Aubrey Plaza’s Exquisite Vulnerability: How Grief Became Her Most Powerful Accessory
In the hallowed halls of Hollywood, where vulnerability is often masked by designer armor and carefully curated personas, Aubrey Plaza has emerged as an unlikely beacon of raw authenticity. The White Lotus luminary, known for her razor-sharp wit and magnetic screen presence, has peeled back the layers of celebrity veneer to offer something infinitely more precious: truth.
Speaking candidly on Amy Poehler’s intimate podcast Good Hang, Plaza addressed the seismic shift in her world following the tragic loss of her husband, Jeff Baena, who died by suicide in January at the age of 47. The conversation, between two women who’ve shared both professional triumph and personal solidarity since their Parks and Recreation days, unfolds like a masterclass in human resilience dressed in the most elegant of emotional couture.
“In this very, very present moment, I feel happy to be with you,” Plaza confided to Poehler, her words carrying the weight of someone who has learned to find pockets of light in an otherwise consuming darkness. “I’m here and I’m functioning. I feel really grateful to be moving through the world. I think I’m okay, but it’s like a daily struggle, obviously.”
The grace with which Plaza navigates this conversation feels almost choreographed, yet utterly genuine—like watching someone perform the most difficult dance of their life with enviable poise. Her honesty becomes its own form of luxury, more valuable than any couture gown or diamond tiara.
Baena, a creative force who co-wrote the cult classic I Heart Huckabees in 2004, was more than Plaza’s life partner—he was her artistic collaborator, their creative union producing works like the horror-comedy Life After Beth, the comedy series Cinema Toast, and the film Spin Me Round. Their relationship, which began in 2011 and culminated in marriage (revealed through social media in 2021), represented the kind of behind-the-scenes Hollywood love story that fashion magazines dream of chronicling.
But it’s Plaza’s metaphorical approach to grief that reveals the true sophistication of her emotional intelligence. Drawing parallels to the recent film The Gorge, starring Miles Teller and Anya Taylor-Joy, she describes her internal landscape with the precision of a poet and the visual acuity of a filmmaker.
“I swear when I watched it, I was like that feels like what my grief is like,” she explained, referencing the movie’s premise of characters trapped between cliffs with a monster-filled gorge between them. “It’s like a giant ocean of awfulness, that’s like right there and I can see it. Sometimes I just want to dive into it and just like be in it. Then sometimes I just look at it, and sometimes I try to get away from it. But, it’s always there.”
This articulation of grief—as something omnipresent yet navigable—speaks to a woman who has learned to coexist with the unthinkable. Like the most exquisite haute couture piece, her words are both beautiful and functional, serving to clothe her pain in language that others might find wearable in their own moments of loss.
Plaza’s appearance on the podcast represents more than mere celebrity disclosure; it’s a masterclass in how public figures can use their platforms to normalize conversations around mental health and suicide. Her willingness to be photographed, so to speak, in her most vulnerable state, transforms personal tragedy into collective healing.
In an industry that often demands performance even in private moments, Plaza’s authentic presence feels revolutionary. She’s not selling us a comeback narrative or a redemption arc—she’s simply showing us what it looks like to continue existing when existence feels impossible. That, perhaps, is the most fashionable statement of all.
