actor

SPOILER ALERT: The following article discusses plot details from Season 1, Episode 2 of “The Chair Company,” now streaming on HBO Max.

It’s not easy to upstage Tim Robinson. The comedian’s signature character is a man whose social unease leads him to act out in big, loud, obnoxious ways — like the hot dog guy from the sketch series “I Think You Should Leave,” or Marvel enthusiast Craig Waterman in the film “Friendship.” Ron Trosper, the protagonist of Robinson’s HBO conspiracy comedy “The Chair Company,” is no exception to this rule. But in Ron’s quest to find out what’s going on with Tecca, the namesake manufacturer of a faulty chair that leads the mall developer to take an embarrassing tumble in front of his colleagues, he encounters many characters who more than match his eccentricities. People like a certain shirt salesman who pitches Ron on his membership program.

In the second episode of “The Chair Company,” Ron visits the menswear shop Tamblay’s in an attempt to identify his assailant from the series premiere, who warned Ron to stop looking into Tecca before running off and leaving an article of clothing behind as a clue. The Tamblay’s proprietor agrees to help him out, confirming the shirt is one of theirs. The owner even models the item’s wear and tear using a ball he happens to have on hand: “It’s like a big belly and someone’s belly is pushin’ up into the buttons,” the man explains. “He’s about at his limit. I happen to know a guy who’s at his limit.” The emphases, cadence and delivery of this seemingly mundane dialogue combine to make the viewer sit up and ask themselves: Who is that?

The actor, it turns out, didn’t have to do much to get into character. Jared Lindner is the real-life co-proprietor of Suit Man, a small business located in the Westchester County suburb of Mount Vernon, New York. Lindner’s father founded the store nearly two decades ago, and the two still run Suit Man as a family operation. (You can learn more about the store in this video on the small city’s official YouTube channel.) Robinson himself took notice of Lindner when he swung by the store to scout the location. Lindner didn’t recognize the “Saturday Night Live” alum, but struck up a rapport with the crew: “They started to chuckle, because I’m a pretty easygoing, somewhat young guy,” Lindner tells Variety. The next thing he knew, the production was calling to offer him the part.

Lindner is patching into our interview directly from Suit Man, where the racks of shirts, ties and socks appear exactly as they do in “The Chair Company.” (During our conversation, Lindner walks around the store, iPhone in hand; at one point, a pair of hands appeared from offscreen to adjust his collar for the Zoom camera.) Lindner’s distinctive voice, a Christopher Walken-esque blend of New York accent, long vowels and soft tone, is also identical to the one that appears in the show. The only real difference is that the actual Lindner is wearing a baseball cap — and instead of helping Robinson’s protagonist with a mystery, he’s singing the praises of the real Robinson to a reporter.

“It’s unbelievable how good they are,” Lindner says of Robinson, his creative partner Zach Kanin and their collaborators. “They took someone who had no idea what to do and made me feel comfortable enough to not be nervous,” despite the dozens of crew members crowding into the Suit Man space. Lindner had never so much as read a script before making his acting debut on HBO, but credits Robinson and his team with making him feel at ease. 

“I think of it like sports,” Lindner says. “When a good team has a very good manager and head coach, they don’t need to yell. They don’t need to tell you what to do. They’re respected enough that everyone has the common goal to just get it done and make them happy.”

Director Andrew DeYoung first worked with Robinson on “Friendship” before coming aboard “The Chair Company” as an executive producer. Though the idea of casting Lindner came from Robinson, DeYoung didn’t require much persuasion. (HBO asked that Lindner at least read for the network before giving the green light, but he quickly came aboard.) “I was chatting with Jared and was like, ‘This guy is so unique and interesting,’” DeYoung recalls. “There’s something about him and his way of being that’s rare and captivating in the sweetest way possible. No one’s making fun of anybody at all, and I hope that’s clear.”

Though a total acting novice like Lindner is an extreme example of its casting strategy, “The Chair Company” generally avoided big names and recognizable faces when populating its strange, extreme world. Besides Robinson, Lake Bell and Sophia Lillis — who play Ron’s wife and daughter, respectively — are probably the best-known series regulars. Everyone else is much less likely to come with pre-existing associations for the audience, which is precisely the point.

“There’s an excitement when you don’t have the baggage of somebody that you know,” DeYoung explains. “There are so many brilliant people out there that are trying to be performers — or, in Jared’s case, not — who show up and electrify the screen because they bring something special and unique.” That’s what appeals to him, Robinson and Kanin about figures like Lindner, who can make such an impression in such a short span of time. “What’s beautiful about Tim and Zach [is], even if a character has one line, they feel incredibly rich,” DeYoung says. “That, to me, is so exciting. When you have those specificities, a character shows up and you’re like, ‘I would like to follow them.’ It feels like we’re living in a world that goes beyond the screen.” As “The Chair Company” works to build an entire immersive universe where Ron’s paranoid logic makes a certain kind of sense, it’s helpful to cast figures like Lindner who carry an ingrained sense of authenticity.

Suit Man may not have a membership program like Tamblay’s, or an accompanying group chat with five separate guys named Ron in it. But Lindner stresses that he always strives for recurring business. “I always say when a gentleman comes in to see me, I don’t want to sell them one sweater and then never see them again,” he says. “I’d rather sell them a sweater for their wedding, and then their son’s christening, and their other daughter’s baptism, or whatever it is. We’ve made lifelong friends. They’re not even customers.” Even though Lindner says he’s open to acting again after having such a good experience with “The Chair Company,” he’s not abandoning his day job.

When we spoke, Lindner hadn’t yet gotten the chance to watch his own performance, though he has gone back and watched Robinson’s Comedy Central series “Detroiters” to get a sense of what he might expect from the final product. The prospect of introducing himself to a mass audience is the first time in our conversation where even a hint of actorly self-consciousness comes up. “I hope I don’t make a fool out of myself in front of my wife,” Lindner says. “Everybody told me that I did okay, but I guess I’ll have to see for myself on Sunday.”