, “I have just the ticket for you. I can help you.” It goes way too far, and it ends up being borderline abusive. But that’s the fun with Sally. Everything is just too much.

Especially after the time jump, we see more elements of her monstrousness coming out. It felt to me like she was being pushed so far that she was delving into a darkness that she knew existed within Barry the whole time. Especially with the bathroom scene, she’s almost seeing how far she can go towards her own monstrousness.

I think you’re really perceptive with how you watch the show, because I think that’s it. She goes into that [moment] not necessarily knowing what she’s going to do. She’s testing how far she can take it. We’re all porous beings, especially in the arts, and Sally is someone who is impressionable. She’s such a mix of things, which is what made her so fun to play. But she has absorbed some of Barry’s rhythms and choices in life. And she’s in a new abusive relationship with him. It’s a different type of abuse, but it’s very much an abusive relationship, and she’s living this lie with him. Initially, she takes that step out of self-preservation. She thinks it’s the one place she’s going to be saved, which, unfortunately, is such a terrible decision. And now she’s living in this hellscape, and her only bit of joy left is putting on this performance of her career every day.

There’s something beautiful about that, though — she’s finally found the perfect role. But in the very end of the series, we see her finally realize what she’s good at: teaching and directing. There are so many performers that come to that realization very late in their careers, that they, like Sally does throughout the four seasons, reject that because it’s not what they want to do.

If we go back to season three, all of her dreams came true for a moment. Now, none of that felt exactly how she anticipated. And the way it comes crashing down so quickly, the rug gets pulled so hard. That’s something that can happen in this business, as we all know. It happened to me. I was on a show that got abruptly canceled after we had a pick up for a second season for over a year, and a month before shooting, we got shut down. The heartbreak that comes with that, and especially for her — she poured everything into this, and it’s so personal — I feel like something broke in her. This animal starts to unleash in the second half of season three, where all the pain of somebody who’s been through the traumatic childhood, the abusive marriage, the lows of Los Angeles, the sexual harassment … She really went through it all. And it starts to escalate, the rage inside her — [it’s] justifiable rage, but again, misfired. 

And that’s where she unleashes and burns every bridge with Natalie (D’Arcy Carden), with Lindsay (Jessy Hodges). And by the end of season three — when she kills this person, which, initially is self defense, but ultimately, she takes it too far — something’s gone. She crosses the threshold, and there’s no return from that. She’s the only character in the show that we see murder someone who isn’t part of a crime cycle — well, besides Gene at the end, which we can now say. Something’s broken in her from the top of season four. I don’t think there’s any hope. Even going to her parents, searching for solace … She can’t find it. 

Then she goes to Los Angeles. She can’t pick her career back up. She is passionate about [teaching] for a moment, but it’s a bust. Then the final humiliation on the set with Sian Heder, giving everything she’s got and being told, “You know, if we could put that on this face.” She hit rock bottom. And then she found the rock under rock bottom. Barry becomes her only option. 

I read that ending for Sally, and I was like, “Oh, so there’s no fireworks.” It’s not like she murders someone or kills herself or crashes the car and kills her son, she’s just putting on a high school production of Our Town, and she’s kind of content. It wasn’t until we shot it that I realized, “Oh, this is beautiful.” Finally, she has some peace. She’s kind of the only one who gets a semblance of a happy ending or something adjacent to a happy ending. 

We met this girl four seasons ago who wanted to be a star. That’s all she wanted. She would have wanted an Oscar and the other accolades that come with fame. Instead, she has a bunch of high school kids applauding her and a bouquet of supermarket flowers, and actually, it’s fulfilling. It’s enough. 

I’ve always thought Sally has this duality of somebody who’s actually an artist and really has something to say but somebody whose kind of narcissism and ruthless ambition is eclipsing. They’re at war with each other. We don’t erase the old Sally. There’s still that beat when her son says, “I love you.” And instead of saying, “I love you, too,” she’s asking for validation and wants to know if the show was good. The old Sally is still there — she’s not fully evolved. But I just love the peace with that ending. 

The finale is also the first time we see Sally mix with the crime syndicate in a big set piece. Those worlds surprisingly never crossed over. Was it exciting for you to finally share a scene with Anthony Carrigan as Noho Hank?

I was so excited. We’ve become such good friends over the years, and we never get to work together. I think there was a pitch in season two where Hank and Sally were supposed to go to the same Pilates class, then they were always talking or complaining about “my Barry,” [not knowing] it’s the same Barry, but I think it ended up being a dead end. I was so excited to work with Anthony, and I was bummed when we didn’t do it. So when I saw that we had scenes together in the finale, I was thrilled. When we shot our first take, I looked into Anthony’s eyes. I was like, “Oh God, I wish we’d had more of this.” 

But that’s the beauty of the show: Because the storylines are so siloed, I can be a fan, as well. I can watch the other storylines and go, “Oh my God, you guys were shooting what?!” I hope it was satisfying for the audience. It was for us. It was this world-colliding moment. Just to be able to hang out in cast chairs, drinking tea together and eating doughnuts. It was such a lovely way to end. I wish we had more but it was something.

Interview has been edited for length and clarity.