» A life on stage
Tom Conti takes time away from rehearsals of Romantic Comedy – showing at Theatre Royal Brighton soon – to talk to Andrew Kay
You’ve had an extraordinary career as an actor, but you actually started to train as a musician pianist…
That’s what I wanted to do, yes.
What made you change?
A sign in the music college said ‘College of Drama’ and I thought, what’s that about? I’d done stuff in school – even a bit of amateur dramatics in Glasgow. I went in and talked to this really nice lady and it just sounded really interesting. It’s odd but that’s what happened.
So it was a whim?
Almost, but not quite. It also could have been laziness because music is a very hard life. So is theatre, but it is a hard life in a different way.
Did you think that long periods of rehearsal, touring, living in digs, endless nights in the West End, getting home at midnight, and all the worries of not working would be easier?
No, but the world is full of pianists.
There were indications that you were, perhaps, going to be a piano prodigy…
Oh, Christ, no – that is just legend. I still play, but badly. I was probably better when I was nine.
When you changed from music to drama school, were your family happy?
This was the 50s and all my friends became lawyers and doctors or accountants – you know, all the normal things – and that’s what they wanted for me too. But my father was Italian, and it was kind of his fault – and my mother too – because they were fond of music. They took me to concerts and the theatre from as soon as I could sit quietly, so it was their fault that this passion for performing arts developed. They were really supportive. But, they would rather I had gone to medical school.
Were they proud of your success?
Sadly my father died before any success arrived, but my mother did live to see me go to Broadway – which must have been a great relief for her.
That was your Broadway role in Who’s Life Is This Anyway? Is it true that you had to fight the actors’ union to perform…
I didn’t fight them. It was the producer, a wonderful man called Manny Isenberg who wanted me to come to the play. He went to court to plead that it was a special case.
Playing a quadriplegic, you were only able to use facial expressions. How difficult was that?
Not as difficult as you might imagine. The most important thing for any actor to know is that the audience is actually ahead of you a lot of the time. You shouldn’t really bother to try and portray complicated emotions because they know they are going on in your head and the more you are trying to portray them, the more you are disturbing the audience’s imagination. The audience’s imagination is as great as an actor’s talent, so let them do a lot of work…
That’s generous and assumes that they have the intelligence to do that.
It’s not intelligence, it’s human instinct. In the play, there’s a young man who can’t move anything apart from his head. He can breathe, but he can’t move any limbs. So the audience is with you from that point. For example, in the play, the doctor says, "I’m gonna give you an injection and you’ll feel better," and I say, "No don’t," and he says, "You don’t understand, you’ll feel better," and I say, "Don’t stick that needle in me". He sticks the needle in me and the audience is overwhelmed with emotion.
Less is, perhaps, more?
Always.
Even when playing the heavy-drinking New Statesman journalist Jeffery Barnard?
Yes, oh yes, absolutely. Jeffery Barnard is Unwell is longer than Hamlet, and you never leave the stage, but it’s rewarding because they laugh and they cry. It’s beautifully written too, so it makes it easy.
Did you meet Barnard before or after you’d played the role?
Before, many, many years before. I’d actually met him when he was whole, when he was a whole person… but still a lush. He was quite a character – absolutely delightful company, so amusing and charming.
Was it odd to play someone that you knew?
Yes, it was odd, yes.
Like you were treading into someone’s ghostly shoes?
He was still alive while I was playing him – that was kind of odd. But you put it out of your mind, because there’s nothing you can do about it. I first met him in the 70s, and then I didn’t see him again for a number of years. The next time I saw him was in [London seafood restaurant] Wheelers. I had lunch one day and there was a guy sitting there, and I thought, he’s not going to be able to eat lunch because he looked so ill, completely white. I said to my friend, "Do you know who that guy is?" My friend said, "Oh, it’s Jeffery Barnard". He bore no resemblance to the man I knew. It was shocking… and he did it all by himself.
The play that you are rehearsing, Romantic Comedy, you have done before. Is it difficult to go back to a role?
It’s better, because when you get older you actually get better. You know more, and from that point of view, it’s easier. More fun.
How much of Tom Conti is in your character of Jason Carmichael?
Very little. Jason’s quite a cold man, and I’m not. He’s a bit of a mess, Jason. He’s made himself up as a person, and he’s vain, and I’m really not.
When I said I was interviewing Tom Conti there was a tangible frisson of excitement among the women in the office…
Oh, I’m very flattered. They haven’t seen me for a few years then.
You don’t look different. Actors live on as iconic images from their films. People remember you as Costas the Greek lothario in Shirley Valentine, and for your role in The Glittering Prizes…
When I was touted as a new kind of hot actor and all that nonsense, girls used to come up to the stage and touch my hair and all that. But a few years later a girl comes up to me and says, "Oh my mother just loves you". A few years after that, someone came up to me and said, "Oh my grandma’s so excited!". If I take my shirt off now there are screams of horror!
You direct now too. Is that more fun?
When you’re in the play as well it’s different. But as an actor you’ve got to be aware of everything that’s going on around you. As a director, the only difference is when you’re not on stage you can’t sneak off for a coffee. And actors are wonderful – we were doing a scene this afternoon and all the actors pitch in with ‘what if’s’ – they sort of make it happen.
So you allow them to find their way?
You have to, absolutely. It would be damn silly not to. I remember I directed a play with Jane Asher and Madeleine Christie – experienced people. There was a scene where everybody was on stage, people were coming and going, and we worked on this for an hour without getting it right. I thought, I’m the problem here, so I said, "I’ve got to go and phone someone. I’ll be back. Why don’t you just mess around with the act". I went away for 15 minutes, and when I came back, they had fixed it.
Your career divides very clearly into film, stage and TV.Was that by accident?
There was no plan. As work came, I did it. It seems to have worked.
You’re still touring – is that stressful?
No, I like touring. I like the audiences on tour and the fact that they want to come to the theatre. The problem in the West End is that you have no idea how the play is going to be received by the critics, and people do read those reviews. Unless you have the papers on your side then its difficult to sell tickets. Good actors can work around the country. People come, we do good plays, so why drive yourself insane? It is a shame for the West End.
At the same time, you are making those decisions – the West End has seen 22 shows close already this year…
I know. It’s terrible and, of course, the papers do sometimes slam things which they shouldn’t. Most of the time they get it right, but a good review for a bad play can make audiences not go back to the theatre for years.
Is that the ‘Emperor’s new clothes’ scenario?
In a way. If they say, "This is a masterpiece," they have to remember people are paying all this money.
Theatre is increasingly expensive – are ticket prices putting people off?
I’m sure it is. Theatres try to keep the ticket prices as low as possible, but the business rates, VAT and all that stuff is an absolute killer.
You’ve played Brighton many times. Is it a nice theatre to play?
Yes it’s a lovely theatre.
Will you commute or stay in Brighton?
I’ll stay. Driving in the rush hour is hideous.
The last film I saw you in was Derailed, as an advertising executive in New York.
It had Jennifer Aniston in it. But we shot it entirely in London. I think it was terrific. It’s one of the few occasions I didn’t read the entire script because I didn’t want to know what happens.
Did the part for Derailed come through Jennifer Aniston and your role in Friends?
No, but the Friends part was a wonderful character to play.
Are there any great roles that you’ve not done that you’d still like to do?
No, I’m not interested in the great roles really. I have no passion to give, as they say, ‘my Hamlet’. Shakespeare never has anything to sit on really, he never had comfortable chairs.
Standing around chatting all evening is not my idea of fun – I like a play with a nice sofa. And its easy to do. You get away with murder in classical theatre, people just accept anything – it’s a shame. I would have quite liked to have a go at Hamlet. I almost did once with Michael Blakemore, and he had this crazy idea of trying to get Durex to sponsor it.
"Shakespeare never has anything to sit on really, he never had comfortable chairs. Standing around chatting all evening is not my idea of fun – I like a play with a nice sofa"
The logic being that Hamlet would have been a better man for a condom…?
Yes, but we didn’t do it. The trouble is that by the time you know how to play Hamlet, you’re too old to play Hamlet.
Are you doing any new TV work?
I’m trying to sell an idea to television and it’s impossible, I just can’t believe it.
Is this the tyranny of youth?
I think it probably is, yes. The strangest thing has happened. In 2001, I went to ITV with an idea for a series after having seen The West Wing, which I saw in New York. I thought you can’t do that in England, because nobody cares about 10 Downing Street. I thought, "I know where we can set this – Buckingham Palace". The plot is that a king is unexpectedly put on the throne because his brother dies. He doesn’t want to be king and he decides not to do it despite his family’s pleas. But he sees the duty and he does it and that was the basic idea – a dialogue between the palace and Number 10. Eventually he gets into the power, and he marries an American criminal lawyer. Anyway the TV guy said, "No, people are not interested in this sort of stuff". Then, of course, The Queen came out last year. A few months ago I read in a trade magazine that ITV has just announced that they are going to do West Wing-style series set in Buckingham Palace…
And are you involved? Is there anything you can do?
No, I’m not involved at all. And yes, of course, I’m Italian!
You have a tour coming up. How long is it?
Sixteen weeks. Then I have another TV idea that I am working on, set in The Savoy in the Second World War. It’s a wonderfully juicy idea – different stories of people passing through. It was one of the most exciting places on earth then. Churchill was in The Savoy having supper when he was told he had to run the government.
You have virtually no Scottish accent…
Well, I’ve been away for 40 years. It was never very powerful, but it was there at one point. When I started as an actor, I was told, "You most lose the Scottish accent, there must be no trace of it". Now, of course, no actor can speak English.
Would you have liked to sing opera?
Oh, I would have loved to do that, yes. But you have to be born with that voice.
But you have played musical roles…
Yes, I did a musical years ago. I was playing alongside Gemma Craven. It was the best fun I ever had on stage. It was a Neil Simon play, Chapter 2.
Did you enjoy the song and dance stuff?
Well I didn’t have to do much of that – it was really more Gemma’s department. But, yes, it was a number of songs, but I didn’t have to carry the musical part of the show.
Do you have to work hard to stay fit?
Yes, to a certain extent. It’s not exhausting like being sporty.
Is acting still fun?
Yes. It’s what I do, and that makes it easier.
Although there are pressures. What you’re doing on stage is actually very demanding. If you can do it naturally, it’s not as demanding as it might be. If you can’t quite do it easily, it most be absolute hell. I mean, there are actors that can’t, and it most be really tough for them – really hard – and you always know when an actor can’t quite do it, and he or she knows that they can’t too.
Is that difficult to work against?
Yes, that is quite tough.
Romantic Comedy, Theatre Royal, Brighton,
New Road, Brighton, Mon 29 Oct until Sat 3 Nov,
08700 606 650
