Elisabeth Moss on That Final Monologue

SPOILER ALERT: This story contains spoilers for the series finale of “The Handmaid’s Tale,” now streaming on Hulu.

“The Handmaid’s Tale” ends as it began — and Elisabeth Moss couldn’t be happier with the choice.

In the final scene of its first episode, in 2017, the Handmaid known as Offred sits in the quarters provided to her by her captors, observing the things around her in an internal monologue: “A chair. A table. A lamp. And a window with white curtains.” The voiceover, delivered by Moss, concludes with a shock: “My name is June.” It’s a name that Offred is no longer allowed to use under Gilead’s theocracy — and one that she still uses to keep some essential part of herself whole.

In the series finale, June — now free to use her name — returns to the house where she’d been kept prisoner. It’s now in ruins, and June, seeing its destruction, can begin the work of writing her memoir: the book that will be known as “The Handmaid’s Tale.” The recording she makes in the series’ final moments begins: “A chair. A table. A lamp…” Her name, she tells us, is Offred. By recollecting her life as Offred, June Osborne is creating a document of the life she led, and a history that, she can only hope, won’t repeat itself.

Speaking on the Fox lot for a profile for one of Variety‘s Emmys extra editions — at the production office for her next show, “Imperfect Women” — Moss explains that what we’re hearing in that final scene is actually a blend: A newly performed version of the monologue overlaid with the version recorded almost a decade ago. Creating the subconscious cue to the pilot required precision, a challenge as Moss had put off preparing for the scene until about 10 minutes before. (Thankfully, the Hulu app on her phone let her remind herself of the cadence.)

This scene also features, in what may be a disappointment to many viewers, an imagined glimpse of Hannah, June’s daughter. The mother and daughter were separated before the action of the show begins, and the series ends without their reunion. June’s quest to save Hannah has been the narrative throughline of the show, but the 2019 publication of Margaret Atwood’s “The Testaments,” a sequel to the TV series’ source material in which Hannah features as a character, closed off that possibility. (An adaptation of “The Testaments,” with Moss as executive producer, is planned for Hulu; it’s being created by Bruce Miller, who created “The Handmaid’s Tale” and wrote the finale, which Moss directed.) “I want to say to every single person who says to me ‘Please tell me she gets her daughter back,’” Moss says, “like, I get what you’re feeling, but that doesn’t happen in Margaret’s sequel.“

“The Handmaid’s Tale” ends in an intriguingly ambivalent place: Gilead has not been toppled, but has been critically weakened, and June vows to continue fighting, and to speak out. She parts ways with her husband Luke (O-T Fagbenle), but not necessarily forever; she bids her former tormentor, Serena (Yvonne Strahovski), farewell by offering her forgiveness.

But it’s the callback to the show’s first season that will stick with viewers, not least because of an eerie real-world resonance. “The Handmaid’s Tale,” based though it was on Atwood’s novel from 1985 and echoing abuses against women throughout history, drew untold volumes of juice in its first season from streaming in the early months of the first Trump presidency. It was the show for the rageful, righteous months between the Women’s March and the #MeToo movement, and it drafted off the political energy in the air. In its first season, the show won best drama at the Emmys and Moss won best actress; landing now, after the overturning of Roe v. Wade and the Trump restoration, the show’s circling back to its origins once again proves the power of its timing.

And the ending represents a major transition for Moss, who is — having followed up her role on “Mad Men” with an award-winning, long-running and long-suffering performance — one of the defining TV stars of the streaming age. Here, she addresses all of the complexities and choices in Gilead’s endgame.

I want to talk about the tie back to the pilot in the final scene, with June narrating what she sees around her in what is now the ruined home of the Waterfords. Had that always been the plan?

I don’t know when Bruce came up with it — I haven’t asked him, which is kind of funny. I don’t think it was there from the very beginning. But I love this ending. As someone who has lived telling this story for nine years, I can’t imagine it ending any other way. When she starts to say “A chair, a table, a lamp”… That moment, for the audience, is something I crave. “Is that the original voiceover? Is that the way the book starts?” For me, that is television gold. I would never have said yes to anything that I did not feel was exactly the way that series should end. 

I’m sure that’s true.

It is. This whole series has always been about the same thing. It’s the same thing that I fell in love with in the first episode, and the reason I said yes to it, and it’s the same story we’re telling in the final scene. It’s about how this woman will never, ever give up fighting for her children. And she will never give up fighting for the next generation, and the generation to come. That has been her story from the beginning, and it’s her story in the final scene. The fact that what she starts with is what she ends with, to me, is so fucking genius. And I can say that, because it’s not my idea. To me, there is no better way to say what the show is than her telling her story.

It’s really hard to end a show. “Mad Men” did it perfectly—

Did you like the “Mad Men” ending?

Of course!

Me too.

I didn’t think that was controversial; I just thought it was beloved.

[pause] Good! [laughs]

Was it strange being back in that room? 

It was a very nice day, because we constructed it to make sure that it was a very nice day. Originally, on the schedule, we were doing more than that scene that day. And the DP cleared anything else off that day. That’s the only scene we’re shooting that day. Originally, it was later in the schedule, and we moved it up in the week, because I was like “I don’t want to be doing that on the last day. Oh, God, I’d rather kill myself.” 

I also closed the set. That was me as a director protecting myself as an actor. Because I knew that, ultimately, even though I’m directing that scene, the most important job I have that day is to play June and be in the moment and feel safe — not feel like there’s a bunch of people who came down from the production office to look because it’s super-exciting to watch someone film the last scene of a series. I totally get that, but I was like, I can’t have that. 

So it didn’t feel surreal, because it felt very calm, and it felt very natural. Everyone, I could tell, was working so hard. The dolly grip was making sure it was the best shot. Everyone was super-precious about the lighting and the set — being very particular about everything. It didn’t feel surreal to be in the space. It just felt like I can’t believe we’re doing this right now. But you can’t think like that.

Because you actually have to be playing June, not “Elisabeth, who’s excited.”

Exactly. The other thing I’ll tell you is that 10 minutes before we shot it, I realized that I had to memorize the speech, which I hadn’t done yet. Then I also realized I had to memorize it in the cadence of the original voiceover. And if I want to put the original voiceover from episode one in my mouth in post, I have to say it the way I said it. 

Otherwise, there would be a gap…

…and it would not match. So I got Hulu up on my phone — okay, $17.99, no ads — shit, it’s getting really pricey over there. And I pulled Episode 1, went to the end, and just listened to it over and over for 10 minutes, memorized the cadence, and luckily, got it right. There’s one moment we had to finesse with ADR. But I think you feel it subconsciously — the meta nature of it, you just kind of feel. Especially when she says “My name is Offred”: That one’s creepy.

I found it oddly heartening that Gilead doesn’t once and for all burn to the ground in this episode — that June is committed to a fight that will wear on across various fronts. It felt less fantastical and more a gesture toward how political change really happens over long periods of time.

It would be unrealistic if somehow June, in one episode, was able to topple this evil empire. The fact is that this war is won battle by battle, book by book, protest by protest. That is the truth. And so it gives us hope for our future. 

I will admit that part of me really did expect a reunion between June and Hannah.

Talk to Margaret Atwood. It definitely is something we have carried with us since “The Testaments” came out, knowing that wasn’t going to be an ending. That was a choice that Margaret made that we, of course, followed, and I don’t know if we would have done it if she hadn’t written “The Testaments.” I really have no idea, but I can’t imagine it any other way. I think if there was no “Testaments,” this would be a very different experience for me. 

Our challenge was to be loyal to what Margaret decided to do, but at the same time honor Hannah’s presence. There is literally no one more aware of the audience’s desire for June to get Hannah back than me. It is the number one question I’m asked. It is the number one thing people want. I don’t want to call it a burden, but I’ve carried this question with me for many years. And I want to say to every single person who says to me “Please tell me she gets her daughter back,” like, I get what you’re feeling, but that doesn’t happen in Margaret’s sequel. 

So the next logical step, being aware that our audience was going to be disappointed, possibly, or surprised, was to bring Hannah in. We made sure of that all season long, up to the final scene where we put Hannah in the room. 

Speaking of “The Testaments” reminds me of Aunt Lydia. It’s interesting that she seems to have a change of heart and starts helping Handmaids to freedom, but it’s rooted, still, in these immutable religious beliefs that haven’t shifted.

What she believes, if you were to boil it down to something way oversimplified, is that she loves her girls and she wants the best life for them. I’m not excusing the terrible things she did. And now she’s seeing that these people that she thought she could hitch her wagon to are doing terrible things to our girls. That breaks down all of the things that she thought were true. Those guys aren’t doing it right, so I’m going to need to take over and do it my way. But she’s smart, because she’s doing it from the inside, which June always believed was the right thing to do. That’s why June never left. June, notoriously, didn’t leave Gilead at the end of Season 3. Because what are you going to do, file paperwork from Canada for the rest of your life? You’ve got to be on the inside; you’ve got to fight. 

June’s best and worst quality is her ability to believe that people will change and that they will do the right thing. Sometimes she’s right and sometimes she’s wrong, but she will never give up on Lydia. I love the final moment between them, because I did this thing where I stopped and looked back at her again, and that was purely for “The Testaments.” 

June makes the choice to tell Serena she forgives her. What was it like to play that scene? 

It was probably the most difficult scene, because — how do you do it? After all these years, how do you do it? She knows that it’s more important for Serena to hear it than it is for June to not do it. And that’s the choice June makes. I don’t know if she really does forgive her for everything, but it kind of doesn’t matter.

She needs to set Serena free.

And that’s the gift that June is capable of giving her. And I think it’s good for June, too, to be able to give that to her and to let that go. And — this was just a stupid practical thing — but it was snowing when we shot her side, a fucking blizzard, and when we shot my side, clear as day. So I was dealing with that as a director, we got the snow machine in and got the perfect amount of snow in the shot. And I have to say the lines and not have it all land on my face. 

I thought the way June left another character, Luke, was interesting, too; it was less a “goodbye” than a “see you later.” 

That’s exactly what we wanted. We didn’t want to answer it. For so many years, I’ve been asked “Team Nick or Team Luke?” And what I’ve wanted to say and haven’t been able to say until now is that she’s not going to choose either. Her journey is not about that. That was really important to me. O-T and I had the idea to play the second half of that scene almost like they just met. The two of them have to start over in this new place they’re in. I love the optimism of it — that they might meet up in New York or Chicago, might have a drink. But the ending isn’t that she chose Luke, and that was important to me. 

The other side of the coin is Nick. Max Minghella told me that you revealed his massive heel turn well ahead of Season 6 shooting.

The surprise is what we wanted. But the thing Max and I talked about was setting it up properly. If we were going to do it — not just killing him, but him going to the dark side — we had to do it right. It couldn’t be zero to 60. We had to set it up from the beginning. From Episode 1, every single scene of his is set up to get him to the place where he decides to tell Wharton about Mayday. 

There’s a very strong Team Luke contingent, but it’s my understanding that Team Nick is definitely very strong as well. And that’s because an unrequited love story is the best one. That’s way more interesting than the solid marriage. But we knew that we had to take an entire faction of people and convince them that she should not be with this person. 

It’s notable that in his final moments of life, before the plane he’s on blows up, he’s asking about June. He does still care.

It’s so important for us not to have black and white villains on the show — or black and white heroes. I personally think people can change, and that happens choice by choice. These two men [Nick and Bradley Whitford’s Commander Lawrence] get on the plane; one of them has decided to do the wrong thing, and one of them has decided to do the right thing. Both decisions put them on the plane. 

In the penultimate episode, when your character, from the gallows, shouts “Don’t let the bastards grind you down,” a phrase that’s become so associated with the show. How did that feel?

It’s one of those moments where you have to get over a bit of stage fright. It’s not the easiest thing to stand in the middle of a square in Cambridge and scream at the top of your lungs. It ultimately came down to, I can’t see anything else but the camera, because it’s so close. And I had the extras removed, and then there wasn’t a bunch of people staring at me. And it’s just me and the camera. That’s the only way I can do it — otherwise I’d honestly be a bit embarrassed. 

The camera was so close — it’s the “Handmaid’s” way. If you don’t hit your head on it, it’s not close enough. But I was very focused on the technicalities of stuff. The way that I direct when I’m acting is — it’s like I split myself, and half of me is doing it and half of me is watching. The only way I could do it was just to, on the one hand, think about the technical side of it, and on the other hand, just go for it. 

This interview has been edited and condensed.