Sounds a bit familiar. After an amicable divorce from 30 Rock writer-producer Kay Cannon in 2010, he began dating Jones, the crystalline Mad Men goddess who contrasted piquantly with his regular-guyness and relatively low profile. The tabloids immediately went nuts, especially after the couple split and Jones became visibly enceinte. Bloggers Talmudically scrutinized a line he delivered while hosting this year’s MTV Movie Awards: “I have a lot of pressure on me, okay? I have ten minutes left in the show, I might be a dad soon …”
Sudeikis thought the joke was obviously a joke, a strategic deflation of the speculation about Jones’s baby, but the gossip-sphere interpreted it as breaking news. Sudeikis displays only muted horrror at the social-media locust swarm. “I mean, wow: It only takes a few minutes for a picture of your penis to change the world.” Trolls and tabloids have linked him with everyone from Scarlett Johansson to Eva Mendes—which could be considered a form of flattery. (He still gets mistaken for Ed Helms a lot, which goes a long way toward maintaining a sense of normality.)
Sudeikis makes no claims to grown-upness. He acknowledges that he’s come far since patrolling the Chicago comedy scene in a Chevy Montero borrowed from his famous uncle, George Wendt. But he feels that his Chi-town comedy cohorts—who include not only Cannon but also The Daily Show’s Dan Bakkedahl and 30 Rock’s Jon Lutz—have far outpaced him in life. “I’m 35,” he says, “and all of those guys are a lot more mature than me. They’re much more responsible. Leading grown-up lives. In a good way. Like, they’re always just smart, strong, and confident.” I ask Sudeikis if he doesn’t find himself smart, strong, and confident. “In moments,” he allows. “But never all three at the same time.”
There’s an audible crack—the sound of at least three zones getting chocked into alignment—and he emits an audible gasp. Maybe that’ll do it: smart, strong, confident, the trifecta. Otherwise, Jason Sudeikis will have to settle for famous, funny, and blog-certified fuckable. Either way, he’s going to be limping home.