
You spent your summer filming the new ‘‘Ghostbusters’’ movie in Boston. Do you believe in ghosts? Absolutely not.
Are you telling the truth? I am. I know many people in my life, whom I consider intelligent and credible, who say that they’ve seen them, and I don’t know what to make of that. I’m willing to be proved wrong — I’ve even stood in graveyards and said: ‘‘All right, show me if it’s real. Give me something.’’ Nothing has manifested yet.
Paul Feig, the director, got a lot of flak online for doing a remake with women. Guys were saying he ruined their childhoods. What are these grown men so worked up about? Probably something that has little to do with ‘‘Ghostbusters.’’ They should call their moms, work some stuff out.
You play a ‘‘crazy cat lady’’ on ‘‘Saturday Night Live,’’ but you have a cat named Nino Positano, and you recently did an elegant photo shoot for GQ surrounded by cats. Are you trying to break that cliché? No. It’s a cliché for a reason.
But it’s a cliché that’s pathetic. What’s not to love about a crazy cat lady? You have to be very giving to be a crazy cat lady.
I hear that you used to write young-adult books. What were they about? And did they ever get published? Where did you hear that? I ghostwrote them.
See, you do believe in ghosts. Did you learn anything from that experience? That I love silence. A day of silence. That was one of the happiest times.
What makes you laugh? Farting. Nothing makes me laugh more than farting. It’s such an insult that foul gas comes out of a hole in our butt with a sound to announce itself. It’s the ultimate bad thing about being a person.
You do a number of impressions of men: Justin Bieber, Robert Durst, Keith Urban and others. Do you find playing men more taxing or more liberating? More liberating. I hate the feeling of having hair on my neck. I don’t know how you have your hair down right now.
Your colleagues on the show say that with any impression, you are always the most stressed about making sure that it is not mean for no reason. Why? It’s a source of tremendous stress. You don’t want it to be toothless, because then it’s not funny. But I always try to make it empathetic. Particularly with Justin Bieber. I’m very worried about him being upset.
Why are you worried about that? I love him. I love them all. They’re like my children.
You’re an outspoken Hillary Clinton supporter, but your impression of her sort of dovetails with the haters’ assessment of Hillary: that she is pathologically ambitious and insincere. Do you fret about that? Um, yes. But it’s my job to make comedy out of current events. A good impression is sort of a juxtaposition of disparate elements. For instance, Angela Merkel, to me, is a very emotional German; she may not be in real life, but that’s how the writers and I conceived of the character. With Hillary, it’s that she’s a staunch, passionate lady, and in our culture, unfortunately, there’s something funny about that.
In order to nail an impression, do you have to share some of that person’s DNA? What part of Hillary Clinton is part of you? Yeah, what I find so lovable about her is her conviction. And I feel like I have that. I just love how badly she wants to fix stuff. I would like to do that. I’m just not smart enough.
Would a male politician be similarly mocked for his ambition? No, I don’t think so. If you had a man saying the same things, that would not qualify as a comedic character. I think that says more about our culture than it does about her.
When Tina Fey did Sarah Palin, she worried about having an effect on the election, pro or con. What do you worry about when you do Hillary? I unequivocally want her to win, and I don’t really think I have the power to sway anything.
Would you like to play Donald Trump? I would have a hard time.