[I did this interview with Paul Bettany in 2002 and it originally appeared in Venice Magazine, This was one of the earlier long-form interviews he did in the States. Other than as the "Naked Guy" in A Knight's Tale and the imaginary roommate in A Beautiful Mind, he was unknown to the American public at the time. But Gangster No. 1, while not a perfect film (largely due to the difficulty in believing that Bettany grew into Malcolm McDowell as an older man), showcased an actor in Bettany who had screen presence and intensity that was impossible to look away from.
Bettany is currently starring in the film Legion, set to open this month. Here's a look back at the period in his life when he was just about to become famous.]
THE CONTENDER
With Gangster No. 1, Paul Bettany reveals himself, all hype aside, as one of the most promising actors of his generation.
by Terry Keefe
The Silent Scream. As delivered by Paul Bettany in his new film Gangster No. 1, it's one of the most bone-chilling moments you'll see on screen this year, or any other year, for that matter. And there isn't a CGI effect in sight. Bettany simply closes his eyes, kicks back his head, and unleashes a blood-curdling scream as the sound drops out completely. This amazingly effective moment is designed to symbolize the unrelenting evil which lurks within Bettany's character, known only as Young Gangster, as he schemes his way to the top of the London underworld.
You've probably already been introduced to Bettany via his supporting roles in A Knight's Tale (2001), where he played the hilarious herald, Geoffrey, who warmed up the crowds for the arrival of Heath Ledger's imposter knight, or you may have met him as Russell Crowe's imagnary "prodigal roommate" Charles in A Beautiful Mind (2001). But it's with his lead role in Gangster No. 1 that Bettany truly shows what he's capable of. It's a searing portrayal of ruthless ambition, as well as a cautionary tale about what such ambition can turn one into. Directed by Paul McGuigan (The Acid House), the film begins in present-day London, as the older version of Gangster (played by the great Malcolm McDowell), struts about a posh London hotel where a boxing match is being held. He's the undisputed king of gangland and all is ducky until he gets the news that Freddie Mays is being released from prison. This brings a flood of not-so-fond memories back to Gangster and we flash back to the swinging London of 1968 where we learn that Freddie Mays (played by Naked's David Thewlis) is London's crime kingpin. It's here that we also meet Bettany's Young Gangster, a quiet enforcer who proves to be an effective member of Freddie's team. The problem is that he not only wants Freddie's job, he also wants to be Freddie. He covets Freddie's life and appearance, to the point of fetishizing them. He wants Freddie's suits, his blue Aston Martin, his gold-paneled aparment, his beautiful girlfriend Karen (the exquisite Saffron Burrows), even his tie pin. And when he lets Freddie take the fall for a brutal murder that he commits, he does indeed take it all (except for Karen who wants no part of him). When we see Malcolm McDowell's older Gangster in the present day, we realize that he was so obsessed with being Freddie Mays that he never redecorated the gold-paneled apartment over the years, even though the "swinging" style is now ridiculously out-of-date. The casting of McDowell as Gangster 55 (while not a visual match) is inspired, since the younger version embodied by Bettany is cut from the same cloth as McDowell's Alex character in A Clockwork Orange (1971, coincidentally, the year Bettany was born). Although their fashion senses are different, both characters are young hoodlums with an infinite capacity for evil, who relish in violence.
Not since Casino have we seen a gangster film this bloody, although the violence is essentially in the service of character and never feels exploitive. In the most-difficult-to-watch scene of the film, Bettany's Gangster rubs out another gang lord (Nil by Mouth's Jamie Foreman) in an act of murder shot from the POV of the dying man. It's horrifying to watch the Gangster character, who at first seems a little shy and perhaps redeemable, transform into a certifiable monster.
Bettany's own rise to prominence, fortunately, has no parallel to his on-screen counterpart. The son of actors, Bettany grew up in northwest London, and was classically trained at the Drama Centre London. He made his stage debut in a West End production of "An Inspector Calls" and then became a member of the prestigious Royal Shakespeare Company, appearing in such works as "Richard III," "Romeo and Juliet," and "Julius Caesar." Bettany later landed his first movie roles in Bent (1997) and The Land Girls (1998). His upcoming films include Lars von Trier's Dogville, which also stars Nicole Kidman, and The Heart of Me opposite Helena Bonham Carter. He's also worked with Gangster No. 1 director McGuigan again on The Reckoning, starring opposite Willem Dafoe. Bettany is currently shooting Far Side of the World for director Peter Weir, which reunites him with Russell Crowe. Venice had the opportunity to sit down with Bettany when he was in town for the Academy Awards, which A Beautiful Mind would dominate.
It's a lovely afternoon at photographer Jeff Dunas' house, and Bettany is being shot poolside in a stylish suit as the sun sets. Bettany's iPod plays a Bob Dylan disc, adding to the relaxing mood. Although it's clear his career is poised to skyrocket, Bettany is refreshingly grounded, frequently expressing concern during our chat that he's "sounding like a wanker" while talking about acting.
What type of preparation do you do to play a character such as Gangster, who in many ways is a portrait of pure evil?
Paul Bettany: Well, clearly you don't really have an idea what those sort of impulses are (when you start to prepare). Because, hopefully, you're a well-balanced human being. Hopefully. What did I do? I met with a lot of people. I talked to a lot of people. Most people seem to be good at something, you know what I mean? If you, for example, write a piece and someone comes up to you and says, "I really liked that piece you wrote," it's nice to feel that sort of respect. If you happen to be good at hurting people, it must be tempting to do if you receive something from it, you know? And I guess that feeling somebody's fear feels a little bit akin to feeling respect. I suppose it's a similar sensation, feeling somebody's fear of you. So that's sort of the way I tried to understand it.
Were there any particular people you spoke to in order to gain that understanding?
There was a man called Bruce Reynolds who was the architect of the Great Train Robbery in London. I also spoke to a lot of people who moved in that time who were gangsters. And I spoke to a lot of people now who work in that world. And then I read things like Erich Fromm's Anatomy of Human Destructiveness and stuff like that. Gangster No. 1 was one of the films that I did the most work on. You know, some parts are closer to you, but this one was miles and miles and miles away, I'm glad to say. [laughs]
Did you find it easy to shake the character of Gangster when you went home at night?
Yeah, mostly. [pauses] Listen, it's a really difficult thing to talk about acting. Because when I read people talking about acting, you always sound like a complete wanker. Because you're sort of faced with two choices. One is to go, "It's better than working." Or to go, "I think it's the vanguard of changing people's minds." And I don't think it's either of those things. I think it's somewhere in the middle. But look, imagine you're in a country house at night, on your own, and you hear a noise. It's very easy to suggest to yourself that somebody might be in the house. The imagination runs wild. There's nothing magical about it or particularly talented about it. It's just what we do, you know, you suggest stuff to yourself and the imagination runs riot. Then spend twelve hours a day for three days pretending to stab somebody in the neck with a corkscrew and shouting, "You cunt!" at them (as his Gangster character does in the film) and I defy anybody not to feel a little bit odd just because of the sheer repetition. Twelve hours a day, for three days. So I did feel a bit odd and I had some strange dreams. But that's what? 36 hours? and I've spent 30 years being me. So you shake it off.
The "silent scream" which Gangster does in the film is truly chilling. How did that come about?
It comes from Francis Bacon's "Screaming Popes." He did a series of paintings of these Pope-like figures in sort of cages, screaming, and they're all distorted. And that's where the image came from really. It came from a painting. What it was supposed to be was a very obvious black-and-white image of Gangster's inner life coming out. The mask slipping, sort of what was going on inside of him. So that was the idea behind it. We were making a film about violence and trying to look at it in an unflinching way. I mean, that was our intention and you can really only speak for that. There was a purity of intent. There was a slew, a rash of gangster movies being made that I felt were essentially for middle-class white boys to kind of go, "Oh, I wish I was a gangster." And we wanted to set up a really cool, well-dressed man, who was also a vicious psychopath. So you actually see how it's sort of destroying him. You're right. I enjoy fun gangster films like Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels (1998).
(One of Bacon's "Screaming Popes," above.)
But murder in the real world is as serious as it gets.
Yeah, exactly. There was a man called Steven Lawrence, a black guy who got murdered in London by a bunch of blokes going out having a laugh, you know? And there's nothing funny about it. I find it difficult to find anything funny in having that sort of lifestyle. What they perpetrate is ugly and it must be awful being inside that person's head. The character of Gangster wants David Thewlis' girlfriend in the same way he wants the sofa. In the same way he wants David Thewlis' telly, and his clothes, and his stereo. He just wants it. He sort of wants to eat David Thewlis' character.
And how was acting opposite Mr. Thewlis?
[mimics bowing reverently] David Thewlis is a prince amongst men. He's the funniest man you're likely to meet. Kind and warm. Despite the content of this film, it was a very loving set. So much fun. It was a really charming place to go to work in the morning. You've worked now with Paul McGuigan twice. I adore him. He's very free and he gives you lots of space to work. He can see if you're being crap and he's very frank about it, which I really appreciate. I'd work with him again and again and again.
How was it working with Ron Howard on A Beautiful Mind?
Lovely. He's charming, funny. It's like having, you know, Richie Cunningham direct you.
Is he as nice as you'd imagine Richie Cunningham being in real life?
He really is! He's got a darker sense of humor and he can be wickedly funny. But he's a charmer to work with. And Russell Crowe I'm working with again. We're doing a Peter Weir movie together, which at the moment is called Far Side of the World and we start shooting in about six weeks. It's from a series of novels - I think there are about 20 of them - by Patrick O'Brian. It's set in 1806 and it's about a boat, a frigate, chasing another frigate - a privateer. And Russell is the ship's captain and is obsessed with chasing this boat which outguns us. I'm the ship's surgeon who is obsessed with getting to the Galapagos Islands because he wants to study nature.
In A Knight's Tale, you practically stole the entire film in what could have been a minor role.
Thank you. This isn't me being self-deprecating, but it had nothing to do with me. (Writer-director) Brian Helgeland not only wrote me a great part with great words to say, but he flew me over four times on his own money to make them give me the job, because they kept saying no. He had a lot of faith in me and I owe him sort of a lifelong debt really. And my apartment in England. [laughs]
You've just finished working with director Lars von Trier on Dogville. Was it shot under the Dogma Rules?
No, not really. It was a bit of a departure for him, actually. It was still shot on video, hand-held, all of it. There's no sets. It's like a Frank Capra movie and Brecht mixed together.
Can you tell us anything about the story?
What I can tell you is that it's about a woman who runs into a town. It's set in the 1930s in the Rocky Mountains, in an old mining village. She's running away from gangsters. And it's about how the town absorbs her, or doesn't absorb her, into their community. That's about as much as I can say without having my head kicked in by Lars. [laughs]
Your father was an actor. Was this something you always wanted to do?
Well, my dad wasn't acting when I was a kid. When I was born, my dad was a dancer in the ballet. He stopped because he was getting too old and then became an actor. But he needed a steady income to bring up his kids. So he stopped acting and he gave it all up. Which I'm sure was a massive loss for him, you know, a sacrifice. Now he's acting again. He's 72 years old now.
Tell us a little bit about how you got your start as an actor then.
I left school and then I was a busker, which is somebody who plays guitar on the streets. I lived with two of the smallest lesbians in the world and about five million cockroaches. At one point, the lesbians moved out and the cockroaches didn't. So I thought something should change, and I went to drama school. And it was just really very lucky when I left, and things started to happen for me. I did a play in a theater above a pub which got really great reviews, because it was a bloody well-written play, called "Love and Understanding" by Joe Penhall, whose play "Blue/Orange" just won a bunch of awards last year and is going to Broadway. People came to see me in that and they were all sweet enough to start giving me jobs in films... which was nice of them. [smiles]
Your performance in Gangster No. 1 is definitely going to get you noticed. You're on the verge of breaking out as a star. As you chart your course for the future, are there any actors whose careers you'd like to emulate in terms of your choice of work?
Oh. [pauses, seemingly a bit embarrassed by the praise] That's silly because I'm sure a lot of people would say what I'm about to say, which is "I want to do great work." When I say "great work," I mean be offered stuff which is great, which I can either fuck up or do justice to. Acting can be a really dull job if you do the same thing, every time, every time, every time. What's nice is when you get to play different characters. There are people I think who have allowed themselves to do that and I have found it tricky because you do one thing and it's well received, and everybody wants you to do the same thing again and again. So I'd say that somebody who hasn't fallen into that trop, on this side of the world, is somebody like Sean Penn. Or, on my side of the world, somebody like Daniel Day-Lewis, who continues to do amazing work with everything he does. Billy Crudup is a force of nature. He never puts a foot wrong. He's a beautiful actor. So there are people, yeah. I have enormous respect for good actors. But I think where people really do screw up is when they try to emulate somebody's career. And the impulse which I hope is the case for people like Sean Penn, Daniel Day-Lewis, and Billy Crudup is to do as many different things as you can, because you're forced to look at things in a different way if you play different people. You can learn really interesting things being other people. It can be sort of edifying to me. I'm not sure if a film has changed anything, really. Ever changed anything in any sort of real political way. But I can learn things from doing them and maybe people can have fun when they go to see them. [pauses contemplatively] And listen, if you get to sit there with a guy like Paul McGuigan, he's a really bright man; Paul Sova, the director of photography, really bright man; David Thewlis, really bright man; Malcolm McDowell, really bright man; Saffron Burrows, amazing girl, really bright, amazing politics. You're working upwards of 12 hours a day, six-day weeks. You put enough weeks like that together, it's a hell of a life, you know what I mean? It's inspiring.
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