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The
force of Firth
Interview with Colin Firth in The Sunday Telegraph, 21 May
2000.
By Helena de Bertodano
He
became a heart-throb as Mr Darcy in Pride and Prejudice; now he's cast
as a modern Darcy in the film of Bridget Jones' Diary. But what Colin Firth
really wants to do is 'odd and grotesque stuff'.
GOOD
looks can be a terrible cross to bear. Poor Colin Firth is repeatedly cast
as the handsome hero and yet this is not at all what he wants. "I've
sometimes wanted to play the stuttering masturbatory village pervert in
something and nobody wants me to do that, because they want somebody who's
got a funny nose and greasy hair."
Not
a worry, I imagine, that keeps him awake at night . . . He looks deadpan.
"It's just that I want to do interesting work," he says,
with feeling. But there is no getting away from it. Even if you slapped
a wonky nose on him and greased his hair, he is still going to be the man
who won the heart of almost every woman in the nation as Mr Darcy in Pride
and Prejudice.
To
judge by the reactions of anyone (female) who heard I was going to interview
Colin Firth, he still has their hearts. There were a couple of snide comments
from men, including one who had worked with him on a film and said he was
a "prat" and that I should beware of his "totally transparent
mock modesty".
After
watching several of his films in the name of research (it was hell but
someone had to do it), I did wonder exactly what all the fuss was about.
He does not always look quite as handsome as his Mr Darcy. In fact, he
can look quite ordinary. Never ugly, mind. In his latest film, Relative
Values, based on the Noël Coward play and due to be released on June
23, he plays the camp nephew of the Countess of Marchwood. He looks suave
and clean-cut but not, frankly, drop-dead gorgeous.
"I
actually asked to play that role because I felt it was something I hadn't
done before. Other actors tend to be associated more with the camp, wry,
pithy roles. I've tended to be associated more with seriousness, earnestness,
sullenness, intensity or paranoia."

In
the flesh, however, he looks everything the most smitten Darcymaniac could
hope for - and more. He even has the sideburns. Although nearly 40, he
appears as a younger, slimmer version of Mr Darcy and is altogether much
easier company. Instead of glowering, he smiles, even laughs. Dressed in
a blue flannel shirt, jeans and black trainers, he is all good-natured
charm and, yes, self-deprecation.
"I
tend to think that the 'looks' thing is attached to a particular role,"
he says, over coffee at Soho House in London. His voice is strangely neutral
- timeless, placeless, not especially deep, not especially soft. "My
looks aren't something that come dazzlingly through in everything I do.
I can be made to look one way or the other fairly easily . . . I am still
not recognised on the street that much."
He
admits that this is partly because he deliberately tries not to attract
attention. "I think you can project these things if you want. I
don't want to make a ludicrous comparison, but I heard a story about Marlon
Brando walking down the street with somebody who noticed that he wasn't
being recognised and who commented on the fact.This is Brando in 1962.
And Brando said: 'Well watch this.' And he just did this [Firth straightens
his shoulders and widens his eyes], and within seconds people were noticing
him. The chap who was with him said what he did was almost indiscernible.
Now I can project the hell out of myself and not get that effect in the
street. Probably."
Firth
insists that anonymity is what he prefers. "I can't imagine who
would want all that attention. I can imagine the ego inviting power, respect,
all those sorts of things. I'm not hugely ambitious in those directions.
As much as the next person, I want to be approved of, but I'm not greedy
for that stuff. It's not where life's blessings lie as far as I'm concerned.
To be bothered wherever you go - it's not a rational thing to want at all."
For
someone who claims to be so diffident, acting seems a strange choice of
career. He says that all he wants is for people to think he is a good actor.
But surely he has to be known for people to think he is good? "I
think the two things get confused. To have people say, 'He is good' is
far more valuable to me than to have people say, 'I know who he is'. I
would rather five people knew my work and thought it was good work than
five million knew me and were indifferent."
Praise,
however, has not been heaped on My Life So Far, which opened last month
and in which Firth plays the eccentric inventor father of a boy growing
up on a Scottish estate in the 1930s. One critic dismissed Firth as "stiff,
uneasy and miscast". I ask if he minded. "Well, it's not nice.
I'm very proud of what I did in that film. I like my performance in it.
I think some critics don't know anything about acting."
For
once, the affable mask slips and he becomes riled, reeling off examples
of critics who have got their facts wrong. Shades of an angry Mr Darcy
here, although perhaps Jane Austen's character would have expressed himself
less prosaically. "I just think 'Do. Your. F---ing. Homework.'
I do think critics are an essential watchdog, but if they don't check their
facts, it gets on your tits."
Contrary
to popular belief, he says, he does not mind that he has become inseparable
from Mr Darcy in the public imagination. "I shook it off the day
I walked off set. Other people may not have done so, but it is not something
I am uncomfortable with . . . I thought it was fantastic, all that stuff
about being a heart-throb."
And
just to prove it, he is returning to us as another Darcy in the film version
of Bridget Jones' Diary, by Helen Fielding, which he started filming last
week. He plays Mark Darcy, the on-off boyfriend of Bridget: Mark Darcy,
of course, was created by the writer Helen Fielding as a fantasy hero,
based on Colin Firth's television portrayal of Elizabeth Bennet's lover.
In
the book, Bridget, while waiting for Mark Darcy to ring, fantasises about
Colin Firth and watches endless re-runs of the scene in Pride and Prejudice
where Mr Darcy, tormented by his apparently unrequited love for Elizabeth
Bennet, dives fully clothed into a pond and emerges, his shirt dripping
and plastered to his chest. I ask Firth if he objected to his role in the
diary.
"Nooo.
I thought it was great. Bridget Jones is part of literary lore now and
actually to be a part of it is enormously flattering."
In
the sequel to the diary, The Edge of Reason, Bridget interviews Firth in
Rome. Fielding asked the real Firth if he would take part in the spoof
and he agreed. They had lunch together in Rome as Helen Fielding and Colin
Firth; then Fielding switched on the tape recorder and became Bridget Jones,
while Firth became an exaggerated version of himself, deflecting questions
about how many times he had to change his shirt to re-shoot the pond scene
in Pride and Prejudice, and whether he might consider splitting up with
his Italian girlfriend. "Sometimes we were laughing so much about
some of the questions we had to take breaks," says Firth.
To
the dismay of Bridget and many other women, Firth has since married Livia
Guiggioli, a documentary maker whom he met in 1996 while filming Nostromo.
He has a reputation for forming relationships on set: first Meg Tilly,
his co-star in Valmont, with whom he has a nine-year-old son, Will, and
then Jennifer Ehle, who played Elizabeth Bennet. He points out that this
has only happened when he has been unattached and, even so, very rarely.
"I
think it's quite extraordinary that people cast me as if I'm Warren Beatty:
until I met my present wife, at the age of 35, you could name two girlfriends.
Yet there's this extraordinary image of the man who goes off with his leading
lady all the time, when any 35-year-old man who can claim to have had two
past lovers is hardly a philanderer."
In
the past he has emphasised a fundamental feeling of rootlessness. Born
in Africa, where his parents were both teachers, he came to England when
he was four. Later, he went to a comprehensive in Winchester, where he
had the uncomfortable sensation of being an outsider, initially friendless
and mocked for speaking with a middle-class accent. "On the whole
I had a happy childhood, although I'm happier as an adult. But that element
of rootlessness is still there and probably will never not be there."
Marriage,
he says, has made a big difference. "I feel much more settled and
peaceful." He and Livia live in Barnsbury, north London, and Firth
spends much of the year commuting backwards and forwards from Los Angeles
to see his son. He is still on good terms with Meg Tilly and has said in
the past that the relationship broke up, not because they did not get on,
but because he could no longer stand the isolation of the log cabin in
the middle of the forest that was her home. "I had a kind of reclusive
impulse at the time, but not that reclusive."
He
puts most of his career down to luck. "I'm fortunate enough to
be the height I am [six-foot-one-and-a-half, he says]; I have a face which
is fairly adaptable and castable in lots of different directions; I am
well-spoken enough - the kind of accent that one was encouraged to learn
in drama school, Received Pronunciation, was basically my accent. My type
happened to fit into a trend in the early 1980s for the public school type.
I'm not a public schoolboy, but I was able to conform to that."
He
first came to attention in 1983, playing a homosexual public schoolboy
based on Guy Burgess, in the stage version of Another Country (he took
another role in the film), and since then has never been out of work -
although he claims he never really wanted to take the lead roles. "If
you don't mind haunting the margins, I think there is more freedom there.
It's like being a politician in opposition; that's where you can be most
sincere. But, of course, you sometimes look at people taking lead parts
and think they've got all the gravy."
Since
Pride and Prejudice, however, he has remained very much centre stage, at
least in people's minds. "I literally came into being with that
role for a lot of people." Since then he has played the Nick Hornby
role of the Arsenal fan in Fever Pitch, the cuckolded officer in The English
Patient and the foppish, hard-hearted Lord Wessex in Shakespeare in Love.
"I
do think I'm a character actor," he says. "There are a lot of
character actors who look like leading men or women. I'm not necessarily
talking about myself here - I'm thinking about someone else whose name
I won't give, someone who is basically good-looking and often cast as a
leading man but whose skills are actually to do the really quite odd and
grotesque stuff. Unless you have the right mask, you won't be given those
roles and therefore you will not be given the chance to prove your credentials
in character work. I do think a little bit of that is true of me."
He
mentions an article he read recently which congratulated him on accepting
the role of Mark Darcy. "It said 'Thank God, he's finally smelling
the coffee'. I wasn't quite sure what that meant, but I took it to mean
that I should just go back to being Mr Darcy all the time for ever, that
I should just own up to the fact that this is all my life will ever amount
to."
He
sighs. "I want to say, strenuously, that although I have never
considered the Darcy thing to be a problem, that is simply not going to
happen."
Article
in the Sunday Telegraph, May 21, 2000
Photo by John Reardon, courtesy of Dolores.
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