Interview:IT ALL SEEMS so normal. A long car journey through a winter landscape acquires an element of fun as an American mother encourages her daughters in a guessing game at which the younger child is very good, or so it seems.
The triumphant little girl becomes dangerously excited and in a split second the joy turns into tragedy. Their father, an Englishman, is left to make sense of his own grief as well as the respective resentment and guilt dividing his two daughters. The chance of teaching in Italy presents the family with a year away from the US and the legacy of an accident that should never have happened.
Genova is British director Mike Winterbottom’s first movie in five years. It marks a brilliant return to film and, drawing on his various strengths, including documentary film-making, it is his finest work to date. Either way, it is a remarkable piece, intense, believable, beautifully shot and sufficiently shocking to have a viewer gagging with terror. There are elements of the surreal as a benign presence becomes sinister. It is as much a thriller as it is a faltering romance. And yet again it demonstrates the subtle, persuasive gifts of the most sympathetic, and understated of actors, Colin Firth. Playing the bereaved father Joe, Firth is caught between the contrasting needs of 10-year-old Mary, tormented by nightmares and bedwetting, and the more complex tensions introduced by Kelly, her 16-year-old sister, bored by adolescence. It is a movie of unexpected power.
Firth seems genuinely pleased and admits to being very taken with it. “I keep looking at it and I have to say I’m quite besotted by it. It’s beautiful and it’s real. It’s also quite different, Mike uses a small camera. It’s really opened my eyes to the wonders of working in natural light.” He refers to the contrasts: “The sharp, blinding sunlight and those long, dark alleys.” There is also the contrast between the snow and ice of the opening sequence and the subsequent summer haze of Genoa where most of the film is set.
Firth looks me straight in the eye, and speaks about the new movie with all the enthusiasm of someone who sat in the audience instead of being the star. “It’s about grief and the way people deal with it. It’s also looking at a particular family and how love is tested.” Any parent watching it will experience several pangs of recognition.
A father of a grown son and more recently two younger boys by his Italian wife, Firth is very good with children and his scenes with the little girl who plays his daughter in Genova are convincingly affectionate. Also moving is his growing helplessness in dealing with his angry older daughter played by the assured Willa Holland. One magnificently well shot sequence in which the younger girl attempts to cross a busy street is terrifying.
Having seen Firth in so many movies it is a bit odd to be meeting him in person in a Dublin hotel. There is no affectation, no pretence, no theory; he says acting is about “suspending disbelief”. He is handsome without being sexually intimidating and often smiles that sweet quick little smile that some of his characters use to great effect. Mention him to anyone, male or female, and the response is invariably the same; people like Colin Firth. Some, myself included, went to see Mamma Mia! only because he was in it. The child actors who worked with him on Emma Thompson’s Nanny McPhee consistently remind their own parents of how nice he is, while his performance as Mr Darcy did more for Jane Austen than an army of admiring literary critics.
On a Friday afternoon, he looks more like an off-duty vet or doctor than an actor; in fact he speaks like a lively academic and is decidedly unactorly. This observation makes him laugh. Interested in books, he has always read a lot and likes history, the subject his father studied at Cambridge. “My grandfather went to Oxford, he read theology.” Firth does not belong to that precocious Oxbridge set of British actors. He didn’t go to university and still seems more surprised than regretful about missing out on the experience. “I didn’t do that well at school, I don’t know, I wasn’t focused at the time . . . I don’t really know what happened.” He still seems a bit mystified, but not at all defensive about it, as if he is merely trying to figure out what happened.
His reading has filled many of the gaps and he researches his roles well, often continuing the reading after the shoot is over, such as when he was in Conspiracy (for which he got an Emmy nomination) and became interested in Albert Speer. No, even if the famous Victorian actor/manager Henry Irving is a distant relative by marriage, Firth is not a typical actor, much less a movie star. He laughs on hearing this, and says of acting: “Well, it’s kept me amused”.
It has also kept him in work; Firth is in demand and has never been short of a role. His range is impressive from the obsessed Arsenal supporter in Fever Pitch to the world-weary Roman soldier in The Lost Legion, to a detached Vermeer in Girl with a Pearl Earring, in which he showed how ruthless an artist can be. Few actors can convey the uptight Englishman as well as Firth does; he can look heartbroken as he did in Love, Actually – but is also a good comic actor and is the only saving grace in The Accidental Husband. He has been in two of the most successful British films ever made, The English Patient and Shakespeare in Love.
“I don’t think many people noticed that I was in Shakespeare in Love; there I was, the only one of all my colleagues not winning awards or being nominated and in a film celebrating poetry and language and love and beauty, and I was this miserable fellow with no imagination, no romance in me. I’m rather fond of my Wessex.” His character, Lord Wessex, is the bankrupt aristocrat intent on marrying Gwyneth Paltrow’s Lady Violet De Lesseps, who is secretly in love with Shakespeare. Wessex, says Firth, “can’t even tell her what he admires about her – is it her eyes or her lips? – he is utterly indifferent, and just wants to solve his problem”, which amounts to the funding of his ships heading to the New World.
Being in the film was exciting, and Firth became interested in Elizabethan politics and read widely on the subject. He seems to have the sort of mind that, once it gets drawn to a subject, quickly becomes immersed. “I’ve always liked reading, and when I was approached about The English Patient I was very pleased with myself because I had already discovered Ondaatje and had read Coming Through Slaughter and Running in the Family.” How about In the Skin of the Lion? “Oh yes,” he smiles, “I’d read that. Did you know that some of the characters from that were in The English Patient?” Like a child playing snap, I say: “Caravaggio”. Firth smiles and describes how the late Anthony Minghella had read the novel “and just put it away, left it for a while, and then wrote his version of it, as an impression instead of an adaptation”. In the film, Firth played the doting husband of Katharine who, though only a minor character in the novel, becomes central to the film as the lover of the English patient. “Her character was the one that most struck Anthony. Interesting?” he asks, as much as states.
Interviews promoting new movies are part of an actor’s job, but Firth manages to turn an interview into a conversation. Yet with the clock ticking and the publicist waiting in an alcove off the room, it is a race against time. Asked about one of his earliest roles, that of a young shell-shocked soldier in Pat O’Connor’s crafted A Month in the Country, he says: “I did like that; it is the one film I would like to see again.” Based on JL Carr’s novel, it tells the story of Tom Birkin, who arrives at a Yorkshire village in the summer of 1920.
Hired to uncover a medieval mural known to be painted above the nave in the local church, Birkin is troubled. The war has left him with various twitches and a stammer. Another new arrival is Moon, another war veteran, played by Kenneth Branagh. His job is to locate the burial place of a wealthy woman’s ancestor. While Birkin is falling in love with the vicar’s wife, Moon is greatly taken with the moody, rather beautiful Birkin. Firth gives an inspired performance which also revealed what have become two of his great strengths as an actor: his ability to let his expressive face and eyes convey volumes, and his flair for playing well off his colleagues. Watching that movie now not only makes one conscious of how young they both were, but how good they were at such an early stage of their careers.
“I think good acting makes good acting. I’ve never understood why actors choose to act in solitude, or why they are so competitive. It is more of a team thing. I enjoy having someone to work with rather than against.”
In Another Country (1984) Firth featured as Judd, the independent idealist at a boarding school apparently based on Eton. His classmate is the openly homosexual Guy, no doubt intended to be Burgess, played by Rupert Everett. The two have a natural rapport and brought this dynamic to a lively film version of The Importance of Being Earnest in 2002. They also appeared in a subversive remake of the British comic classic, St Trinian’s, with Everett playing the headmistress to Firth’s Education Minister with a mission to clean up the bankrupt and anarchic St Trinian’s – his mission was compromised by the minister’s having had a previous relationship with the headmistress. Most recently, Firth played a distressed, confused son to Jim Broadbent’s overbearing Dad in And When Did You Last See Your Father? based on poet Blake Morrison’s memoir of a complex, ambivalent father/son relationship.
Handsome, intelligent, witty, approachable, sincere, manly, soothing voice, looks good on a horse – what more could one possibly ask for? Speaking with Firth is enjoyable, even if the conversation is racing between topics because of the time restraint. Ironically, it had started rather badly. When the hotel receptionist had failed to locate Firth I was given a swipe card and directions to the suite. A strange conversation in the lift with a guest who looked like a spy was interrupted when a tall, slim man and a small woman entered the lift. The man was Firth. He and the woman were having an animated conversation.
When the lift stopped, they got out, and so did I. Their conversation continued; Firth, with his slightly awkward elegance, was gesturing, telling a funny story, and the woman was laughing. Close on their heels, I followed, too awkward to say anything. It is unlikely that the hotel corridor was about a mile long although it seemed so as I lurched along behind them. The woman looked around and asked, “Are you following us?”. Firth took off his glasses, peered like a schoolmaster and muttered, “You could have introduced yourself.”
It was a Mr Darcy moment. My excuse about not wanting to interrupt them sounded feeble even to me. But the ground failed to open. I could hear my words spoken some months earlier announcing that there were only two actors I wanted to interview: Johnny Depp because he is so weird; and Colin Firth because he was so gorgeous . . . I mean, such a fine actor.
“Both of my parents were born in India. I grew up all over England, well, mainly the south, the Home Counties.” His Englishness manages to avoid the stereotypes while also being used to great effect, such as in Genova. There is a terrific scene following his wife’s funeral when Firth the Englishman is having a half-hearted conversation with his American in-laws. The cultural distance seems to echo the sense of shock.
Referring to the part he plays in Atom Egoyan’s dark, unsettling movie, Where the Truth Lies, Firth says, “You know in the book, my character was an Italian American, and I didn’t mind playing that — I can do an American. But Atom decided I should make use of my Englishness, that’s what happened there.” It is a dark, stylish piece, screened amid controversy at Cannes in 2005. Firth is one half of a nightclub act, the other half being Kevin Bacon. Again, the partnership was electric. “Kevin is such a fine actor, you have no choice but to perform well.” It was also a daring role for Firth: “My character was violent, sadistic, sexually deviant, and so on.”
It is strange to be discussing Where The Truth Lies when so many people immediately think of Firth as the attractive, uptight lawyer in the Bridget Jones movies. Yet even those romps which made so much money had certain “Mr Darcy” in-jokes, as did St Trinian’s. Does he mind being asked about Pride and Prejudice? “No, not at all.” Is it not true that Firth is irritated by the way that role continues to stalk him? “No. I know that there is this perception that I’m sick of it, but I never said that, and I’m not. It is odd, though, because it was so successful, but for me it was a five-week shoot and then I went on to do other things. That’s the way it is, you move on from jobs to the next one before the other one is finished; the acting is over, but the other work is still going on.”
Had he read Austen? Was he conscious of portraying a character who is so much part of his tradition? “I had never read Austen. I was conscious of her, that school I was in at Eastleigh, near Chichester cathedral, where she is buried. I’d never read her because I thought she was just for girls,” he laughs at himself, “but also, at that age, I was more interested in reading Sartre and Camus, I wanted to be brooding and existentialist. I never studied Shakespeare either, until I went to drama school. But when I read Pride and Prejudice, I loved it. I couldn’t believe what I had been missing out on and read all the novels.” How about Persuasion? He would be a good Wentworth. “No, I’m probably past it now.” How about playing Henchard in The Mayor of Casterbridge? “That’s my favourite novel; Henchard is a fascinating character because he has flaws and he has done this terrible thing and had had to live with it,” says Firth, who reckons humans are more interesting than heroes.
In the forthcoming film of The Picture of Dorian Gray, Firth plays Lord Henry Wotton, while Dorian is the young English actor Ben Barnes, who played Firth’s son in Easy Virtue, based on the Noël Coward play. Released last year, it is a stylish period comedy, with Firth as a disillusioned ex-soldier. He was pleased with the movie, and says: “It has done very well in Italy, but got mixed reviews over here.”
How does Firth feel about Mamma Mia!? “That was great fun, I was delighted to be asked to be in it, it wasn’t easy singing and all that . . . but I knew that it was going to be a big hit and fun, and it was great being part of it.” His nostalgic solo in the boat was very good. “Why, thank you,” he says.
He seems a contented person, neither complacent nor smug. He mentions Tennessee Williams’ plays and is intrigued to hear that the short stories are even better. Mention of a German novel that would make a fine film causes him to praise Downfall and The Lives of Others.
In between all the films, the jobs, the reading,Firth is involved in promoting fair trade for producers in Third World countries. Initially, when he was approached by Oxfam in 2003 he was wary of becoming a token celebrity. But he looked at it in a practical way. “I went to Ethiopia to see for myself. You know, we are all complicit in this exploitation, every time you buy something that has been produced for nothing by a person who has no say, no rights. Ethiopia is beautiful and the people are dignified, but the poverty . . . I thought it would really get to me, but in fact it was far worse when I came home and saw us all drinking our cappuccinos and not thinking about the real costs. The farmer you see doesn’t realise how much we pay for his coffee. He gets so little, he thinks we get it for free. My involvement started as symbolic, but it quickly became personal.”
Through his involvement with Progreso, of which he is a director, he has made his celebrity work with a shop in Chiswick (Ecò Age Ltd), which sells a wide range of fair trade goods.
Just one final question: did he do his own riding as Mr Darcy? “I did indeed,” he says proudly. “Recently I was in something else and my character had to ride a horse, and I thought, ‘Oh I’m getting on a bit, get someone else to do it’, but when I watched him, I didn’t think the double was doing that well. So I decided I’d do it myself – and I did.”