Showing posts with label You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger. Show all posts

Monday, 13 June 2011

From Harrogate to Hollywood - An interview with Christian McKay

Christian McKay won acclaim for his big-screen role as Orson Welles. Now he’s coming to the district to perform a piano suite and discuss his career. He tells RICK BURIN about Orson, Spanish music and making his acting debut in a Harrogate panto.



Christian McKay in award-winning form, playing Orson Welles. The actor is also an accomplished concert pianist. (S)

HE’S worked with Woody Allen, played Orson Welles and shared a red carpet with George Clooney. But Christian McKay’s journey from RADA graduate to international screen sensation began on stage in Harrogate.

Playing a ghostly tree.

“My first job was a panto at Harrogate Theatre,” he says. “They gave me four parts, being cheap buggers, including an old man, Little John, Richard the Lionheart and a ghostly tree: Mandragora.

“I got caught in the trap door and carried on. It prepared me very well for the RSC.”

The date was November 2001 and the show was Babes in the Wood.

“Every audience for the panto is completely different - you have to get a feel for what they’re laughing at and play up to that,” he said at the time.

The Advertiser billed him as a concert pianist making his acting debut. It was his talent for music that had manifested itself first.

As a child, Bury-born McKay was a chorister at Manchester Cathedral and studied piano at Chetham’s, where the instrument became “the focal point of my life, through my Polish piano tutor screaming at me”. At the age of 21, he performed Rachmaninov’s Piano Concerto No. 3.

RADA

Drama, meanwhile, was a hobby. Then, after musical courses at the University of York, the Royal College of Music and Queensland Conservatorium, McKay went for an audition at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art (RADA).

“It was a kind of experiment,” the 37-year-old says.

He ended up spending three years there. “Suddenly the acting took over and my concerts dwindled,” he says.

Even so, he left a first year movement class (“doing all ridiculous things like being a tree”), telling his classmates he was visiting his parents, to catch a plane to the continent. “I played a festival on Saturday night and on Monday morning I was back at RADA, playing a snake, rolling around on the floor,” he says.

His big break as an actor came in 2007, when independent filmmaker Richard Linklater - the director of Before Sunrise and School of Rock - came to watch his one-man show, Rosebud.

Linklater was planning a film about Orson Welles and McKay was playing the booming polymath every night, at a small, off-Broadway theatre.

“Of course, I never wanted to play Orson. I wanted to play Churchill,” he says. “It just came about through unemployment. I was with a couple of mates, I had never played a real-life character and I thought: ‘How’s about doing a one-man show?’

“One of them said: ‘You’ve got a bit of a resemblance to Orson Welles’ and I said: ‘Oh no, not him, he’s a fat American. I don’t want to play him. I’m on a diet.’”

The 'fat American'

He considered Richard Burton (he breaks into a note-perfect impression), Peter Sellers or Alec Guinness, “but it always kept coming back to Welles”.

“I didn’t know anything about him, really, only the highlights,” he says. “But I kind of fell in love with the old man.”

When he received a script for Linklater’s film, Me and Orson Welles, he was sceptical.

“I took it with a big, down-to-earth, Lancastrian pinch of salt,” he says. “Then he turned up. I thought: ‘You can’t possibly cast me, I’m an unknown, I want to remain that way.’”

When Linklater spoke to big producers, they’d say: “Get rid of the limey.” “Right up until the moment he said ‘action’, I thought they would get somebody else,” McKay says.

“Of course they changed their mind, all of them, when the reviews started coming in and the awards nominations... in their dickie bows.”

McKay’s performance in the film is simply phenomenal. Whether seducing his players via sweetly-spoken flattery or heaping opprobrium on them, slotting cherished sections of The Magnificent Ambersons into a radio serial or lamenting his amorphous, shallow nature, McKay is Welles.

He twinkles, yells, guffaws, postures and roars. And in that one moment of heartbreaking self-awareness, his Welles reveals a compulsive need to play the chameleon, saying: “If people can’t find you, they can’t dislike you.”

Acclaim

McKay won three awards and was nominated for 13 others, as the wave of acclaim saw him rub shoulders with Hollywood royalty. “I was on the red carpet doing some interview and I looked around: on one side was George Clooney, on the other was Meryl Streep, and there was the Hollywood sign,” he says. “I thought: ‘This will probably never happen to me again.’”

Maybe not, given that he got bored during the ceremony and headed out the back to chat with the chauffeurs and cooks, almost missing his moment in the spotlight. He was returned to his seat by a gruff American, shouting: ‘You, the Orson Welles guy!’



McKay says playing Welles was “the most extraordinary rollercoaster”.

Having turned down four offers to revive the role on screen, he’s now planning a film about Welles’ later life. Is it easy to slip into the character? “I can’t,” he says. “I’ve completely lost him, which is good.”

The role hasn’t helped his career as much as he might have hoped. “I would go to auditions and they’d say: ‘We can’t have Orson Welles in the company’. I would say: ‘I’m not, I’m just a jobbing actor trying to get a job’,” he says.

Other roles

“In terms of personality, you couldn’t get two people more dissimilar. I met his daughter and she said: ‘You would have got on great with Dad’ and I always claim that we wouldn’t have got on at all. I think he would have despised me. I would have thought him very rude.”

Then, recalling his time playing Welles, he adds with a laugh: “But occasionally we’ve met and got on.”

Smaller roles have followed. McKay featured in the Howard Marks biopic Mr. Nice, as an MI6 operative who recruits the drug smuggler for some low-level espionage - and lives to regret it.

“That was lovely, because I met Howard Marks at the premiere and we were wondering whether the character I played might have snuck in,” he says.

Then he appeared in Woody Allen’s film You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger, as one of Josh Brolin’s poker pals.

“I was greatly looking forward to meeting the great man,” he says. But he blew his chances by crushing Allen’s hand as he went to shake it, then cracking a joke the director didn’t understand, “a better gag than anything in the film”. “After that the camera was on my shoulder,” he says.

Despite his limited screentime, he says it was “a very interesting experience”, especially working with Brolin and Slumdog Millionaire actress Freda Pinto.

Corrie

So how does he choose his roles? “When somebody like Mark Pellington - the director of the Mothman Prophecies and Arlington Road - rings you from America and says: ‘There’s a part I would like you to do’, you do it. You’re lucky to be asked,” he says.

“That’s the difference between American and British actors. A panto in Harrogate? Thanks very much, put me down. A couple of episodes of Coronation Street? Great.

“Perhaps it’s because we’re more versatile - that’s in our training.”

Speaking of Corrie, he’s particularly proud of The Road to Coronation Street, a BAFTA-winning drama about the soap’s origins, made by Brideshead Revisited director Charles Sturridge. “I just think he’s one of the greatest directors I have been lucky enough to work with,” he says. “It’s a lovely film.”

He has also completed a TV series about the Borgias. It’s a European production, not the American one starring Jeremy Irons. “I worked with his wife Sinéad at Stratford, though. I was her eunuch,” he says.

And then there is his labour of love: a film about the First World War Churchill, which McKay has begun writing, with an eye on a 2014 release date. “This is about when he failed and when he thought that his career was over,” he says.

“It would be wonderful to use all those lessons I learned about portraying a real person, because you don’t make an impression, you give the audience a flavour of the character, with little tricks and mannerisms.

“Winston Churchill had a lisp - and speech impediments are quite fashionable in terms of awards at the moment,” he adds with a chuckle.

Music

But first he has some “music time”, while he and wife Emily - who live near Kent - are also expecting their first child. “We’re looking forward to a luxurious summer of music and nappies, all being well,” he says.

McKay returns to the Harrogate district this month for the Northern Aldborough Festival, where he’ll talk about his career and perform Enrique Granados’ piano suite Goyescas. He has played concerts in Yorkshire before, being introduced as ‘Christine McVay’ by one confused compère.

He fell in love with Goyescas as a teenager at Chetham’s, last performing it in public 14 years ago, in Brisbane, Australia.

The piece has a poignant history. “The piano suite was so successful that Granados turned it into an opera, and paid for it with his life,” McKay says. After a successful debut in New York, the composer was invited to play a recital at the White House, but his boat was torpedoed and he drowned.

“It’s absolutely tragic, it was the summation of his career; he had written this letter saying: ‘I feel like I’m now beginning my work’,” McKay says.

“It’s an extraordinary, multi-layered piece of music, very like the story of Spain and based on paintings by Goya. Probably the reason I love it so much is it’s like an opera for the piano, with music and drama going along hand in hand - which is what I do.”

Christian McKay is at Aldborough Church on Tuesday, June 21 from 7.30pm. Tickets are £18. Call 01423 900989, email festival@aldborough.com or go to www.aldborough festival.com.
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This article was written by Rick Burin and appeared on Page 25 of the Harrogate Advertiser, June 10, 2011.

Monday, 21 March 2011

Submarine, chemistry and Woody Allen floundering - Reviews #57

I went to the cinema three times at the weekend. I'd recommend it to anyone.



*SOME SPOILERS AND ONE RUDE WORD*
CINEMA: Submarine (Richard Ayoade, 2010)
- What a refreshing, distinctive and arresting film this is: a hysterically funny portrait of teenage life in Britain as it's really lived and a film we've been waiting for, without really knowing it. In 15-year-old Oliver Tate (Craig Roberts), writer-director Ayoade gives us a new kind of hero: introspective, self-obsessed, occasionally noble, with a burning sense of his own importance, but no idea how it's going to manifest itself. The tone is set by a superbly-conceived fantasy sequence in which he imagines his own death and the outpouring of grief that would be felt "by all of Wales". This appealing, sometimes appalling protagonist exists in a painfully well-observed world, the school scenes - with their bullying, idiocy and moral compromise - conjuring the opposite of a Proustian rush as they throw up every guilty secret or suppressed memory of your teenage years.

It's at school where Oliver finds love, beginning an intense relationship with classmate Jordana Bevan (Yasmine Paige) that's built on bullying, but blossoms into a shared love of spitting and setting fire to things. Oliver tries to broad their horizons by offering her Salinger, Nietzsche and sex, but with limited success. The scene in which he reclines on his bed in some grotesque parody of '70s manhood is one of the funniest things I have ever seen. At home, our hero is also going through a sticky patch, his mother Jill (Sally Hawkins) having her head turned by obnoxious mystic Paddy Considine, with his depressive father (Noah Taylor) unwilling - or unable - to act. The twin storylines dovetail perfectly, with a punchline that's completely unexpected and rings utterly true. Indeed, there isn't a false note in the plotting or the acutely-detailed characterisations, from Chips (Darren Evans), the school bully who compounds Oliver's sorrow with a well-timed 'wanker' sign, to Taylor, who offers one of the most affecting and realistic treatments of mental illness I've seen on screen.

This is a brilliant debut: moving, original and dazzlingly cinematic, its singular feel augmented by dreamy Super 8 segments, eye-catching credits and a great song score from Arctic Monkeys' Alex Turner. And I laughed almost constantly. Film of the year. So far, anyway. (4)

***



CINEMA: The Adjustment Bureau (George Nolfi, 2011) - Matt Damon and Emily Blunt make a wonderful couple in this enjoyable mixture of sci-fi, thriller and romance. Their effortless, glorious chemistry takes the thought-provoking, well-plotted storyline to another level and there's also a nice turn from Anthony Mackie, though the abrupt ending and Terence Stamp's lacklustre one-note showing mute the impact a little. It's still compulsively entertaining; the only serious misstep being the voiceover from the guy in the row in front, which lasted until he was thrown out of the cinema halfway through. (3.5)

***



CINEMA: You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger (Woody Allen, 2010) - Woody Allen has made more truly great films than any other American writer-director. His extended reign as the king of comedy - and a deft dramatist - lasted from Take the Money and Run in 1969 to the beguiling Sweet and Lowdown 30 years later and included an unbroken, decade-long run of masterpieces that took in Manhattan, The Purple Rose of Cairo (see #90, sorry about the formatting - it all dropped off when we changed to the new site), Hannah and Her Sisters and Crimes and Misdemeanours. Only Buster Keaton and '40s screwball comedy wizard Preston Sturges have achieved anything comparable. Since '99, though, pickings have been slim, with Allen's creative paralysis coupled to a paucity of ambition which has turned the biggest lie about his work - that he can only make one type of film - into the truth. Anything Else was a lovely update of Annie Hall, Melinda and Melinda had some bright moments and both The Curse of the Jade Scorpion and Scoop offered some escapist fun. But the blind film director of Hollywood Ending, the risible darkroom petting of Vicky Cristina Barcelona and the laughless second half of Small Town Crooks have been rather more representative.

Allen's latest has the virtues and the vices we've come to expect over the past 12 years. Plotwise, it's nothing new. Love and death. There are four affairs across the film's 98 minutes, as married couple Naomi Watts and Josh Brolin bicker and her mortality-minded parents (Anthony Hopkins and Gemma Jones) split up. These characters, and thus the story, aren't sufficiently engaging, and the film has an acute case of voiceoveritis, though in places the old Allen magic - or some faded semblance of it - shines through. A reunion between Hopkins and Jones is brief but affecting and there's an agreeable absurdism to Watts' despairing farewell chat with boss Antonio Banderas. Allen also draws an amusing supporting performance from Lucy Punch, playing Hopkins' mouthy, uncultured young wife. "It wasn't scary,” she complains, following a theatre trip. "It wasn't supposed to be scary,” he replies. "The ghosts were symbolic.” But a few great lines, one fine comic turn and solid dramatic work from Watts and Jones can't obscure the fact that Allen's 41st film just isn't very good. (2)

***



Mr. Deeds Goes to Town (Frank Capra, 1936) - A truly wonderful film, one of Capra and screenwriter Robert Riskin's very best. Small-town good guy Longfellow Deeds (Gary Cooper) inherits $20m and winds up in the big city, where he's screwed over by crooked lawyers, scheming relatives and a hack (Jean Arthur) who's falling head-over-heels for him. It's superbly written, directed and played, with Arthur absolutely irressistible - particularly in the courtroom finale. (4)

***



A Big Hand for the Little Lady (Fielder Cook, 1966) - A clever Western comedy, with sweaty poker fiend Henry Fonda getting in over his head taking on the big guns (including Jason Robards, John Qualen and Charles Bickford), leaving wife Joanne Woodward to bail him out. It's a bit repetitive to begin with, but the interest builds and builds, there's a neat ending - and what a cast. (3)

***


"Haha, gay people like dancing." Oh shut up.

In & Out (Frank Oz, 1997) - Too infantile in its first half, too worthy in its second, with no internal logic and a gross over-abundance of terrible jokes about what gay people like (it's basically Barbra Streisand, 50 times). Having said that, Kline is pretty good, Joan Cusack has a really powerful dramatic scene in the back room of a church and the climax works well. (2)