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Guess who’s back? Back again. The beautiful white curls are back!
#michael sheen#good omens#aziraphale#good ineffable omens#ineffable husbands#the white curl#white curls#sheendex#port talbot#wales#prince of wales#fandom is in shambles#those beautiful curls
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‘I wanted to be seen as the greatest actor of all time. Then I realised that was nonsense’: Michael Sheen on pride, parenting and paying it forward
He’s the feted star who cracked Hollywood, but it was only when he swapped LA for his home town in Wales that he was able to do his most meaningful work yet
By Simon Hattenstone
Michael Sheen has been fabulous in so many TV dramas and movies, it’s hard to know where to start. But perhaps his most memorable appearance came earlier this year in a TV show that didn’t require him to do any acting at all. The Assembly was a Q&A session in which he took questions from a group of young neurodiverse people. Sheen didn’t have a clue what would be asked, and no subject was off limits. It made for life-affirming telly. The 55-year-old Welsh actor was so natural, warm and encouraging as he answered a series of nosy, surprising and inspired questions. I watched it thinking what a brilliant community worker Sheen would be. And, in a way, that’s what he has become in recent years.
“The Assembly’s had more response than anything else I’ve ever done,” Sheen tells me. “Almost every day someone will come up to me and mention it, particularly people who have children with autism. They say it was just so lovely to see something where the interviewers were empowered. I had a fantastic time.” He replays some of his favourite moments: the young man Leo who took an age to start talking, and then delivered the most beautifully phrased question about the influence of Dylan Thomas on Sheen’s life; the woman who asked what it was like to be married to a woman only five years older than his daughter; and the question that came at the end: “What’s your name, again?” He smiles: “And Harry with the trilby on. Just the nicest man ever.” You came across as an incredibly nice man, too, I say. “Aw well, it’s hard not to be when you’re among all those amazing people, innit.”
Today we meet in London, ostensibly to talk about A Very Royal Scandal, a gripping mini-series about Prince Andrew’s infamous Newsnight interview with Emily Maitlis – the disastrous attempt to defend his honour that sealed his fall from grace. But we don’t get to the show till it’s almost going home time. Sheen’s too busy discussing all the other stuff that matters to him, away from business.
Six years ago, he swapped life in Los Angeles for Port Talbot, the steel town where he grew up. These days he calls himself a not-for-profit actor – a term he happily admits he’s invented. “It means that I try to use as much of the money I earn as I can to go towards developing projects and supporting various things. Having had some experiences of not-for-profit organisations and social enterprises, I realised that’s what I want to do with my business. And my business is me.” He grins. There was a suggestion that he might stop acting in order to do good works, but he says that never made sense; only by getting decent gigs can he earn money to put back into the community.
It has to be said he’s got the air of a not-for-profit actor today – scruffy black top, sloppy black pants, black trainers. With a bird’s-nest beard and a thicket of greying curls, he looks nicely crumpled. But give him a shave and a trim, allow him a flash of that electric smile, and he could still pass as a thirtysomething superstar.
Sheen is best known for transforming into household names – Brian Clough in The Damned United; Chris Tarrant in Quiz; David Frost in Frost/Nixon; a trio of films as Tony Blair (The Deal, The Queen, and The Special Relationship); Kenneth Williams in Fantabulosa. His Prince Andrew is compelling; by turns petulant, pathetic, monstrous and poignant. He has a gift for inhabiting famous people – voice, body, soul, the works. He’s equally adept as a regular character actor – the dapper angel Aziraphale in Good Omens, pale and pinched as spurned suitor William Boldwood in the 2015 film of Far From the Madding Crowd, the tortured father of a daughter with muscular dystrophy in last year’s BBC drama Best Interests. He even plays a winning version of himself alongside David Tennant (and their respective partners Anna Lundberg and Georgia Tennant) in the lockdown hit TV series Staged.
But the work that changed his life was his 2011 epic three-day reimagining of The Passion on the streets of Port Talbot, involving more than 1,000 people from the local community. It was years in the making, and during that time he decided he would leave Los Angeles to come home. Initially, home just meant Britain, probably London. But the longer he spent with his people, the more it became apparent to him that home could only mean one thing – returning to Port Talbot, and helping the disadvantaged town in whatever way he could.
He admits that for many years he didn’t have a clue about the reality of life in Port Talbot. He had always lived in one bubble or another. His parents were hardly flush, but they had decent jobs – his mother was a secretary, his father a personnel manager at British Steel, and both were active in amateur dramatics. Sheen was academically gifted (he considered studying English at Oxford University before winning a place at Rada), a talented footballer (he had trials with Cardiff and Swansea) and an exceptional young actor. Then came the bubble of Rada and London, followed by the bubble of LA.
It was only when he started to work on The Passion that he began to understand his home town. One day he was rehearsing with a group in a community hall when he was approached by a woman. “She told me she was the mother of this boy who’d been in my class at school called Nigel. When I was 11, he fell off a cliff in an accident and died. It was the first time I’d known someone to die. She said, ‘I’ve started up a grief counselling group here. I have a little bit of money from the council because there is no grief counselling in this area.’” She’d had no counselling when Nigel died, nor in the 31 years since. “And all these years later, she’d set up a little grief counselling thing with a bit of money, so that was extraordinary to hear.” Next time he returned he discovered that the group no longer existed because of council cuts.
Every time he went back he discovered something new. He met a group that supported young carers. Sheen doesn’t try to disguise how ignorant he was. “I said, ‘All right, what are young carers?’ And they said, ‘They’re children who are supporting a family member.’ And I’m like, ‘OK, this is a profession, they get paid, right?’ And I was told, ‘No, they don’t get paid and our little organisation gives them a bit of respite – once a week we take them bowling or to the cinema.’ I went bowling with them one night and there were eight-year-old kids looking after their mother and bringing up the younger kids. This one organisation was trying to take these kids bowling one night a week, and then that went. No funding for that, either. That kind of stuff was shocking.”
As a child, SHEEN says he was oblivious to struggle because he was so driven by his own dreams. First, it was football. By his mid-teens it was acting. West Glamorgan Youth Theatre, which he calls “one of the best youth theatres in the world”, was on his doorstep. “The miners’ strike was on when I was 15 in Port Talbot and I wasn’t really aware of it at the time. That’s how blinkered I was, because I was so obsessed by acting at that point.” Acting wasn’t regarded as a lofty fantasy in Port Talbot as it may have been in many working-class communities. After all, the town had produced Richard Burton and Anthony Hopkins.
In his late teens, heading off for Rada, Sheen feared he would be surrounded by giant talents who would dwarf his. When he discovered that wasn’t the case, he suffered delusions of grandeur. “I wanted to be recognised as the greatest actor in the world,” he says bluntly. In the second year, the students did their first public production: Oedipus Rex. “I thought, well obviously I’ll be cast as Oedipus, then we’ll perform Oedipus to the public and when the world sees me for the first time I’ll be carried shoulder-high through the streets of London and hailed as the greatest actor of all time.” I look for an ironic wink or nod, but none is forthcoming.
Sure enough, he was cast in the lead role. “We did our first public production and I thought I was brilliant.” But nothing changed. It didn’t bring him instant acclaim. By the third night, he could barely get through the performance.
Were you a bit of a cock back then, I ask. He shakes his head. “No, I was having a breakdown. I was crying most of the time. I just fell apart. I spoke to the principal of Rada and I said, ‘I can’t continue at drama school, I have to leave.’ And he said just take some time off, which I did, and two or three weeks later I slowly came back and then completely changed the way I acted.”
Until then he believed acting was just about what he did. “I thought you just worked out how to say the lines as cleverly as you could; it had nothing to do with responding to other people or being in the moment. It was showing off, essentially. And there’s a ceiling to where you can get with that. That breakdown I had was because I’d reached the ceiling and didn’t know how to go any further. That’s why I fell apart.”
He gradually put himself and his technique back together. Was he left with the same ambition? “No. The idea of being considered the best actor of all time becomes nonsense.” In 1991, Sheen left Rada early, because he’d been offered a job he couldn’t turn down. He made his professional debut opposite Vanessa Redgrave in a West End production of Martin Sherman’s When She Danced. Theatre was Sheen’s first love, and his rise was meteoric. From the off, he was cast as the lead in the classics (Romeo and Juliet, Peer Gynt, Henry V, The Seagull) and the 20th-century masterpieces (Norman in The Dresser, Salieri and Mozart in Amadeus, Jimmy Porter in Look Back In Anger).
Sheen was doing exceptionally well when he and his then partner Kate Beckinsale moved to LA for her work in the early 2000s. She was four years younger than him, and already a movie star. Their daughter Lily, now an actor, was a toddler. He assumed that his transition to stardom in LA would be as seamless as it had been in Britain. But it wasn’t. His theatrical acclaim counted for nothing. In 2003, he and Beckinsale split up, but he stayed in LA to be close to Lily.
The first few years, he says, were so lonely and dispiriting. “I found myself living in Los Angeles, there to be with my daughter but just seeing her once a week. I had no career there – it was essentially like starting again. I had no friends and spent a lot of time on my own. It was tough. Slowly I realised how it was affecting me.” In what way? “I remember coming out of an audition for Alien vs Predator, to play a tech geek computer guy with five lines and really caring about it, and then thinking: ‘I can be playing fucking Hamlet at home, what am I doing, what’s this all about?’” He says he’d been so lucky – always working, never having to audition, getting the prize jobs. And suddenly in LA he was an outsider; a nobody.
He and Beckinsale are often cited as role models for joint parenting by ex-couples. In 2016, Beckinsale, Lily and Sheen staged a hilarious photo for James Corden’s The Late, Late Show, recreating the moment of giving birth 17 years earlier. Beckinsale reclines on a kitchen table with Lily sitting between her legs, as an alarmed-looking Sheen stands to the side. Have they always got on well since splitting up? “We’ve had our ups and downs, but we’re very important in each other’s lives. It would be really sad if we weren’t – like cutting off a whole part of your life. I’m not saying it doesn’t have its challenges, and I’m sure it’s been harder for her than for me.” Why? “Because … ” He pauses and smiles. “Because I’m more of a twat!” In what way? Another smile. “I’m not going to tell you that, am I?”
Sheen’s break in America came when he was spotted by a casting director who told him he would be perfect for a new project. Ironically, it was to play former British prime minister Tony Blair in a British TV drama called The Deal, directed by British film-maker Stephen Frears and shot in Britain. The Deal led to Frears’s The Queen, about Elizabeth II’s frigid response to the death of Diana, Princess of Wales leading to a crisis for the monarchy. Again he played Blair, this time riding to the rescue of the royals. The movie was nominated for six Oscars (Helen Mirren won best actress) and he never struggled in America again.
The longer he lived in LA, however, the more rooted he felt to Port Talbot. And the further he travelled, around the world or just in Britain, the better he understood how disadvantaged it was. “If you’re in Port Talbot one day and then the next you’re in a little town in Oxfordshire where David Cameron is the MP, it’s fairly obvious there are very different setups there. And that was connected to a political awakening.” He started to read up on Welsh history. In 2017, he returned his OBE because he thought it would be hypocritical to hold on to an honour celebrating empire when he was giving a Raymond Williams lecture on the “tortured history” of the relationship between Wales and the British state.
He began to reassess his past. “I became more aware of the opportunity I’d had in an area where there wasn’t much opportunity. At a certain point you go, Oh, people are having to volunteer to make that youth theatre happen that I’m a product of.” You’d taken it for granted? “Completely. I was happy to think everything I was doing was because of my own talent and I was making my own opportunities, and as I got older I thought maybe that’s not the whole story.”
In 2016, the long-running American TV series Masters of Sex, in which Sheen starred as the pioneering sex researcher William Masters, came to an end. Lily was now 17 and preparing for college. “I suddenly thought, Oh, I can go home now.” And six years ago he finally did – to Baglan, a village adjoining Port Talbot. Since then he has been involved in loads of community projects.
He mentions a few in passing, but he doesn’t tell me he sold his two homes (one in America, the other in Wales) to ensure the 2019 Homeless World Cup went ahead as planned in Cardiff. Nor does he mention that a couple of years ago he started Mab Gwalia (translating to “Son of Wales”), which proudly labels itself a “resistance movement”. On its website, it states: “Mab Gwalia believes that opportunity should not only be available to those who can afford it. The ambition is to build a movement that makes change.” Its projects have supported homeless people, veterans, preschool children on the autism spectrum, kids in care, victims of high-cost credit, and local journalism, which is a particular passion. “In the early 1970s in Port Talbot, there was something like 12 different newspapers. There are none now. None. Communities don’t feel represented, don’t feel their voice is heard and don’t know if the information they’re getting about what’s going on in the community is correct or not. Those are terrifying things, and without local journalism that’s what happens.”
Perhaps surprisingly, he’s even found time for the day job. Earlier this year, he played Nye Bevan in Tim Pryce’s new play about the founding father of the NHS. He also made his directing debut with The Way, a dystopian, and prophetic, three-part TV drama about the closure of the Port Talbot steelworks that results in local riots spreading across the country. How does he feel about the rioting that has scarred the country in recent weeks? “I feel the same way I think most people do. It was awful and terrifying. I worry about how much a hard-right agenda that has been growing for a long time has moved further and further into the mainstream and has clearly got more connected. It’s frightening.” Does he think the new Labour government can deliver the positive change it promises? “Pppfft.”He exhales heavily. “More optimistic than the Conservatives being in power.” Who did he vote for? “That’s my God-given right to remain a secret, isn’t it? It wasn’t the Tories!”
I ask if he’s in favour of Welsh independence. “I don’t know how I feel about it one way or the other, but I would like there to be an open discussion about everything that entails. The problem is when it gets shut down and you don’t get to talk about it.”
Would he ever go into politics? He looks appalled at the idea. “Oh God, no. No! I’d beawful.”Why?“Because I don’t want to say what other people are telling me to say if I don’t agree with it. Look at all those people who voted against the two-child benefit cap and had the whip taken away from them. That’s bollocks. People say I should go into politics because I’m passionate about things and I speak my mind. But then you get into politics and you’re not allowed to do that any more. I’ve got far more of a platform as myself. I can say what I want to say.”
Fair enough. I’ve got another idea. A couple of years ago he gave an inspired motivational speech for the Wales football team before the 2022 men’s World Cup, on the TV show A League of Their Own. Would he take the job as Wales manager if offered it? He looks just as horrified as the idea of a life in politics. “No!” Why not? “Because it’s a completely different profession. You need to know about football. I played football when I was younger, but I wouldn’t have a clue. Wouldn’t. Have. A. Clue. Just because you can make a speech doesn’t mean you’d be any good at that sort of stuff.” He says he was embarrassed about the speech initially, but now feels proud of it. “Schools get in touch and say, ‘We’ve been studying it with the class.’ I put hidden things in. There are rabbit holes you can go down.” He quotes the line, “You sons of Speed” and tells me that’s a reference to the idolised former manager and player Gary Speed who took his life in 2011. You can hear the emotion in his voice.
I’ve been waiting for Sheen to mention the new TV drama about Prince Andrew. Most actors direct you to the project they’re promoting as soon as you sit down with them. Let’s talk about the new show, I eventually say.
This is already the second drama about the Andrew interview. Did he know that Scoop, which came out earlier this year, was already in the works? “Yes, I knew before I agreed to do this.” Was it a race to see which would get out first? “There was no race, no. We always knew ours would come out after.” What would he say to people who think it’s pointless watching another film on the same subject? “Ours is a three-part story, so it’s able to breathe a lot more. There’s a lot more to it. In our story, Andrew and Emily are the main characters whereas they were very much the supporting ones in the other one.”
Did it change his opinion of Andrew? “No. It showed the dangers of being in a bubble, having talked about being in a bubble myself! The dangers of privilege.” He talks with sensitivity about Andrew’s downfall. “The thing that really struck me was when Andrew came back from the Falklands there was no one more revered, in a way. I didn’t realise his job was to fly helicopters to draw enemy fire away from the ships. I couldn’t believe they would put a royal in that position, so he was genuinely courageous. He was good-looking, a prince, and had everything going for him. Since then everything has just gone down and down and down.” He’s had so little control over his life, Sheen says. Take his relationships. “He was told he couldn’t be with [American actor] Koo Stark any more because of the controversy. He was essentially told he had to divorce Sarah Ferguson because the royal family, particularly Philip allegedly, was concerned that she would bring the family into disrepute.”
Did he end up feeling more empathetic towards him? “No!” he says sharply. Then he softens slightly. “Well, empathy? I felt I understood a bit more – because that’s my job – about what was going on. But he’s incredibly privileged and has exploited that. It seems like he has a lot taken away from him but probably rightfully so.”
A Very Royal Scandal is like The Crown in that it’s great drama but you’re never sure what’s real. Are Andrew’s lines simply made up? “It’s a combination of research and stories out there, and little snippets and invention.” While Emily Maitlis is an executive producer, Andrew most certainly is not. “Well, that’s the real difficulty for our story,” Sheen says. “On the one hand, you’ve got Emily as an exec, so you know everything to do with her is coming from the horse’s mouth. But everything to do with Andrew, not only is it really difficult to get the actual stuff, also we don’t know what he did.” He pauses. “Or didn’t do.” He’s talking about Virginia Giuffre’s allegation that Andrew raped her, which he denied. In the end, Giuffre’s civil case was dropped after an out-of-court settlement was reached on no admission of liability by Prince Andrew, with Giuffre reportedly paid around £12m.
I had assumed Sheen would be a staunch republican, but he doesn’t feel strongly either way. “There are lots of positives about royals, and lots of negatives.” His bugbear is that the heir to the throne gets to be Prince of Wales. “Personally, I would want the title of Prince of Wales to be given back to Wales to decide what to do with it, and I definitely think there’s a lot of wealth that could be used better.”
The biggest change for Sheen since returning to Wales is his family life. In 2019, he revealed that he had a new partner, the Swedish actor Anna Lundberg, that she was 25 years younger than him, and that she was pregnant. They now have two daughters – Lyra who is coming up to five, and two-year-old Mabli. As well as Staged, the couple have also appeared together on Gogglebox. They look so happy, nestling into each other, laughing at the same funnies, tearing up over the same heartbreakers. She also seems naturally funny. Given that two of his former partners (Sarah Silverman and Aisling Bea) are comedians, have all his exes had a good sense of humour? He thinks about it. “Yes. Yeah, you’ve got to have a laugh, haven’t you?” And he’s always got on well with them after splitting up? “Yeah, pretty much.”
When asked about the age difference between Lundberg and him on The Assembly, he acknowledged that they were surprised when they got together. “We were both aware it would be difficult and challenging. Ultimately, we felt it was worth it because of how we felt about each other, and now we have two beautiful children together.” He also said that being an older father worried him at times. “It makes me sad, thinking about the time I won’t have with them.”
Does being a dad of such tiny kids make him feel young or old? “Both,” he says. “My body feels very old. But everything else feels much younger. I’m 55 and it’s knackering running around after little kids. Just physically, it’s very demanding. And I’m at a point in my life where I’m aware of my physical limitations now. But in other ways it’s completely liberating, and I’m able to appreciate it more now.”
Has he learned about fatherhood from the first time round? “Yeah, I think so. I’m around more now. That’s a big part of it. When Lily was young, I was in my early 30s and doing films for the first time, so Kate would stay in Los Angeles with Lily and I would go off and do whatever.” Did Beckinsale resent that? “I don’t know that she resented it. Kate was doing better than me in terms of profile at the time, so it was different. Given that we then split up and I saw Lily even less, I very much regretted being away as much. So this time I wanted to make sure that wasn’t the case. That’s partly why I’ve set up a Welsh production company. I don’t want to work away from them as much.”
Talking of which, he says, what’s the time? “I’ve got to get back to my kids.”
On his way out, I ask what advice he would give his younger self. He says he was asked that recently and gave a glib answer. “I said buy stock in Apple.” What should he have said? He thinks about it, and finally says he’d have no advice for his younger self. He’d rather reverse the question, and think what his younger self would say to him if he tried to advise him.
“I saw an amazing clip of Stephen Colbert saying your life is an accumulation of every bad choice you’ve made and every good choice you’ve made, and the great challenge of life is to say yes to it. To say, ‘I love living, I embrace living.’ And in order to do that you have to embrace all the pain, all the grief, all the sadness, all the fucking mistakes because without that you don’t have all the other stuff.” He’s on a roll now, louder and more passionate by the word. “And I’d hate it if someone came and went, ‘Don’t do this, no do that.’ Then you just sail through your life. It would be death, wouldn’t it? So I’d tell my older self to go fuck himself.”
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The magic of Michael Sheen
Michael Sheen is a pretty special person and I appreciate the way he puts his money, literally, where his mouth is, as a 'not-for-profit' actor.
PlayMichael Sheen on Prince Andrew, Port Talbot and Keir Starmer | The News Agents Starting at around 12:09, Michael gives his view of the need for radical change in the face of capitalism, not only for his home base of Wales, but around the world. He’s a pretty special person and I appreciate the way he puts his money, literally, where his mouth is, as a ‘not-for-profit’ actor.
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Michael Sheen making all welsh people absolutely feral
#cymraeg#wales#wales being extra#michael sheen the prince of port talbot#yma o hyd#fifa world cup#sons of speed
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Chapters: 10/15 Fandom: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Good Omens (TV), Good Omens (Book) - Fandom Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Niaphael/Zoley Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens), Niaphael, Zoley, Michael Sheen, Terry Pratchett, Neil Gaiman, Lilith (Good Omens), Lilith Ashtoreth - Character, Young Lilith Ashtoreth, Niaphael is Aziraphaele, Crowley is Zoley, Jesus Additional Tags: Good Omens AU, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Alternate Universe - Good Omens Fusion, The gospel of us, The passion of port talbot - Freeform, The Gospel of Us (2012) - Freeform, Metafiction, Crossover, Good Omens (TV) - Freeform, Canon - Good Omens (Book & TV Combination), apocadidn't, Seven Deadly Sins, Seven Heavenly Virtues, Noah's Ark, Edens (as in plural), Earths (as in plural), Zoley rescuing children, Mentions of Sex, Unicorns, Lilith (Good Omens) - Freeform, Lilith Ashtoreth, Nativity story - a bit different, Christmas, The story of the first Christmas, Niaphael is a bratty bottom, Niaphael is a pillow princes, Zoley is a service-top, top/bottom sex, Zoley has two penises, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub Series: Part 1 of An angel and a demon and the real reality Summary:
After having watched Good Omens on Amazon (I did read the book many years ago) I found out that an actor, I had watched before as Nero and as Lycian in the Underworld and a few other places, now was an angel. Michael Sheen has the ability to be a chameleon and to change, so you can hardly recognize him. I saw clips of him in 'Tron' and 'The Queen'. So yes - I am fascinated. I knew David Tennant from 'Doctor Who' and from 'Broadchurch' even if I haven't seen all of it. And then I found this amazing piece of work (thank you 'YouTube') from 2011: The Gospel of US. I have ordered the film, but not received it yet. And it sort of rattled in my head - together with Aziraphale and Crowley. And this story in many parts sort of grew out of that fascination - and became much bigger than intended. But here it is.
We will meet two celestial creatures - somehow familiar and there will be other parts of the story - connected to our reality.
And please be kind if there are mistakes (there probably will be) because I am not English - and 'Good Omens' belong to Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman.
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New Post has been published on https://freenews.today/2020/12/29/michael-sheen-i-gave-up-obe-to-air-views-on-monarchy-without-being-a-hypocrite/
Michael Sheen: I gave up OBE to air views on monarchy without being a 'hypocrite'
Actor Michael Sheen has revealed he gave up his OBE so he could air his views on the Royal Family without being labelled a “hypocrite”.
The 51-year-old star, who has portrayed the likes of Tony Blair and Sir David Frost on-screen and Hamlet on stage, was made an OBE in the 2009 New Year Honours for his services to drama.
But he said the decision to give it back was prompted by researching the history of his native Wales and its relationship with the British state for his 2017 Raymond Williams lecture.
Sheen, from Port Talbot, told newspaper columnist Owen Jones that the “crash course” made him realise he could not both deliver his lecture and hold on to the honour.
“In my research to do that lecture, I learnt a lot about Welsh history,” he said.
Image: Sheen made the decision after researching Welsh history as part of a lecture he was giving
“And by the time I’d finished writing that lecture on this laptop that I’m talking to you on right now, I remember sitting there going, ‘well I have a choice – I either don’t give this lecture and hold on to my OBE or I give this lecture and I have to give my OBE back’.”
The Queen actor explained that Wales and England’s shared history was still a point of contention for many Welsh people.
He referenced the decision to rename the second Severn Crossing the Prince of Wales bridge in 2018, with a petition against the move receiving more than 30,000 signatures.
“These things have power,” Sheen said.
“The idea of the Prince of Wales and that being an Englishman and the history of that.”
He added: “Why Edward made his son the Prince of Wales (was) because it was part of keeping down the Welsh rebellion.
“These are things that happened so long ago but these things are resonant.”
Charles, the current Prince of Wales, is set to forfeit the title when he ascends the throne.
Sheen suggested it would be a “really meaningful and powerful gesture for that title to no longer be held in the same way as it has before”.
He said he chose not to announce his decision to hand back the honour in 2017 as he feared some people would find it insulting.
“I didn’t mean any disrespect but I just realised I’d be a hypocrite if I said the things I was going to say in the lecture about the nature of the relationship between Wales and the British state,” he said.
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Michael Sheen: Prince Andrew, Port Talbot and why I quit Hollywood
When Michael Sheen had an idea for a dystopian TV series based in his home town of Port Talbot, in which riots erupt when the steel works close, he had no idea said works would actually close — a month before the show came to air. “Devastating,” he says, simply, of last month’s decision by Tata Steel to shut the plant’s two blast furnaces and put 2,800 jobs at risk.
“Those furnaces are part of our psyche,” he says. “When the Queen died we talked about how psychologically massive it was for the country because people couldn’t imagine life without her. The steel works are like that for Port Talbot.”
Sheen’s show — The Way — was never meant to be this serious. The BBC1 three-parter is directed by Sheen, was written by James Graham and has the montage king Adam Curtis on board as an executive producer. The plot revolves around a family who, when the steel works are closed by foreign investors, galvanise the town into a revolt that leads to the Welsh border being shut. Polemical, yes, but it has a lightness of touch. “A mix of sitcom and war film,” Sheen says, beaming.
But that was then. Now it has become the most febrile TV show since, well, Mr Bates vs the Post Office. “We wanted to get this out quickly,” Sheen says. With heavy surveillance, police clamping down on protesters and nods to Westminster abandoning parts of the country, the series could be thought of as a tad political. “The concern was if it was too close to an election the BBC would get nervous.”
I meet Sheen in London, where he is ensconced in the National Theatre rehearsing for his forthcoming starring role in Nye, a “fantasia” play based on the life of the NHS founder, Labour’s Aneurin “Nye” Bevan. He is dressed down, with stubble and messy hair, and is a terrific raconteur, with a lot to discuss. As well as The Way and Nye, this year the actor will also transform himself into Prince Andrew for a BBC adaptation of the Emily Maitlis Newsnight interview.
Sheen has played a rum bunch, from David Frost to Tony Blair and Chris Tarrant. And we will get to Bevan and Andrew, but first Wales, where Sheen, 55, was born in 1969 and, after a stint in Los Angeles, returned to a few years ago. He has settled outside Port Talbot with his partner, Anna Lundberg, a 30-year-old actress, and their two children. Sheen’s parents still live in the area, so the move was partly for family, but mostly to be a figurehead. The actor has been investing in local arts, charities and more, putting his money where his mouth is to such an extent that there is a mural of his face up on Forge Road.
“It’s home,” Sheen says, shrugging, when I ask why he abandoned his A-list life for southwest Wales. “I feel a deep connection to it.” The seed was sown in 2011 when he played Jesus in Port Talbot in an epic three-day staging of the Passion, starring many locals who were struggling with job cuts and the rising cost of living in their town. “Once you become aware of difficulties in the area you come from you don’t have to do anything,” he says, with a wry smile. “You can live somewhere else, visit family at Christmas and turn a blind eye to injustice. It doesn’t make you a bad person, but I’d seen something I couldn’t unsee. I had to apply myself, and I might not have the impact I’d like, but the one thing that I can say is that I’m doing stuff. I know I am — I’m paying for it!”
The Way is his latest idea to boost the area. The show, which was shot in Port Talbot last year, employed residents in front of and behind the camera. The extras in a scene in which fictional steel workers discuss possible strike action came from the works themselves. How strange they will feel watching it now. The director shakes his head. “It felt very present and crackling.”
One line in the show feels especially crucial: “The British don’t revolt, they grumble.” How revolutionary does Sheen think Britain is? “It happens in flare-ups,” he reasons. “You could say Brexit was a form of it and there is something in us that is frustrated and wants to vent. But these flare-ups get cracked down, so the idea of properly organised revolution is hard to imagine. Yet the more anger there is, the more fear about the cost of living crisis. Well, something’s got to give.”
I mention the Brecon Beacons. “Ah, yes, Bannau Brycheiniog,” Sheen says with a flourish. Last year he spearheaded the celebration of the renaming of the national park to Welsh, which led some to ponder whether Sheen might go further in the name of Welsh nationalism. Owen Williams, a member of the independence campaigners YesCymru, described him to me as “Nye Bevan via Che Guevara” and added that the actor might one day be head of state in an independent Wales.
Sheen bursts out laughing. “Right!” he booms. “Well, for a long time [the head of state] was either me or Huw Edwards, so I suppose that’s changed.” He laughs again. “Gosh. I don’t know what to say.” Has he, though, become a sort of icon for an independent Wales? “I’ve never actually spoken about independence,” he says. “The only thing I’ve said is that it’s worth a conversation. Talking about independence is a catalyst for other issues that need to be talked about. Shutting that conversation down is of no value at all. People say Wales couldn’t survive economically. Well, why not? And is that good? Is that a good reason to stay in the union?”
On a roll, he talks about how you can’t travel from north to south Wales by train without going into England because the rail network was set up to move stuff out of Wales, not round it. He mentions the collapse of local journalism and funding cuts to National Theatre Wales, and says these are the conversations he wants to have — but where in Wales are they taking place?
So, for Sheen, the discussion is about thinking of Wales as independent in identity, not necessarily as an independent state? “As a living entity,” he says, is how he wants people to think about his country. “It’s much more, for me, about exploring what that cultural identity of now is, rather than it being all about the past,” he says. “We had a great rugby team in the 1970s, but it’s not the 1970s anymore and, yes, male-voice choirs make us cry, but there are few left. Mines aren’t there either. All the things that are part of the cultural identity of Wales are to do with the past and, for me, it’s much more about exploring what is alive about Welsh identity now.”
You could easily forget that Sheen is an actor. He calls himself a “not for profit” thesp, meaning he funds social projects, from addiction to disability sports. “I juggle things more,” he says. “Also I have young kids again and I don’t want to be away much.”
Sheen has an empathetic face, a knack of making the difficult feel personable. And there are two big roles incoming — a relief to fans.
Which leads us to Prince Andrew. “Of course it does.” This year he plays the troubled duke in A Very Royal Scandal — a retelling of the Emily Maitlis fiasco with Ruth Wilson as the interviewer. Does the show go to Pizza Express in Woking? “No,” Sheen says, grinning. Why play the prince? He thinks about this a lot. “Inevitably you bring humanity to a character — that’s certainly what I try to do.” He pauses. “I don’t want people to say, ‘It was Sheen who got everybody behind Andrew again.’ But I also don’t want to do a hatchet job.”
So what is he trying to do? “Well, it is a story about privilege really,” he says. “And how easy it is for privilege to exploit. We’ve found a way of keeping the ambiguity, because, legally, you can’t show stuff that you cannot prove, but whether guilty or not, his privilege is a major factor in whatever exploitation was going on. Beyond the specifics of Andrew and Epstein, no matter who you are, privilege has the potential to exploit someone. For Andrew, it’s: ‘This girl is being brought to me and I don’t really care where she comes from, or how old she is, this is just what happens for people like me.’”
It must have been odd having the prince and Bevan — the worst and best of our ruling classes — in his head at the same time. What, if anything, links the men? “What is power and what can you do with it?” Sheen muses, which seems to speak to his position in Port Talbot too. Nye at the National portrays the Welsh politician on his deathbed, in an NHS hospital, moving through his memories while doped up on meds. Sheen wants the audience to think: “Is there a Bevan in politics now and, if not, why not?”
Which takes us back to The Way. At the start one rioter yells about wanting to “change everything” — he means politically, sociologically. However, assuming that changing everything is not possible, what is the one thing Sheen would change? “Something practical? Not ‘I want world peace’. I would create a people’s chamber as another branch of government — like the Lords, there’d be a House of People, representing their community. Our political system has become restrictive and nonrepresentational, so something to open that up would be good.”
The actor is a thousand miles from his old Hollywood life. “It’d take a lot for me to work in America again — my life is elsewhere.” It is in Port Talbot instead. “The last man on the battlefield” is how one MP describes the steel works in The Way, and Sheen is unsure what happens when that last man goes. “Some people say it’s to do with net zero aims,” he says about the closure. “Others blame Brexit. But, ultimately, the people of Port Talbot have been let down — and there is no easy answer about what comes next.”
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Michael Sheen: ‘I find it very hard to accept actors playing Welsh characters when they aren’t Welsh’
Has he taken the concept of authentic casting to a whole new level? Ahead of his latest BBC drama Best Interests, the star explains all
Michael Sheen has had it with the Prince of Wales. Not the man, but the title. “I think it’s ridiculous,” he says. “It’s just silly. I see no reason why the title should continue. Certainly not with someone who’s not Welsh.”
“That’s not the majority view,” he adds, with resignation. “So, whatever the majority of people want, I’m sure will continue.”
The star of Frost/Nixon and proud son of Port Talbot is chatting via video from a bucolic spot close to his hometown (a deer has just wandered into view), but even at a distance, it’s not hard to see that Sheen is a man ofstrong convictions.
He has spoken in the past about the opportunity to retire the title after the death of Elizabeth II, as a gesture to “put some of the wrongs of the past right”. In 2020, he returned the OBE he was “honoured” to have received in 2009 when he felt it would make him a hypocrite to give a lecture about how the English king Edward I “put a stranglehold on Wales” at the turn of the 14th century.
When we chat, he’s about to begin shooting his TV directing debut The Way – co-created with playwright James Graham and documentary-maker Adam Curtis, about a family caught in a civil uprising, set in and around Port Talbot. The BBC project is the first from the production company that he set up with Sherlock producer Bethan Jones to focus on telling Welsh stories because, “You can shout about how bad it is, but if you want to see something be different then do it, you know?”
The 54-year-old is one of the actors of his generation, a stage star in his twenties (The Telegraph’s Charles Spencer called him “outrageously charismatic”) who went on to create unforgettable screen portraits of Tony Blair (The Queen, The Deal), Chris Tarrant (Quiz) and Brian Clough (The Damned United), alongside his David Frost in Peter Morgan’s play and film about the 1977 interviews that brought down the US president. Recently, Sheen has gained a whole new tranche of fans playing a very arch angel opposite David Tennant’s insouciant demon in Amazon’s Good Omens – not technically gay characters according to the Terry Pratchett-Neil Gaiman source novel, but seemingly in love.
Tennant and he have a natural chemistry on and off screen, Sheen says, adding that “he stops me being too grumpy”. He is a little on the grumpy side. In one exchange, in which I suggest he is a supporter of Welsh independence, he responds hotly: “Show me where it says that. I don’t believe I’ve ever said that.” Sam Mendes compared Sheen to fellow Welsh stars Anthony Hopkins and Richard Burton – “fiery, mercurial, unpredictable”.
But he shares a warm screen chemistry with Sharon Horgan in Jack Thorne’s moving new four-part drama Best Interests. They play the parents of a child with cerebral palsy, the adorable Marnie (played by Dublin actor Niamh Moriarty), who suffers a seizure that leaves her without brain function. The couple find themselves on opposite sides of an unbearable decision: whether or not to switch off their daughter’s life support. Very few will make it through the drama without tears, but the issues it raises will be familiar to all who have followed recent legal battles over 12-year-old Archie Battersbee and baby Alfie Evans.
Best Interests is “heartbreaking” at times, he admits, which makes the humour that he and Horgan bring to it all the more important. They hadn’t worked together before. “That relationship had to do a lot of heavy lifting. Sharon and I didn’t know each other very well … but straight from the off, we had a very similar sense of humour and made each other laugh.” Moriarty’s is a break-out performance – one scene involving make-up beautifully captures the parent-child relationship. She has cerebral palsy that affects her legs, a condition called spastic diplegia, but she’s not the only disabled actor in the piece.
Bafta-winner Lenny Rush, 14, who in real-life has a condition that affects his growth, is brilliant as George, who sets his cap at Marnie. Mat Fraser, who plays a legal advocate in Best Interests and portrayed Shakespeare’s Richard III in 2017, has a thalidomide impairment, which likely gave him an insight into Richard’s sense of “my deformity”.
Thorne, who experienced a chronic medical condition in his twenties, has said in the past that disabled people have been “utterly and totally” failed by the TV industry. In Best Interests, one parent of a child with a disability states baldly that people “hate” disabled people. “I think people can feel very uncomfortable around people with disabilities,” Sheen says. “A lot of the time it’s just to do with ignorance about, ‘Oh gosh, I don’t know, what should I do?’ It can make interaction quite awkward at times, and it can bring out people’s fears.”
The fact that there were several people with disabilities working on the project, he says, was striking because it brought home how rarely he had seen it before. It leads into a discussion of how far actors can credibly play identities they don’t personally inhabit. Sheen has thought about it: “You know, seeing people playing Welsh characters who are not Welsh, I find, it’s very hard for me to accept that. Not particularly on a point of principle, but just knowing that that’s not the case.
“That’s a very different end of the spectrum, but a part like Richard III is such a great character to play, it would be sad to think that that character, you know, is no longer available or appropriate for actors to play who don’t have disabilities, but that’s because I’m just not used to it yet, I suppose. Because I fully accept that I’m not going to be playing Othello any time soon.
“Again, it’s not particularly a point of principle, but personally, I haven’t seen many actors who have come from quite privileged backgrounds being particularly compelling as people from working-class backgrounds. If you haven’t experienced something, you know, the extreme example is, well, if you haven’t murdered someone, can you play a murderer?”
In 2021, it was reported that Sheen intended to be a “not-for-profit” actor, after selling his own properties to ensure the Homeless World Cup that he had organised in Cardiff in 2019 went ahead when funders withdrew. So, what is a not-for-profit actor?
“There’s no such thing,” he says. “In that interview, I talked about how the ideal I was aiming towards was working like a not-for-profit company. When I put the money into the Homeless World Cup, since then I only owe money, so in terms of profits, there are no profits. I put as much of the money I make as I possibly can into either funding and supporting what other people are doing that I believe in, or starting up projects myself.”
It’s a measure of Sheen’s confidence that he knows the parts will keep coming. He has become a father again in his 50s; he and his partner, 28-year-old Swedish actor Anna Lundberg, have two young daughters. “My knees creak a lot more,” he says. “It’s a lot harder to get up and down off the floor when you’re playing with the baby.”
Sheen also has a grown-up daughter, Lily Mo Sheen, 24, from an earlier relationship with British actress Kate Beckinsale. “When my eldest daughter was born, I was still trying to make my way in my career and having to make harder choices about whether to work away from home and how much time to be away and all that stuff,” he says. “This time around, that’s not as difficult as I’m more established as an actor. Physically, it’s hard. But the one thing that is always the same is, you know, poo doesn’t smell any better.”
#Michael Sheen#Interview#Best Interests#the joys of fatherhood#you can feel his enthusiasm#I'm not sure this interview will help him to promote his future projects
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Michael Sheen - keynote at the Raymond Williams Memorial Lecture 2017
Yffach gols. Anghygoel.
There is so much in this yet it is so clear and so concise and so *flails helplessly* just bloody spot on
'As if nothing else had ever happened'
#michael sheen the prince of port talbot#how to inspire a nation in a minute and a half#hair bleach and rousing speech#aziraphale#michael sheen#Wales#Cymru#Gwalia#Cofiwch#Welsh History
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Michael Sheen just performed a new World Cup speech to Wales' stars and it's somehow even better than the original
Michael Sheen has performed a fantastic new rendition of his now iconic World Cup speech to stunned Wales players at their Vale of Glamorgan training base.
Sheen's impromptu speech on sports-comedy panel show A League of Their Own earlier this month rightly went viral after he was asked by host Romesh Ranganathan to deliver a hypothetical pre-match team talk to Wales players ahead of their World Cup encounter with England.
The speech, brimming with passion and delivered with gusto, sent shivers down the spines of every Welsh man, woman and child in the land, as well as many people who aren't from this small corner of the world, which you can read about here.
Wales boss Rob Page admitted that when he first watched the initial speech from A League of Their Own, it made him "well up" and he wanted to get Sheen into camp as soon as possible. And on Monday morning, just hours after Wales were defeated by Poland at Cardiff City Stadium in the Nations League, Sheen entered the camp to deliver yet another spine-tingling new speech.
Port Talbot-born Sheen, an acting icon known for his work in The Queen, The Damned United, Twilight, Frost/Nixon and much, much more, was presented with a Wales jersey, with his name and the number 22 on the back, before he addressed the squad.
"When I did the speech on A League of Their Own, it was specifically for the England game," Sheen began. "But I couldn't come and see you and not give you something to go with.
"My song is the words I speak. So I will try and customise what I did before and give you something to take with you."
Sheen's new rendition was far broader and included nods to the Merthyr Rising and the power of the national anthem. But it was very much centred around the team having the backing of the whole nation when they take the field for that first match in Qatar.
Sheen's speech finished and it left a moment or two of stunned silence around a large conference suite at the team's Vale of Glamorgan training HQ, before rapturous applause broke out.
Sheen was then embraced by Page and Gareth Bale, who presented him with a personalised, commemorative bottle, emblazoned with the words 'Yma o Hyd', before the squad signed his shirt.
Michael Sheen's new speech in full
Yma o hyd, yma o hyd,
I hear the voices singing,
Speed your journey, bois bach,
One nation, singing with one voice,
A song of hope, a song of courage,
A victory song that floats through the valleys, like a red mist,
Rolls over the mountain tops, like crimson thunder,
A red storm is coming to the gates of Qatar,
It sparkles and crackles, with the spirit of '58 and Jimmy Murphy's boys,
It turns the pages of the history books,
And finds Rob's page, waiting, still to be written,
What would you write in there, boys?
Dare you write your names on that page?
64 years and far from home, far from the old land of our fathers,
Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau,
When you are standing there listening to that song of songs start up,
Shoulder to shoulder with the lads in this room,
Team-mates, friends, brothers, princes, all selected by the divine,
When you are standing there, side by side, and that holy song begins,
Close your eyes and feel the breath on the back of your necks,
Because that's every man, woman and child in this old land standing there with you,
At your backs, that's the people of Wales, your people,
Feel their breath quickening with yours,
Hear their blood drumming in your ears,
Pounding through your heart,
Bursting through your chest,
That's the blood of Wales, your blood, red as the ancient book of dreams,
Red as the rising flag of Merthyr,
Red as the great wall of Gwalia,
Because that's what you carry with you, boys,
Across 64 years, across half the span of the world,
It's there, on your chest,
It's there, at your back,
It's there, at your side,
They always say, we are too small, too, slow, too weak, too full of fear,
But yma o hyd, you sons of Speed,
With that red wall around us,
We are still here.
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Michael Sheen (old) interview
He’s played the prime minister and the messiah – now Michael Sheen is plumbing the psyche of the original man in black. Caroline McGinn asks him about the dark side.
It’s been a big year for Michael Sheen. A lifechanger, in fact. The 42-year-old actor is widely admired for his uncanny ability to play real-life characters: a Bambi-ish Tony Blair in a trilogy of films that included ‘The Queen’; David Frost for Peter Morgan’s play-turned-movie ‘Frost/Nixon’; and most recently, a demon-ridden Brian Clough in ‘The Damned United’. But no previous role has come close to the Christ-like leader Sheen played in ‘The Passion’ in his South Wales home town this Easter: an epic 72-hour piece of community theatre which ended in Sheen being crucified on a local roundabout.
‘The Passion’, a local take on the Gospel commissioned by the storming new National Theatre of Wales, was more than just a play. It was a collective story that Sheen probably couldn’t have told anywhere but in Port Talbot, a town divided by the roaring M4 and dominated by a giant steelworks that was once the largest employer in Wales; a place where churchgoing and storytelling are still alive. It’s also his parents’ home. Sheen was so moved that talking about it makes him choke up. ‘I did this seven-mile procession with the cross,’ he recalls, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. ‘It was boiling hot. There were 12,000-15,000 people. And I was seeing these bare-chested tattooed blokes standing outside pubs with pints, with kids, with tears in their eyes going, “Go on, Michael, you can do it!” It’s quite rare to be in the middle of an experience knowing it is probably the most meaningful one I will ever have in my life. Something in me relaxed after that, I think. I could say, “If I died tomorrow, I did that.”’
Over a glass of red wine in the bar at the Young Vic, where he is about to play Hamlet, Sheen does seem completely relaxed: eager, open and very Welsh, with his squiggle of dark brown hair and his neat, expressive hands. He has a shapeshifter’s face: mobile, not memorable, too blurry and mercurial for a romantic lead. And it is a pleasure to hear his real voice: un-damned by Clough’s nasal, northern scorn or Blair’s prim inflections, it is a gloriously unstoppable lilting flow which seems, to my English ears, to come straight from the Valleys.
Sheen currently lives in LA to be close to his 12-year-old daughter with ex-partner Kate Beckinsale. He is an unlikely denizen of La La Land, with his bike helmet, his puppyish friendliness and his lack of pretensions. His spectacular return to his roots at Easter has, he says, redefined who he thinks he is, and what he wants to do with his work: something which he expresses in probably the longest sentence I’ve ever heard anyone deliver. ‘“The Passion” did for me what I hoped it could do for everyone in the town, potentially, which is to experience your life and your home in a different way, because I think there is a tendency – and I have it, and I notice other people have it too, probably everyone has it but certainly people who come from quite challenged areas – there’s a sense that your life is of no interest, that your story is mundane and there is no, for want of a better word, numinosity, no transcendence, and so to be able to tell a story about the biggest things there can probably be, a version of the “greatest story ever told” in the town that is seen to be the least likely town for that to happen in, then the people in that town, every time they go around that roundabout, which is many times, can go, “Not only is that where I get fish and chips, it’s also where the crucifixion happened,” and the everyday becomes transcendent – to something that is miraculous.’
Thanks to Sheen’s great-grandfather, street preaching runs in the family. But the starry-eyed idealism behind doing a passion play in Port Talbot, to reach thousands of people who would never set foot in a theatre, might easily have backfired. It was an unglamorous risk for a local bloke-turned-Hollywood big shot to take. You can’t imagine the area’s other famous filmmaking sons, ultra-cool customer Antony Hopkins or hard-living Richard Burton, pulling it off – though Burton did enjoy making a splash on the local beach with Liz Taylor and his private helicopter. ‘The Passion’ was supposed to shine a light on the miracle workers who do what Sheen calls the ‘unseemly’ work of care: for the old, the sick, the battered wives and the young offenders. For it to work, its makers had to gain the trust of the town.
‘After the Last Supper, when the Manics played, I was put on trial on the back of a truck and the crowd took over,’ he says. ‘It was at that moment I realised they understood it was their story. It was frightening and exhilarating. We didn’t know what was going to happen. Along the procession route people put photos of things they’d lost. Then, on the cross, I did a litany. Of things I remembered, or that I’d gathered from people, of people and places that don’t exist any more.’ It was Sheen’s epic personal connection to South Wales, where his dad once worked as a Jack Nicholson impersonator, and where his great-grandfather got rich when God told him to buy a tin mine. Sheen’s codirector Bill Mitchell and writer Owen Sheers spent a year getting stories from locals, and fed them into the piece. ‘I was just a participant: we all were,’ he says. ‘My mum and dad said a woman came to their house and told them I’d called her mother’s name when I was on the cross, and it had changed something for her. The need that drama first came from was community, witness, celebration and catharsis. We were trying to find a way for that to happen on a large scale.’
The Port Talbot ‘Passion’ has already gone down in theatre history. So where do you go after scaling the twin messianic peaks of Blair and Christ? Down into the doubt-ridden depths of Hamlet, naturally, the biggest role that a young (or young-ish in this case) actor can play. Judging by Sheen’s wordflow, those famous soliloquies won’t be a problem. After all, the actor made his name on stage: he won his first professional role at the Globe opposite Vanessa Redgrave in 1991 before he had graduated from Rada.
His CV is full of monster roles: Caligula, Peer Gynt, Amadeus (playing Mozart was his break into Broadway in 1999). Clough, and even Blair and Frost, creep into that list – though he’s obviously bored of talking about the factional film roles that made him famous: ‘I’ve done relatively few characters based on real people,’ he protests, just a little bit too much. ‘I’ve been working on stage now for more years than I care to mention.’
‘Project Hamlet’ has been on the cards for a while, but Sheen was waiting ‘for the right director and the right theatre’. Unlike recent celebrity Hamlets David Tennant and Jude Law, he didn’t want to do conventional West End Shakespeare, hence the Young Vic, with its younger, mixed audience and its imaginative approach, which includes – mysteriously – reconfiguring the playing space so that ‘Hamlet’ audiences must arrive 30 minutes early to take a ‘different route’ in. Sheen’s director of choice is Ian Rickson, the ex-Royal Court boss who has helped actors achieve career-defining roles (Kristin Scott-Thomas in ‘The Seagull’; Mark Rylance in ‘Jerusalem’). Hamlet tends to demand something very personal from actors: one reason why so many of them crack up over it, though Sheen seems remarkably unfurrowed by the prospect. ‘It is,’ he says, ‘good not to have to worry about people saying, “He doesn’t sound like Hamlet.” It’s me: I’m not doing a voice or playing a character, so to speak. It’ll sound like me and look like me, a bit of Welsh mixed with a bit of posh.’
Sheen sees ‘Hamlet’ as ‘like a portal. Or a living organism in some way. Other Shakespeare plays don’t have that quality of seeming to change. “Hamlet�� works on you and sucks up everything you have. It’s a bit like looking into the abyss. What “Hamlet” makes everyone confront are all the things that are most frightening: irrationality, betrayal, madness and abandonment. It is very, very dark, and it dances along through that darkness.’
Sheen’s prince promises to be darker than most. Not just a mad Hamlet, but maybe even a bad Hamlet. ‘Me and Ian have taken a completely different approach,’ he explains. ‘The most interesting way to approach it is not to trust anything that Hamlet says, to assume that he’s an unreliable narrator. And once you do that, you realise how many assumptions there are about the play.’ Sheen cites Philip K Dick, David Lynch and Edgar Allan Poe as influences. The production will be set in a world ‘that feels as if we’re in some sort of institution’. Madness will be the keynote: ‘I discovered when working on it,’ says Sheen, ‘that it’s the first time anyone used the phrase “the mind’s eye”.’ Horatio says, “A mote it is, to trouble the mind’s eye.” Meaning a piece of grit. It sums up what I think the play is. It’s a bit of grit in the mind’s eye of the Western world. We’ve tried to expel it, by smoothing out its inconsistencies and by stopping it from being irritating. That’s a way to neutralise it and make it safer. But actually it’s the most dangerous of plays.’
Rickson and Sheen have found unorthodox inspiration in anti-psychiatrist RD Laing and G Wilson Knight, the twentieth century scholar who wrote an off-beam but brilliant essay on Hamlet, the ‘ambassador of death’ in the land of the living. ‘Laing said that if you take mad people on their own terms then maybe they’re just talking in a sort of heightened language about their lived experience,’ says Sheen. ‘And our take on “Hamlet” definitely questions the boundaries of what you would consider madness to be.’
So where do you go as an actor, after the heights of being crucified, and the depths of Hamlet’s psyche? ‘The answer to that is that I just don’t know,’ says Sheen. There are a couple of projects: Sheen says he was ‘roped in’ on a set visit to a new untitled film by cinema’s man of mystery, Terrence Malick, starring Sheen’s girlfriend and ‘Midnight in Paris’ co-star Rachel McAdams. And there’s also Wales-set thriller ‘Resistance’, out this month. But he has his heart set on directing a film about Edgar Allan Poe. ‘He was an extraordinary character. Very dark.’ The legacy of this life-changing year is a sharper, stronger passion for a live Welsh tradition: storytelling. ‘I just don’t know where you go after “The Passion” and “Hamlet”,’ says Sheen ‘But I do know that I want to tell stories that are powerful, that can reach people and equate to Greek theatre now. People still do need that. They respond to it. But you have to take risks to find them.’
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