Tommy Dorfman Isn’t Looking at the Other Horses
Sobriety, directing, Good Girl, and the peace of minding your own business.
I met Tommy Dorfman in the fall of 2024. She was in the Broadway production of Romeo + Juliet, and I’d been hired to shoot portraits of her for a magazine. I was led into her dressing room by a gaggle of publicists and stage managers who briefed me on how little time we had, and reminded me not to linger.
As as I walked in, the sound of publicists and stage managers was cut short by Tommy pulling the door shut behind me. Tommy spoke to me with such ease that it made me nervous, like I was back talking to my crush in middle school. We shot a roll of film, and I left hoping I’d made a new friend.
About a year later, her memoir, Maybe This Will Save Me, came out. Newly sober at the time, I read it in my Edinburgh Airbnb while visiting for the Fringe Festival. I was shook by how much felt familiar. Both from the South. Both drawn early toward softness, and femininity. Both desperate to be older — to get through the part of life where you aren’t in full control yet.
These days, Tommy is spending most of her time in Toronto, where she’s building her production company, Good Girl. We met up in Dimes Square to talk sobriety, directing, love, and the internet.
Reading your book created a unique imbalance: I suddenly knew so much more about you than you knew about me. What’s it like when people arrive with that kind of one-sided intimacy?
Fine, because it’s so niche. The people who read the book are the people who are supposed to find the book.
What’s your elevator pitch for what sobriety gives you?
At this point, thirteen years in: vanity.
But in general, I like being able to make decisions, escape places, and be aware. All of that stuff I perhaps wasn’t interested in before, I really appreciate now. I’d be scared to lose it or give it up.
What has surprised you most?
That I get to keep doing what I love doing. Between jobs, I’m always like, “I’m never going to get to do this again.” So every time I get to keep doing it, that’s the surprise.
And in my life: falling in love. Every time I’ve fallen in love and gone through a breakup, I’m like, “Never again. The cards are played.” And then it happens again in a new way.
Tell me about what you’re doing with Good Girl.
The Substack is a space for free-form, low-stakes fun — to think, collaborate with friends, build community, and engage with people on a shorter lead time.
Good Girl, the production company, is different. Projects take years. We’re a development and production company, so we develop projects with talent, writers, directors, actors, and sometimes myself. It’s more than a nine-to-five, but it’s really fulfilling.
What’s been your favorite part of directing?
I’m a deeply collaborative person by nature, so my favorite part is working with a team of 100 or 200 people and bringing something to life collectively.
I find it really exciting and engaging. It keeps me focused. I appreciate the lifestyle of directing. When I’m on set or in prep or post, it simplifies my life. It gives me a place to go, things to be responsible for, and an outlet for my creative vision that I couldn’t execute on my own.
It’s not a job you do in isolation.
Have you always known you were a collaborative person?
I’ve always been a person who feeds off other people’s energy, for better or worse. So in some ways, yes.
That said, I’m really discerning, so those things can be in conflict with each other. But I’m always interested in what other people have to say and what their ideas are. When I’m directing, it doesn’t mean those are always the ideas we go with, but there’s always room for that, or an adjustment of that.
Are you always working?
I’m always working. But I do give myself days off. At least, not every week, but I try.
What does a day off look like for you?
Just doing whatever I want to do. Spending a full day going back to bed multiple times. Bopping around town.
Is there a piece of advice or a mantra that has carried you through?
“You can’t run a horse race looking at other horses.” Keep looking forward. Focus. Stay in your lane.
The internet makes us believe we’re supposed to be in other people’s business all the time, and I don’t think that’s true.
Developed and scanned in partnership with Nice Film Club
One Hour Photo Creative Production: Carly Kane











