![]() Michael Sheen |
You were last here at the Donmar Warehouse in
Caligula, for which you won both the Evening
Standard and Critics’ Circle Awards for Best Actor in
2003. But that wasn’t the first time you’ve worked here,
was it? It seems to have become something of a
theatrical home for you.
Yes, I’ve actually acted here three times now,
but I’ve also directed here, and I’ve also produced a
play here, so I have done almost everything. I just have
to write something, and then I’ll have done it all! I
first came here as an actor in a play called Don’t
Fool with Love with Cheek by Jowl that ran here as
part of a tour. I produced a play called A World of
Our Own—where I believe Colin Farrell made his
London stage debut—that was part of the Four Corner
season that they used to do. I had a production company
called Foundry—it was me, Robert Delamere and Helen
McCrory—and we produced two plays, one of them here. And
I directed a play called Bad Finger, which was
part of a different Four Corner season, produced by a
Welsh Theatre Company, Thin Language, that I was part
of. So, I’ve had a long relationship here.
Now Frost/Nixon reunites you with
Michael Grandage, who also directed Caligula.
I think he’s terrific. I’d be quite happy just
to act here all the time and to work with him and [his
design partner] Christopher Oram as well. It’s a great
team and a lovely theatre to work in. Caligula
was fantastic. I had a great time. It’s then that you
wish the runs were a bit longer, because when you do
something like that you just want to keep going."
Would you ever be tempted to direct some
more? Michael Grandage, of course, also used to be an
actor.
I really prefer acting for now. I’ve directed a
few things, but I’ve got a different kind of mentality.
I’m not patient enough to do it.
![]() Frost/Nixon director Michael Grandage and star Michael Sheen |
I’m not sure. To his great credit, you never feel like Michael was an actor when he directs you, and I mean that as a compliment. He doesn’t give you line readings or anything like that. He can set balls rolling, and allow them to go where they are going to go. But I’m sure it helps that he’s been an actor, because he’s sympathetic to the actors and respects what the actor has to offer.
In the last few years your stage appearances
seem to have become less frequent, though. Will theatre
lose you?
Because my daughter is living in America, doing a long
run of a play here would mean that I don’t get to see
her, so I can’t really do that anymore. I go there all
the time now to see her. That’s why the National Theatre
is viable for me, because of the breaks you get when
you’re in the rep. And here is viable because it’s short
runs only. Anything else makes it too hard. She’s in
school in L.A. It’s complicated enough for actors when
their child is in school in the country that they live
and work in, but when the child is in a school in
another country, it’s very hard. So that’s part of the
reason, but also, I can’t afford to live on theatre
wages. If I’m doing a run at the Donmar or National,
they pay nothing, so basically, it’s like you’re doing
it for free. I can’t afford to do that too often. I rent
a place in L.A. and a place here, so it’s just
ridiculously expensive.
How old is your daughter now? Has she
developed an American accent?
She’s seven and a half. But no, she’s not really got an
American accent, not much; she’s still fairly posh,
though she’s got a few Welsh-isms I’ve taught her.
Does going to L.A. regularly keep you in the
loop for work over there?
I suppose, but it’s strange—all the actors I
know who go out to L.A. for brief visits, go out there
for work, whereas I don’t. It’s just where my daughter
lives, and so I live half my time there, too. But I
suppose I stay in the loop because when I’m there, I do
go up for things.
Would you ever think of relocating
permanently?
No, I couldn’t. My work is here. I have to go
back and forth and it’s complicated and difficult, but
there’s not enough work for me there. It’s not like I’m
being offered loads of work there and choosing not to do
it. The work I am offered comes from here. And apart
from the most important person in my life—my
daughter—everyone else important in my life is here. So
it’s a bit of a juggling act.
You’ve also tended to juggle new and old work
and different mediums. Do you have a preference?
It’s just whatever connects with me, and what I
think will make exciting theatre or film or television.
It doesn’t matter what medium the script is in if it’s
something that I find exciting. It has to be challenging
to me personally in terms of the part, but it also has
to be in the context of a story that I find exciting and
worthwhile. I’d like to more Shakespeare—there are more
interesting parts as you get older. I hope there’s still
time for Hamlet, too. I’d love to do that. As for
film and television versus theatre, I find both
fascinating to do. I just find acting fascinating and
people fascinating. I don’t really mind where I am doing
it for; it’s just nice to be able to do both because it
gets boring doing only one. Of course, you get paid
better on film and more people see it. One helps the
other—in some ways you learn more about storytelling
through doing theatre because as an actor you have much
more control over the story that is being told, whereas
on film or TV you have no control. But then on film and
TV you can really be very forensic about stuff, which is
really interesting. I’ve been incredibly fortunate to
work with Stephen Frears a few times now, who is
certainly the best actors’ director on film. It’s like
having a great training to work with him.
There’s also a link to this play from Stephen
Frears to the playwright Peter Morgan and yourself. Can
you explain how you came to be doing Frost/Nixon?
Obviously there are two connections. One is
through Michael Grandage and the Donmar, and the other
is through Peter, the writer. This is the third time
I’ve worked with him. We did The Deal originally
a few years ago on TV, where I played Tony Blair, and
more recently we also did a cinema film called The
Queen, where I played Blair again and Helen Mirren
plays the Queen, and it’s about the week after the death
of Diana. Stephen directed both. But this is Peter’s
first stage play, and he says he wrote Frost with me in
mind. Maybe that’s just him trying to flatter me. [Laughs.]
But certainly through the work we’ve done before, he
wanted me to play Frost, and Michael wasn’t opposed to
it, given that we’d worked together before. Peter told
me about this play a long time ago now. Once he got
Michael interested in doing it, we did a workshop of it
here about a year ago. We did it on the stage and got up
and sort of acted it. Nixon was played by Douglas Hodge,
who had just opened in Michael’s production of Guys
and Dolls.
As you mentioned, you’ve played Tony Blair
twice now. Do you have a special affinity for him?
No, I don’t so. It’s just that both were
written and directed by the same men, so it would have
been incredibly insulting if they hadn’t asked me to do
it.
What about an affinity for playing real-life
characters then?
Peter is drawn to writing about real people,
and I guess because we’ve got a good relationship, and
I’m the right age for the sort of characters that he is
interested in, he thinks of me, which is very nice. But
for some reason, I’ve started playing a lot more real
people. I did Kenneth Williams recently [in the TV film
Fantabulosa, recently seen on BBC4 and soon to be
shown again on BBC2], and I also played H.G. Wells. It
seems to be happening a lot.
If you’re playing someone recognisable like Williams, Blair or Frost, they’re so contemporary and recognisable, that you can’t just turn up and not be like them. So you have to do a lot of work. What is difficult and challenging about it is that you’ve always got the end result in front of you. When you’re playing a fictional
![]() Michael Sheen in Frost/Nixon |
Did you discuss this
process with co-star Frank
Langella?
Yes, Frank spoke in
rehearsals about not being sure
how far to go in terms of
looking and sounding like Nixon.
You have to do enough so it
doesn’t get in the way. If you
don’t look or sound or act like
the person, then that can get in
the way as well; but you don’t
want to do it too much or that
gets in the way of the story,
too. You have to make people
comfortable with the idea that
they’re playing Frost or Nixon
or Blair. I don’t personally
think you should get into
sticking things on. I do hair
and make-up and that’s it. If
you’re making too much of an
effort, people will think how
much you look or sound like him;
but you want them to accept you
as a character and watch the
story and emotionally connect
with what’s going on. It’s not a
competition for how much you
seem like the person.
I gather that’s
something that your dad does—he
has a sideline as a Jack
Nicholson impersonator.
Yes, he does! But I wouldn’t
really classify that as acting.
Did you watch the
actual Frost/Nixon interview
tapes a lot to prepare for this?
Because they only make up a
small part of the play, I didn’t
watch the interviews that much.
They work on television, but
we’re doing a play, so if we
just very carefully recreated
the interviews, it would be
incredibly boring for the
audience. You have to make it
work theatrically. The
difference with researching
Kenneth Williams and Blair is
that I was doing them for a
camera, so I could absolutely
painstakingly recreate certain
interviews or TV appearances,
whereas I couldn’t do that with
this. For instance, when you
watch the Frost interviews on TV
they’re very conversational; but
in the theatre, they get very,
very heated because there’s no
point in doing them in the same
way. We’re still keeping the
psychological truth of what was
going on in the interviews, but
we are just presenting it for a
theatrical audience. I didn’t
watch them too much in case I
started to get the rhythm and
pattern of them, which would not
have been useful.
So what research did
you do?
I just watched lots of footage
of Frost, especially from
earlier on in his career. Our
impression of him today as an
older man is a very particular
one, and the
![]() Michael Sheen & Frank Langella in Frost/Nixon |
Have you met him?
He came to watch the play the
night before last, and came
around after. He had been
heavily involved early on and
had read it, but I’m sure he was
quite nervous to watch himself
being portrayed, even though
he’d read the script.
What about you?
Weren’t you nervous, too?
I didn’t know he was
in. I only knew afterward. Like
any character you play, you come
to love the character, so I just
hoped that he was OK about it.
And he seemed to be. I think he
was very relieved.
Have you ever met
Tony Blair?
No. But I think Peter
is very clever in his writing,
and this is why The Deal
now in retrospect gets called a
seminal drama. I wasn’t aware
till The Deal of anyone
having written a drama about
contemporary politicians that
wasn’t satirical. There was
humour in it and it was cheeky,
but it wasn’t in any way
satire—it was about human beings
in all their complexity.
Inevitably, the writer has some
kind of agenda in how they are
writing about the character, but
as an actor you can’t, you just
have to try to play them as
complicated human beings like
everyone is.
Politics has lately
played a big part in your
career.
That’s just the way it’s come
about. I’ve always enjoyed
playing very clever people, and
I think Peter is interested in
writing about very sharp minds
and very difficult, complicated
things going on in people’s
heads. Politics is a very
subtle, duplicitous, shadowy and
self-delusional world that makes
for great drama. It also makes
for great areas to explore for
an actor. Politicians, religious
fanatics, actors and people with
mental illness tends to be what
I am most interested in playing,
and they’ve all got
similarities. That’s not being
flippant, they really do—it’s
the gap between what you think
you are doing and what you are
actually doing that is always
the most interesting thing. As
an actor, you think you’re
consciously putting across one
thing, but unconsciously you’re
putting across something else.
When they’re in conflict in some
way, then that becomes
interesting. We’re all doing
that all the time, it’s just in
those particular subjects I’ve
mentioned they’re most
heightened, and I think that’s
always very interesting.
Do you find that
theatre heightens things even
more?
No, I would disagree.
Funnily enough, all the biggest,
most heightened characters I’ve
played have been on film. You
can’t get much bigger than
Kenneth Williams or Dirty
Filthy Love, about a guy
with Tourette’s. Before I did
much work in front of a camera,
everyone said you’ve got to be
quite small, you can’t be too
big or too theatrical. But all
those terms are misused. You can
be as big as you want to be in
front of a camera. It’s about
whether it’s truthful and
believable or not. Any
performance is about being very
specific to whom you’re
presenting it to. The difference
between acting in the Donmar or
acting in the Olivier like I did
last year [in The UN
Inspector], is about knowing
who you are performing it to.
Here you are performing to an
audience of 250 on three sides;
in the Olivier, you are
performing to over a thousand.
And when you’re doing it in
front of a camera, you’re doing
it to the camera. It’s about
being very specific about
that—it’s got nothing to do with
how big or small you are.
Talking of size and
being larger than life, would
you be tempted to do a musical?
(Yes, Michael! Please do the Rocky Horror Picture Show! - WebAdmin)



