Anna Faris: Do I Look Funny?

Faris didn't whine about the plot's redirection. ''I hadn't opened a movie yet,'' she says. ''My idea was not a sell, so I was on board.'' Still, her newly sunny House Bunny character occasionally scraped at her nerves. ''There were definitely days when I was like, 'Man, she makes me crazy, she's so sweet and optimistic.'''

The success of the movie, which took in $48 million, propelled Faris into the constantly shifting ranks of women who can sell tickets. Now she wants to capitalize on the momentum and star in female-driven comedies, ones with parts for underused friends of hers like the stand-up comedian Dana Goodman (who played a butch sorority sister in The House Bunny). ''Boys get away with that stuff all the time. Nobody says, 'Why would you cast your friend?' That'd be amazing to have the power to cast exactly the people you want to work with.'' Currently, she's developing an idea about a drunk nanny (''Obviously, the rule is she can't hurt any of the children''), as well as a semiautobiographical divorcée project tentatively called Girl Gone Wild.

In 2007, Faris and her then husband, actor Ben Indra, endured a sad and messy split. ''Next thing you know, I'm living in an apartment with potato chips and mustard and tons of beer,'' she says. ''I wore this grubby Garfield T-shirt and these baggy jeans all the time. Personal hygiene? Nah. I would talk to my cat and say to her, 'Oh, honey, tell me about it. I just don't give a f---.' I was drunk all the time. I would go to bars alone. Maybe I was giving off a weirdly aggressive vibe, which is why I couldn't get anyone to have sex with me. I would talk to guys and be like, 'Sooo, what's your story? You wanna go out?' If they turned me down, I'd be like, 'So, what's your friend like?' It was a very selfish time in my life but also strangely liberating. I felt so weirdly empowered.''

Now she must convince a studio that moviegoers would actually root for such a sloppy female character. ''We see a lot of perfect women on film who want to attain it all,'' says Faris. ''I want to do something that veers from that a little.'' Good luck, says Rogen. ''I can be in movies smoking weed and dating high school girls and shooting people with machine guns and the studio doesn't bat an eye,'' he says. ''But as soon as a girl does something remotely unlikable, they say, 'We don't want a bitchy girl in the movie! No one wants to watch a bitch!'''

Asked if the divorcée project will inevitably end with a scene of the heroine walking down the aisle like a princess, Faris gasps. ''Oh no, I don't want that.'' There probably will have to be a love interest; she's just hoping it never becomes the main plot. ''But it depends,'' she says. ''It's awful, but ultimately you have to get someone to give over $30 million.''

A truck door slams and Faris' fiancé, Parks and Recreation's Chris Pratt, starts singing, in Ozzy Osbourne's squealing falsetto — ''Mama! Mama, I'm coming home!'' — as he bounds up the front steps. Upon request, he brings over another bottle of wine and refills the glasses before pouring himself one. The couple plans to elope later this year, but he's already wearing his new wedding band, which is an upgrade from the paper clips he used to wrap around his finger after they first got engaged.

When Pratt is asked to describe what he finds most charming about his fiancée on screen, Faris claps excitedly. ''She's not just hired to play the hot girl,'' he says. ''I mean obviously she's a hottie, but she gets to put herself in these roles that typically only guys play.'' His praise proceeds in a breathless rush. ''She's willing to have a little yolk on her face to get a laugh....''

Faris crosses her eyes goofily, then singsongs in a bright and tinny voice, ''Most willing actress in town!''