While most of us were fussing over sourdough starters and futilely drafting lists of hobbies during the pandemic years, the comedian and filmmaker Matt Barats crossed most of the country and shot a movie entirely on his own. In Cash Cow, Barats stars as a fictionalized version of himself, an actor waiting on his Domino’s commercial to air while society shuts down and millions die from Covid. Increasingly untethered by his rapidly dematerializing opportunity for both a payday and industry exposure, Barats’s character starts filming a solo, no-budget documentary charting Joseph Smith and the Latter Day Saints’ westward trek from New York to Utah. As the real Barats and editor/producer Whit Conway hilariously chew through the knot of spirituality and enterprise at the heart of the world’s richest country, the fake Barats loses his mind in search of some shred of validation for his existence.
I spoke with Barats spoke about the film’s literal DIY production, as well as Mormon history, landscape documentaries, and what it’s like to impersonate yourself. Our conversation has been edited and condensed for length and clarity.
Patrick Dahl: I kept wondering while watching the film how much of the story and dialogue were scripted and how much of it you worked out yourself during shooting?
Matt Barats: I’ve been describing it as a third before, a third during, and a third after. The idea was pretty well thought through before I went out there by myself. I really had no idea what locations I would have access to or what anything would look like. So there's only so much you can plan. Every time I would go into a new location, like Vermont or upstate New York, I would scout out the area from my campsite and ask myself what I had access to and what I could cover on camera vs. taking care of later in voiceover. You probably noticed I was in the same outfit in several locations. It was because I had no idea what was going to be used. I was kind of shooting on impulse. When I got back to New York after shooting I remember thinking, What just happened? What did I get? I can’t believe I just did that.
PD: How much of the project was a reaction to the pandemic?
MB: I made a short that came out during the pandemic, that I’d shot in December of 2019. It’s kind of in the same style. I think a lot of people thought I’d shot [the short] during Covid because of the isolated style. So yeah I remember thinking during lockdown, Hey, this is a once-in-a-lifetime thing. How could I take advantage of the situation? When would I ever give myself the opportunity to just go away for a long period and make something? I happened to have a car because of the pandemic, and I didn’t really have a place [to stay] because of the pandemic, and that sweet unemployment was kind of like an artist’s grant for a lot of people. So it was an ideal time.
The Domino’s tie-in is real. I was in a Domino’s commercial pre-Covid that I thought was going to air. I was in a group chat with these two other commercial actors that were part of the same Domino’s campaign that we shot in Atlanta. At the time, I had just gotten a commercial agent because I heard you could make big money doing commercials. It was crazy getting these texts from other commercial actors wondering if our ads were going to play during the NBA playoffs while the news was announcing the death counts from Covid. The balance between those two things was what I wanted to look at in the film. The most pathetic thing in my life at the time was sitting around thinking, Boy, it sure would be nice if that Domino’s money came through.
PD: The film is really relaxed in the way it braids together miniature portraits of religion, fame, history, and capitalism without throttling audiences with obvious parallels.
MB: I shot it by myself, and it took a couple of years for me to put it together with Whit Conway, who was editor and producer. It was important to me that nothing felt like it was hitting audiences over the head, or that I was trying to map my life onto Joseph Smith’s.
PD: It’s a documentary of sorts, even if the character is fictionalized. You have lots of factual information about Mormonism throughout. It’s like a history podcast that accurately charts the evolution of the LDS faith, but you gracefully poke holes in the persona of the authoritative amateur historian content creator.
MB: I liked the idea that the character was very slowly unraveling in real time. I was like some sort of PBS documentarian with no funding, [who] for some reason was losing it. It was kind of actually happening to me. I feel that when I watch it now. It’s kind of a psychotic thing to go out and talk to yourself in the woods for so long. There was no one else there to ask if the take was OK. I second guessed everything until the end.
PD: How did you approach a character who was so closely based on you and your experience? How did it compare to approaching a fully fictional character?
MB: I was trying to embellish any sad and pathetic elements of my life. In that way it’s kind of spot-on. But I had to put on some light veil or character in order to perform the role. It’s about as close as I’m willing to get to playing myself.
PD: What instantly drew me to the film was the description of a one-man production. Filmmaking is so horribly expensive and bloated, so I was instantly rooting for a DIY movie. But then watching the movie I kept thinking, There’s no way this guy didn’t have a cinematographer. The images are gorgeous. Beautiful pictures of beautiful places that you leave onscreen long enough to encourage a contemplative response that is usually attached to more experimental work.
MB: That’s nice of you. I was super interested in niche documentarians while I was in college. When I graduated I thought Am I going to do documentaries or go into comedy? I moved to Chicago and did a lot of comedy. I love this style of documentary, but the film is like what if someone who’s been doing alt comedy for a very long time tries it. I was obsessed with Bill Brown when I was in college. He was it for me. I’ve always been fascinated by people out there making things by themselves. How are they doing it? What methods are they pulling out because of their limited resources? I wanted to do something that wasn’t quite like something I’ve seen in a comedy piece before.
PD: What’s your history with Mormonism?
MB: I grew up in Idaho, and about half my school was Mormon. Wouldn’t say I’m a huge fan. When I was living in Chicago, I read a book about the Mormon wars and realized Joseph Smith never made it to Utah because he died in Illinois. Years ago I visited some of these historical sites, and usually the people there would say “What are you doing here?” But I could say I was from Idaho and there would be no further questions. For the movie, many of the sites I visited wouldn’t have been accessible or usable if not for Covid. The dead isolation of these places during the pandemic meant no tourists in the background, no “man on the street” stuff. I was the only one there.
Sometimes you have something that you have to get off of your chest. Most people only know a few things about Mormonism, but Joseph Smith was one of the most fascinating figures in American history. I didn’t want to approach it like Isn’t this so insane? Can you believe how stupid this is? I thought of a more dry, modern take. My character is naïve, learning about this history as he’s reporting the facts, and the facts of the church will speak for themselves. Multiple tar-and-feathering episodes. Glorious.
Cash Cow has toured cinemas internationally and is now available to rent. Barats hosts Nippy November Nights at Union Hall Saturday, November 25.
