GQ: Schitt’s Creek premiered in 2015. That’s a fairly long time ago—but even after five seasons, it feels like the show is still picking up steam. Season five earned Schitt’s Creek’s best-ever reviews and its first Emmy nominations. As someone on the inside, do you have a sense of why and how the show keeps growing every year?
Dan Levy: I don't know how it happened. I think inherently, the structure of the show always lent itself to: the more you watch, the more you'll care. It was always our intention that you grow along with the family. That the first season presents people in a very superficial light—and season after season, if we were given the opportunity, we would peel back the layers on these people.
By the end of season two, we had the first time [the Rose family says] "I love you" to each other in the barn—which was really the potential end of the series. And also the beginning. You can't just turn people on a dime. The show itself was a slow burn, and fortunately we had the sort of runway to let it breathe and let the audience grow. It took 26 episodes to earn that.
As a creator, writer, director, and star on Schitt’s Creek, what has it been like living through a year that’s essentially a series of professional goodbyes?
We had to say so many goodbyes. We said goodbye to our sets. We said goodbye to certain characters that didn't come with us on location. It was just a lot of goodbyes. It did get to a point where I had to tell the team, "We can't be acknowledging all the lasts, because it's going to ruin me." We can't say, "Well, this is the last time Dan picks up a pen," because I'll cry, and I don't want to cry over having picked up a pen. It's not worth the tears.
I obviously don’t want you to spoil anything—but on a personal level, how was the last day of shooting?
It was really, really hard. The last day of shooting was the most emotional day I think I've ever had in my life. I cried for, I want to say, five straight hours, to the point where I had a splitting headache and didn't know what to do with my life. I wept when I took David's shoes off. I will never wear those shoes again—nor do I want to—but I was very sad to take them off.
Jacket, $1,790, by Givenchy / Shirt, $325, by David Hart / Pants, $995, by Givenchy / Bow Tie, $105, by Eton / Sunglasses, $625, by Jacques Marie Mage/ Cufflinks, $3,400, by Tiffany & Co.
Suit, $1,950, by David Hart / Shirt, $750, by Brioni / Tie, $225, by Isaia / Shoes, $90, by Stacy Adams / Sunglasses, his own, by Gucci
As you’ve gone through the process of writing and shooting and editing the final season over the past year, have you ever thought, Shit, I wish we had a season seven after all?
No. I wasn't ready to go, but the story was set up to be finished. I wish there was more story to tell, because I would love to do this forever—but respecting the characters and respecting the quality of the storytelling, it just felt like, "This is it." I had intended to end it in season five, and then we got picked up for two seasons. And I thought, Okay, well…now I can spend 28 episodes instead of 14 building the last couple chapters of this series. The minute I knew that was the minute I started writing to the end.
So it was a very simple choice that I made. But one that I had no idea would affect a kind of ripple. That people would respond in the way that they have. I've had letters from people who found the show while they were contemplating suicide. I've had people who were kicked out of their homes because they were queer, and the show was a family for them when they didn't have one. There were people whose parents watched the show and changed their understanding or perception of who their children were because they saw parents on the show accepting their kids—and as a result, they accepted their children. You really don't expect that when you go set out to write a comedy.
