Damon may be the least-debated pick in GQ Men of the Year history—he’s still riding the billion-dollar wave of The Odyssey, one of the great cinematic accomplishments this century. Damon was also, by some distance, the most unbothered man on that desert set, and all while being the only one wearing heavenly black tailoring (a peak-lapel Norton & Sons jacket, and glorious mohair Celine pants). Three decades into being a film star, Damon has familiarity with endurance, both creative and literal.
In his cover story, he walks our Frazier Tharpe through the physical cost of making Christopher Nolan’s epic, up to and including a night in Scotland on which he didn’t sleep at all. The piece is a portrait of a movie star who still treats the job as a job, most of all when it is inconvenient, unfair, or uncomfortable. Discomfort has been something of a theme for me this year.
I will confess that I knew 2026 would be an administrative ordeal from the moment I accepted this new role at GQ. There was a move from London to New York (including a cat, whose opinion was not consulted). There was a home to find.
And there was the discovery that the land of the free has impressive disdain for a grown man with no credit score. None of it was enjoyable. All of it, I think, is good for me.
I have the good fortune to work with many brilliant editors and writers. A recurring note I like to give is: Where is the tension? Without tension, there’s no story.
I am not a confrontational person, but I find confrontation on the page irresistible. I want you to stumble, in every issue of GQ, onto something uncomfortable, or uncomfortably new. A magazine that agrees with you from cover to cover is a magazine that you have already read.
Extract — continue reading at the source.
