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Maddie Salters interviews Jayne Hong and Harry Lloyd about their new web series, Supreme Tweeter.

In a satirically self-effacing look at the strange (and sometimes unsavoury) connectivity of Twitterverse, Harry Lloyd and Jayne Hong‘s new production, Supreme Tweeter, has hit the world wide web at a sprint. Boiling the internet down to its bones in twenty minutes of brisk and effortless humour, they’ve created an inside look at what celebrity means in the 21st century, crafting a tale both caustic and charming. I sat down with Jayne and Harry the night of Supreme Tweeter’s April 1st release to hear about their creative process, and the film’s eccentric milieu of London daily life, North Korean diplomacy, and Photoshop.

The tell-tale buzzing of my mobile lets me know that I have an unread text.

My curiosity doesn’t have to wait long to be gratified, and after a few clicks and swipes I’m engaged in an on-the-go conversation with a friend a continent away, who is commenting on the elderly couple at the table across from her at Starbucks, busily engaged in the business of ignoring one another for their iPhones.

They’re so old – It’s strange to see! She insists.

Yet, the blissful incongruity of a generation born before colour television energetically checking Facebook, uploading to Instagram, and following Cher on Twitter is becoming commonplace.

This is the premise for Supreme Tweeter: a mockumentary documenting Lloyd’s life after the actor’s gory departure from Game of Thrones, where a downhill career of botched auditions and empty PET bottles is revitalised overnight by his foray into Twitter, when he is followed by North Korean leader Kim Jong Un. Achieving instantaneous celebrity after Kim’s endorsement of Lloyd’s Game of Thrones character, Viserys Targaryen, as the one true tyrant King of fictional Westeros, the ensuing narrative of crafting a social media persona, counting clicks, coveting numbers, and catering to a friendship built on revisionist fanfiction and internet memes is one we can all recognise. Fast-paced and hilarious, Supreme Tweeter brings modern social dynamics crashing to the forefront, making viewers laugh and cringe in equal measure.

So, why is gran lost on her mobile?

“It links to addiction, that need for attention. See how many people have retweeted you: that number can feel so good.” Harry Lloyd points out about the social media giant, which he has just recently joined.

However, he is far from being as obsessive as his character in Supreme Tweeter. Quite the opposite, Harry is unsurprisingly down-to-earth, citing his age (not-remotely-old) as a reason for being largely unable to relate. Much like any throughly regular Londoner, he bafflingly sports a T-shirt despite the chill, is having his dinner late, and believes in the inspirational properties of tea. Unlike any throughly regular Londoner, this bears reporting on, in what gets called a “juicy tidbit” of personal life at the table- the type that is so often flung across ‘web space’ on social media, and consumed as a commodity in the search for connectedness.

The idea for Supreme Tweeter was born from a (literal) dream co-writer and producer Jayne Hong had, which became a labour of love for the writing and directing duo, and the entire production team. As a result of its being filmed in London, the series integrated itself into the common scenery of London life, despite Jayne being a vivacious Chicagoan who resists saying the word “flat” and (rightfully) doesn’t understand her team’s fascination with Monster Munch. The whirlwind production, which was shot over 11 days and edited up to the last minute, is the sort of thing creatives love to do and so rarely have the time for. But when Production Designer Jordan Lloyd joins us, it’s clear that everyone on board for Supreme Tweeter was gung-ho devoted: down to recreating the perfect Targaryen ‘do for Kim Jong Un’s internet meme.

So, what makes the production a small slice of London life?

The sets bear snippets of the every day: London flats with ubiquitous paper lanterns, the insides of local cafes, and Barclay’s bicycle chases. The action is played out across all the most familiar backdrops of the city, showing how bizarre the divide between glamorous media persona and the other side of the @ handle can be.

As if to highlight the point, when I ask about the wardrobe, Lloyd retorts, “There’s a reason there’s no costuming credit.”

“Every day, I asked what he wanted to wear for filming, and every day, he’d say ‘My I love bacon T-shirt.'” Jayne divulges.

“Continuity!” Jordan agrees.

Though the ‘I love bacon’ T-shirt does in fact make a cameo, the more impressive guest spots are by George R.R. Martin and Maise Williams. Their roles are similarly quirky, fun, and add a burst of colour to the script, which is largely a one-man-meets-world balancing act.

Sitting with Harry and Jayne, my list of questions grew thin, and began to even feel silly in light of the medium. After all, these must be enquiries they’ve received ad nauseam- “Dream Role?” gets answered with Hamlet by Lloyd, but in the way that one answers what a favourite dessert might be. Everyone loves tiramisu, but is it really better than crème brûlée? Depends on which day you ask.

However, at the end of our chat, there is one thing that really bears knowing:

If one world leader could follow you, alive or dead, who would you want it to be?

Harry’s lineup is Abraham Lincoln, Winston Churchill, or Genghis Khan. (Hashtag #YesWeKhan?)

As for Jayne:

“Bill Clinton. Or Hillary. Both.”

@Billary: You heard the suggestion here first, Democrats.

The web series is almost clinically funny, preciously unpretentious, and frustratingly short. Broken into three episodic vignettes, you can check it out for yourself at the Supreme Tweeter webpage.

Or, help wake the dragon by following Harry Lloyd and Jayne Hong on Twitter @HarryLloyd and @JayneHong.