When Owen Painter joins our Zoom call from a coffee shop in LA, he’s wearing a white T-shirt, a brown cap with dark curly locks coming out of it, and the kind of humble worry that makes you want to reassure him immediately. “I’m sorry, there’s all this stuff going on in my apartment, so I couldn’t really be there. Hopefully the noise isn’t too bad,” he offers, sheepishly looking around, wired headphones dangling. Painter is the kind of actor who apologizes for things he absolutely doesn’t need to—background noise, his thoughtful answers, or the fact that his upcoming role in Wednesday Season 2 is, at the time of our interview, so top secret he can barely say anything about it. What he can say? “It’s a creature part. There’s a lot of prosthetics involved,” he teases. “I think it took 10 hours to get into makeup before we started shooting.” Classic old Hollywood horror—the time when actors like Boris Karloff (Frankenstein) and Lon Chaney (The Phantom of the Opera, The Hunchback of Notre Dame) rose to fame through eerie performances in silent and early sound classics, exactly the films Painter watched to get inspired. It makes sense, given Jenna Ortega’s promise that Season 2 is ditching teen love triangles in favor of more horror.

Viewers who’ve already streamed both parts on Netflix will recognize Painter as Slurp, the zombie brought back to life in the season premiere when Pugsley Addams (Isaac Ordonez) discovers his newfound electrical powers. Feeding on human brains to regenerate, Slurp eventually evolves into his true identity: Isaac Night. Formerly Gomez Addams’ (Luis Guzmán) roommate, Tyler Galpin’s (Hunter Doohan) uncle, and, in a final twist (spoilers ahead), the original owner of the severed hand now known as Thing—fittingly, “Night” itself being an anagram of the word.

Before leaving to Dublin for filming, Painter was driving trucks for commercial shoots and delivering Uber Eats to make ends meet. He graduated into the chaos of the COVID-era, a world that felt like it was ending: lockdowns, mass protests, and gas station strangers side-eyeing you for wearing a mask. “It was really intense. My mind wasn’t on acting at all,” he recalls. “It was all really digital and kind of isolating.” Somewhere between doing self-tapes from his parents’ house and rogue road trips, Painter got an email that would change everything: a self-tape audition prompt with no dialogue. You’ve been asleep for a thousand years, you can’t speak, and there’s a glass of water across the room that can restore your voice—just a few obstacles in the way. “I spent a couple of hours flopping around on the ground, doing Charlie Chaplin jokes and having as much fun as I possibly could for my own sake,” he laughs. “It was weeks until I heard anything back. I kept thinking about it because it reignited a playfulness and a joy that is easy to lose.”

That tape landed him a three-minute Zoom callback with Wednesday producers, including Tim Burton and Jenna Ortega. He was convinced it went horribly. It did not. “I was in this cafe, actually, when I got the call. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I was in the rain, making a scene, yelling. All these people were looking at me through the glass. Then I got in my car and drove in circles around LA for hours and didn’t tell a soul.” Working with Burton, he says, felt like “running around with a Super 8 camera. His energy is so infectious.” He recalls Burton reordering full shooting days just because a joke was funny. “He’s such an expert at what he does that by this point, it’s almost like oxygen to him. He’s also really funny and rockstar-level cool.”

If Burton is a rockstar, Ortega might be a savant. “She’s got an Einstein IQ,” Painter says reverently. “Her capacity is incredible. She’s kind to everybody and gave me a lot of advice. Not that she’s in the business of giving advice. She knows everyone’s job and how to make it easier for them. There’d be times where she would, quickly in between shooting, tell me about a mark I didn’t even know existed, just because I’m so green.” For a self-described introvert who tried every sport and hated most of them, the communal magic of a film set—first felt during a high school musical he joined with a broken leg—is what drew him in. That, and maybe a little bit of escapism. “I got obsessed,” he shrugs. “I’d go home after rehearsal and watch three movies instead of doing homework.” 

So, what’s next for the creature of Netflix’s most haunted campus? “I don’t know yet,” he says with a grin. “Probably going home to Connecticut for a while. Taking it easy and spending some time with my family.” Whatever comes next, one thing’s clear: this is only the beginning for Painter.

This story appears in the pages of VMAN 55: now available for purchase!

Photography Isaac Anthony 

Fashion Arut Arustamyan

Editor Charles Kolbrener

Grooming Peter Gray (Home Agency) using Oway USA

Location WSA Studio

Photo Assistants Isaac Schell, Anthony Lorelli

Fashion Assistants Abel Martirosyan, Erika Bennett, Adlet Bermukhamedov