Adam Friedland’s Secret Weapon? An Unapologetic Cold Call

Welcome to Routine Excellence, a GQ column where high-achievers share the key rituals that help them perform at their best.

In a world of texters, Adam Friedland is a self-described phone-call guy by necessity. Since launching his irreverent Dick Cavett–style conversation show in 2022, he’s earned critical acclaim for cajoling a wide range of interview subjects into revelatory exchanges. (It’s the only program where you can see California governor Gavin Newsom tear up and 2 Chainz share a joint with the host.) He’s also racked up over 100 million views on YouTube and can now summon the booking power of his cable counterparts. But his ascent has required some grind. “Late-night talk shows have hundreds of people working for them,” says Friedland. “We’ve had to bootstrap a lot.”

That means Friedland plays a hybrid role—not just as onscreen talent but also as the behind-the-scenes talent booker. “I’ll be working the phones a lot of the day,” he says. “I call people all the time, whether it’s to bother them—Do you have this person’s number? Can I get them on the show?—or just to get information. It feels very 1990s Hollywood.” The Cum Town podcast alum is aware that his methods can often be unwelcome in a culture that has normalized the pre-call-alert text. “People behind my back characterize me as just firing off intrusive phone calls out of the blue,” he says.

But hey, it works. Last season, when he wanted to interview the journalist Olivia Nuzzi, he admittedly rang her so many times that she finally acquiesced. “Most things get done when you’re on a phone call,” he says.

The day I speak to him on, yes, the phone, he’s prepping for three consecutive interviews. To do so, he draws from the extensive research his staff compiles and maps out a game plan. He took, for instance, a whole two weeks to “go crazy” on the concept of Alec Baldwin. “Half of it is, What’s a way to talk to a person that no one has?” he says. “The other half is, How do I accommodate someone that I’ve never met in order for them to be disarmed?” Friedland is sometimes up late, on the phone, fiddling with the puzzle pieces of his subjects or refining material with collaborators—tasks not suited for email. “You know if something’s funny,” he says, “if it makes someone whose sense of humor you respect laugh.”

We chatted with Friedland about how he prepares for his interviews, his love of sports, and how he got over the fear of giving something his best shot.

GQ: Thanks for taking the time to chat. I really appreciate it.

Adam Friedland: No problem. I hope this’ll be not the most boring interview you’ve ever had, but we’ll see.

I’ll let you know at the end.

Okay, sure.

Is there a particular theme or uniting vision for season three of the show? More politics ahead of the primaries?

The show’s grown pretty much since its inception, so it’s just continuing that trajectory. First and foremost, it’s a comedy show, so I want everything to be at least interesting and to speak to something more cultural than political. I know I’ve kind of veered from that territory in a couple of instances, but the happy medium is kind of like the Gavin Newsom episode we had, which was sufficiently funny and weird and substantive at points. But I think when comedians go politics, you stop being funny. So if I can’t find something interesting or compelling or something that speaks to a cultural moment, then I’m not too keen on going in that direction, but we’ll see. I mean, this has kind of just happened. When I say I’m in preproduction, it’s not like I’m looking at a map of Europe and deciding when to invade Poland. I don’t know why I used Hitler as an example. I’m not Hitler. I don’t know why I said that.

We’re clear on that point then.

Yeah. Okay, fine. But I’m not doing what Hitler would. Exactly. The point stands. Okay. Yeah, I’m not Hitler.

But regardless of that, I do imagine that since evolving from Cum Town to now being in your third season, spending money from your own savings to do preproduction stuff, you need to prepare in order to make someone like Gavin Newsom feel comfortable enough to call you bro and tear up within the same hour.

Yeah. The goal is to disarm the guests. There’s a lot of research that goes into the show.

So tell me about the creative scaffolding you’ve built in.

I try to do extensive work beforehand, and I have people that I work with that are researchers, and I try to have a game plan that’s a little bit more considered than people may realize or maybe it comes across. But the primary consideration is what kind of person it is. And the neat part about that is that it’s a person I’ve never met, so I’m kind of piecing together information that I find and [from] people that I’ve talked to. It’s kind of like a puzzle.

Half of it is, What’s a way to talk to a person that no one has? The other half is, How do I accommodate someone that I’ve never met in order for them to be disarmed? So it’s a pretty boring answer, but it’s fun sometimes with a bigger guest. Like with Alec Baldwin, there’s this notion of him being a hothead and all this stuff. But I could tell that’s kind of tabloidy and maybe there’s more depth to people than just what you hear. There’s more depth to people than the way that they’re gossiped about or characterized. And what I find is that the show is a good opportunity to show people as they really are.

When you’re doing that research, do you make a dossier or something where you’re like, “This is what I need to know about their career arc, this is what I need to know about their soul,” or something?

Some of them have been pretty extensive. There’s various elements that go into it. You also have to consider the audience. You don’t want to talk above people’s heads. You want to take what a normal person would know about something or someone and find a way for the guest to connect with that. So instead of building it out from a biography, you kind of build it out from an audience member and then how could this guest speak to those things that this person knows.

What’s the average time span of that process from booking somebody to research to filming?

Sometimes it could be really fast, depending on people’s schedules. I prefer it to have some runway where we can really get into it, especially if it’s a more interesting guest. I keep thinking of Alec Baldwin, but yeah, that one we had two weeks to go crazy on. I have a researcher that reads multiple books, and he’s just a psycho, and he’s really…. Shout out to Justin, the best guy I’ve ever met. Justin. He’s got a real future ahead of him.

We’ve been working together for a while, and through doing the show, I’ve developed a language for the interviews and for the comedy. And that really is half prep and then half postproduction, I would say, and editing and telling a story, I guess. These are really boring answers.

So since you’re in the thick of it now, does that require some self-discipline?

No, it’s really cool that I get to do this. I think it’s totally different than if your boss is telling you to do something. I feel very fortunate that I get to do it, so I work really hard. And also it’s really cool and fun. I really like what I’m doing, and I think most people hate their job. So if you find a way to like what you’re doing, it’s really fucking rare. And I don’t want to take that for granted. So yes, because it’s interesting to me, I bust my ass. It’s not finding motivation. It’s more so it’s kind of there. Plus I didn’t really work hard for most of my life. So it’s like when you find that you start working hard, you don’t want to go back to lazy. You kind of feel like you just wasted a lot of the time. I think I kind of want to work forever.

But what does that mean in practice? Does that mean you wake up in the morning and then you, I don’t know, start working at 9 a.m. and don’t stop till midnight?

It’s not so structured. I would say it’s deadline-oriented. But the benefit is that there’s so much to do that you can’t really dwell on what people think about…. I mean, if my friends like it, that’s pretty cool. But I don’t really dwell on where this exists. People say it’s going well. It sounds like false modesty, but I am just at a studio with three guys that work with me, and then I’m at home and I’m with my wife. I found a way that in order to maintain productivity, you have to streamline your life.

What does that look like?

I go to the studio and then I come home and I have dinner. If I have an interview the next day, I’ll probably be up prepping and stuff or on the phone. I’m on the phone a lot. I’m a phone call guy. I call people all the time, whether it’s to bother them—Do you have this person’s number? Can I get them on the show?—or just to get information. It feels very 1990s Hollywood. People behind my back characterize me as just firing off intrusive phone calls out of the blue.

People take it as violence these days when it’s really not.

Fuck them. I’m sorry. If I’m trying to actually have a productive conversation, a text takes so much longer. And also you could make jokes and goof around a little bit. It’s fun.

It sounds like you’re pretty collaborative with the people you’re working with production-wise.

Yeah, totally. I’ll be working the phones a lot of the day. You know if something’s funny if it makes someone whose sense of humor you respect laugh. So it’s easier if you’re making a comedy show to surround yourself with people who you trust. That’s how I work well. I bother people until I get the answers I want. Most things get done when you’re on a phone call. If you send an email or a text, the success rate of figuring out the thing that you want to figure out is less successful, I would say.

Do you have any interviewer idols?

I liked Howard Stern a lot.

What did you like about him?

He was able to be your best friend immediately. He was able to really disarm the [guest]. It’s like magic when you watch him. But within 90 seconds, you’re his best friend and you’re open. And he’s just the master of that. And he would have interviews where you saw people that you thought you knew or that were super famous or you’d see them in an entirely different light.

The inspiration for the set and everything was Dick Cavett, who had this long-form interview show where you’d watch John and Yoko or Orson Wells, and they’d communicate and you’d see them in a way that you never really got to see them. So that’s the objective of the show, I’d say. I’ll put it this way. You watch late-night talk shows, it’s like the way that they communicate with the guests is fucking weird. They’re like, “Tell me an anecdote and then what’s the movie?” And then they play a clip. It’s a six-minute conversation that’s not really a conversation. It’s kind of just all set up. Instead, I have people, usually it’ll be 90 minutes to 2 hours. I think that you can explore and find really interesting things that you can’t otherwise.

What do you do if you’re feeling unfunny or in a creative bind?

I don’t know. I think the objective isn’t just to do Between Two Ferns. There’s more of a substantive aspect to it. And I feel like if I have a substantive framework, I can find ways to fill in the gaps comedically. I’ve been doing comedy for a long time. And also that’s just how I am when I meet people or talk to people. I’m annoying. So that to me is just less of a concern than having actually something interesting to talk about. I could fucking do the bullshit.

That’s no worry to you.

Well, yeah, I’m an incredibly superficial person.

I think you mentioned in your Zohran Mamdani interview that your partner gets mad at you for working too much. Is that true?

I wouldn’t say that she gets mad at me, but yeah, it must be annoying if she hears me on the phone. I’m trying more so not to take my work home with me, less staying up till 2 a.m. to prep. Late-night talk shows have hundreds of people working for them. We’ve had to bootstrap a lot. But I’m 40. I need my sleep. I’m not 40; I’m 39. Let’s clarify. For the record, on the record, I’m 39. It’s a pathetic age. It’s really horrible sounding.

I’m about to turn 38. I agree.

Thirty-eight’s fine; 39 is like, “You should kill yourself.” Forty is like, “That guy doesn’t give a fuck.” No, 39 is like, “That guy’s a loser. He’s about to be 40.” But at 40, you’re like, “Oh, that guy’s just living life.”

Silver fox.

Yeah. There’s a zen in it. Thirty-nine stinks.

What do you do when you’re not working? Is there something that you need to do to unwind so that you can clear your mind a little?

I’m probably just working or at least trying not to. I don’t know. I don’t really think so deliberately about those kind of things. Perhaps, I don’t know, I just spend time with my friends and family.

Do you have any hobbies?

I just started golfing.

That counts. Also, a very 39-year-old activity.

Yeah. Books about history and golf. Yeah, just pretty much a middle-aged white guy. I think there’s an inflection point in every middle-aged Jewish man’s life where you go Zionism or you go golf, military history. So I’m going that way.

Is there any moment in the span of all of your interviews that comes to mind as a really successful one in part because you really nailed the lead-up to it, nailed the process of researching them, and felt like, “Okay, I have my method down”?

The method is refined and evolved. I think that if I watched anything I’ve ever done, I would be like, “I’d change this, this, this, and this.” People that do something and they’re like, “I’m a genius,” I think they’re probably just not. Usually you only get better if you just struggle against something and then put it out and then put it out of your mind.

So you don’t really think about how you did after an interview?

I don’t know, if it felt good. Sometimes it didn’t feel good and it ends up being good. When I had that guy from Barstool Sports, Dave Portnoy, in the room, it was awful. And I think the episode was pretty good. But at the time I was like, “That’s terrible.” He didn’t know what to make of me. And then he found out I knew more about sports than him and stuff, and his brain was short-circuiting. He was like, “What the hell kind of guy is this? I don’t know how to classify this kind of guy.”

So that’s an example of even though the feelings in the room or the vibes were off, it turned out to be really good. I’m a stand-up comedian, so if it’s not getting a laugh, I’m like, “Was that bad?” But for the most part, I’m kind of used to it by now. So it’s like, “Oh, let’s see what we get back in the footage.”

Is there anything about your process that you think is unique to you?

I don’t know. Are there other things that are like this? I don’t know. I feel like I’m so lucky I get to do it, and I have come up with something that works for me, but I don’t know. What’s Joe Rogan do? I don’t know. He’s probably eating elk and fighting guys or something. I don’t know if it’s unique or if it’s incredibly boring, but the way I’ve negotiated my life has just kept me grounded and just productive.

And what way is that?

I go to work and then I come home and I have dinner and watch a movie maybe with my wife, or I work if I have something the next day. I have three interviews in a row this week. So I’ve been making sure that I’m not going to kill myself this week, but in three consecutive days. I’m not going to the Chateau Marmont.

So maybe the secret is not much of a secret at all.

It’s just be normal. And this is going to sound corny, but who cares? At the end, what matters is just the time you spend with the people you love, and you just need to remember that. I’m not going to remember the fucking…. I mean, maybe I will, but I’m not going to remember the Chet Hanks episode when I’m on my deathbed, but I’ll remember hanging out with my grandkids. For me, it’s a matter of challenging myself and devoting myself to something and being driven and feeling like I’m taking life seriously, but it’s not as important as your family.

Is there anything that you’re obsessed with apart from your work? Like sports?

Yeah, I watch soccer. I’m obsessed with this team, Arsenal. It’s really embarrassing. Being an American soccer fan is just one of the lamest kind of guys you could be. It’s just this being like a Ted Lasso loser.

How many hours per week, Monday through Sunday, do you dedicate to it?

That’s kind of what I’m thinking about at night. It’s so pathetic how much…. I’m not even from England. That’s kind of how I unwind. I have this one guy that knows as much as me, and we yell at each other on the phone. This guy, Sam. And I scream. We scream at each other on the phone.

And are there any other sports teams you’re into?

Yeah, I just know everything. It’s like astrology for boys. It’s a way that I can meet some guy I’ve never met. If I’m on a double date with one of my wife’s friends, you’re basically on a date with the other guy. They’re talking and then you’re sitting there with some guy. And if they can’t talk about sports, then I’m just done. On the car ride home, I’m like, “Well, thanks a lot for nothing. I don’t know what this guy does with his time.”

Have you had any learning moments on the show?

I probably have had a lot, but I don’t…. Do you do that? You’re like, “I had a learning moment?”

I mean, maybe because I’m in therapy too often.

Are you overly therapized?

Definitely.

Yeah. I’ve done a good amount myself. I haven’t in a while, but I find that at a certain point, if your life is medium or regular, it could oftentimes prompt one to navel gaze, perhaps, or kind of ruminate more. My new mantra is just That’s some shit. I feel like I’m saying this and something terrible is going to happen, I’m going to start therapy next week. But I think I’m equipped enough as an adult to navigate. Shit happens, and I feel like I’ve been equipped enough as an adult to navigate those things. But I will say in various other moments—I lost my mother—[therapy has] been like a godsend. It’s been so helpful.

Therapy was good for that?

Incredibly good for the other difficult moments that have happened. I mean, he told me in the first session I had, he said, “You’re the smartest man I’ve ever met.” He said, “You should be the teacher.” I said, “I’m here to learn, sir. Okay?”

That did not happen.

Yes, it did. Put it in your column. Because if there’s anything that I take seriously, it’s being honest to Gentlemen’s Quarterly.

Okay. So generally, you prefer not to be introspective, because that can mess with the creative process?

No, it’s not about introspection. You should definitely be introspective. I think that one should trust themself to say that I’m capable of navigating whatever crap happened, the bumps along the way. I don’t think it’s good to just fixate on oneself.

It sounds like you’re just accepting this as a cosmic joke, embracing it, and being grateful for it.

It’s not a cosmic joke, because I’ve found that I actually may have some sort of, I don’t know, some modicum of talent. I didn’t think I did before, I would say that.

At what point did you change your mind about that?

I don’t know. When I decided I was going to try at being a talk show host, I think that something just came over me. I think I’ve said this before a million times, but it’s really scary to try at anything, because if you try as hard as you can and someone’s like, “That stinks,” you’re like, “Hey, man, I tried as hard as I can.”

In the old podcast we used to do, we trafficked in irony. So the conceit was like, “Hey, it sucks, but that’s because we’re not trying. And if you’re listening, fuck you.” But really that’s kind of like you insulate your feelings. I’m cutting myself off, but it’s like when you see Susan Boyle on Britain’s Got Talent; the reason it makes you cry is because she’s singing as hard as she can. You want her to do good because everyone laughed at her. And then she sings Les Mis perfect.

So that’s what I’m describing. It’s really scary to do that. And I think it took me until 35 to do that for the first time. And then I’ve gained a tremendous amount of purpose and direction, and it makes me feel great that I didn’t know that I could do. I’m not even that good. I want to get better. But I know that I’ve worked really hard at something, and I think I’ve gotten better, hopefully, and I want to keep getting better. It’s just as simple as that.

A version of this story originally appeared in the October 2026 issue of GQ with the title “Routine Excellence with Talk Show Host Adam Friedland.”