Post by Scully Z. on May 21, 2012 17:10:56 GMT -6
Oh God, yet another interview entitled: 'What Wilby, Wilby'. Really, people?
Anyway, here we go:
What Wilby will be; Playing Mountbatten in a new TV drama was a breeze for JAMES WILBY, who has made his name playing toffs. But, he tells FRANCES HARDY, behind his easy manner lies a great sadness - the tragic early death of his brother.
Daily Mail (London)
March 10, 2007
Permalink
Byline: FRANCES HARDY
Watching James Wilby on the set of his latest TV drama, dressed in an elegant bespoke suit, he is the perfect English gentleman.
Off camera, his denim jacket and canvas satchel suggest more superannuated student than high-class toff. But then there has always been a gulf between James the actor and the man himself. We associate him with period films such as Maurice, Howards End and Gosford Park, in which he portrayed a succession of smartly attired upper middleclass gents. But he says his at-home style in Sussex is, by contrast, ' unkempt and unshaven'.
His latest project is a TV drama-documentary in which he plays the charismatic Lord Mountbatten, Britain's last Viceroy of India. The Last Days Of The Raj marks the 60th anniversary of India's independence and filming took James to the country where his parents spent the early years of their marriage. 'My mother nearly left my father because she was stranded in a part of India where nobody spoke English,' he recalls. The marriage survived and the Wilbys became accustomed to a life on the move as James's father travelled widely in his job. 'I think many actors have an itinerant gene,' says James. 'A lot of us have absorbed life in different cultures.' James, 49, had his first big break in the 1987 Merchant-Ivory film Maurice, in which he portrays a young man confronting his homosexuality in Edwardian England.
His co-star was the then unknown Hugh Grant, and, after that early triumph (James shared the Best Actor award with Grant at the Venice Film Festival for Maurice), the two men's paths diverged.
'When we won, it was quite something, and we got drunk together,' says James. 'It was the first major film role for both of us, but we didn't work together again.' James remained within the Merchant-Ivory 'family', alongside such luminaries as Helena Bonham Carter and Simon Callow, but contemporary parts, including acting in TV dramas Mother Love with Diana Rigg and alongside Jimmy Nail in Crocodile Shoes, spared him the tedium of typecasting. This summer, he costars with Robson Green and Maggie O'Neill as philandering husband Adrian in Little Devil, a three-part drama for ITV1, which examines the catastrophic effects on two children when their parents embark on illicit affairs.
'Adrian is the sort of man who doesn't see why an affair should destroy his marriage,' says James. 'He believes, as long as his wife doesn't find out, it doesn't matter, which is a typical male attitude.' Is it one he espouses?
'No. I couldn't bear it if my wife slept with someone else, so that has to be reciprocated, doesn't it?' His marriage, to Shana, a former picture researcher, is a compatibly happy one. 'She makes me laugh and stops me from taking myself too seriously,' he says. 'I always thought I couldn't possibly fancy a woman over 40, but once we'd both reached that age, I realised desirability isn't just about nubile young flesh. Other things - experience, shared humour, being on the same wavelength - make a woman sexy. Besides, to be honest, I think I'd be a bit frightened and almost embarrassed if a woman leapt on me now. You get set in your own ways, don't you?' Home is an old rectory in East Sussex, which the couple share with their children: Barney, 18; Florence, 14; Natty, ten, and five-year-old Jesse. Fatherhood and rural life suit him. He tends his vast garden, enjoys being close to his family and revels in such shared pleasures as playing rock guitar with his eldest son.
Barney and Florence are day pupils at a public school, although James boarded. 'One of the great pleasures of children is the day-today coexistence with them,' he says. 'They keep you young and you can be so proud of what they achieve.' James, the middle of three children, was born in Burma, in 1958, where his father, Geoffrey, was posted. Because the family moved often, the children were sent to England to be educated. It was during a summer break, when his parents had moved to Jamaica, that a tragedy changed their lives irrevocably.
James's brother, Jeremy, a brilliant swimmer, died in a diving accident: he was 18.
'He was diving without a snorkel,' recalls James. 'He went down to 100ft holding his breath. He was coming up again; about 6ft from the surface, when he blacked out and sank back down again.' Bereft, James's parents, in an effort to eradicate the memory of the accident, left Jamaica for good. But the grief and the loss abides.
James, who missed a degree of closeness to his father because of their geographical separation, resolved not to miss his own children growing up.
But the loss of his brother has not made him overprotective of them. 'Of course you worry, but you can almost will accidents on your kids if you cosset them. Children have to be allowed to experience life.' He would not, however, encourage any of them to follow him into acting, a career he views with an ambivalent mix of affection and dislike. 'It's a strange business; there is a lot of falseness. And it isn't exactly glamorous,' he says, casting an eye round the cramped trailer, moored in a parking lot, in which we meet during a break from filming, for a canteen-style lunch.
His route into acting was a circuitous one. He scraped through a maths degree from Durham University after absenting himself from most of the course to found and perform in a student drama company. Then he won a place at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art.
Leading roles in theatre and minor film parts followed, before Maurice earned him a place in the Merchant-Ivory coterie. When producer Ismail Merchant died two years ago, James lost a friend and mentor. 'If you appeared in one of Ismail's films you became part of his family, and he would move mountains to help you,' he says.
Before we part, James changes out of his work clothes and turns into himself. In rumpled trousers and casual shirt, he looks neither conventional nor middle-aged. Neither has he succumbed to a midlife crisis. 'I suppose I might have one if my career disappeared; if I lost my health or if something went wrong with my family life. But I'm not materialistic,' he says, 'And, as long as I have my family, I wouldn't really give a monkey's if I lost everything else.' The Last Days Of The Raj, Channel 4, Monday, 9pm.
Anyway, here we go:
What Wilby will be; Playing Mountbatten in a new TV drama was a breeze for JAMES WILBY, who has made his name playing toffs. But, he tells FRANCES HARDY, behind his easy manner lies a great sadness - the tragic early death of his brother.
Daily Mail (London)
March 10, 2007
Permalink
Byline: FRANCES HARDY
Watching James Wilby on the set of his latest TV drama, dressed in an elegant bespoke suit, he is the perfect English gentleman.
Off camera, his denim jacket and canvas satchel suggest more superannuated student than high-class toff. But then there has always been a gulf between James the actor and the man himself. We associate him with period films such as Maurice, Howards End and Gosford Park, in which he portrayed a succession of smartly attired upper middleclass gents. But he says his at-home style in Sussex is, by contrast, ' unkempt and unshaven'.
His latest project is a TV drama-documentary in which he plays the charismatic Lord Mountbatten, Britain's last Viceroy of India. The Last Days Of The Raj marks the 60th anniversary of India's independence and filming took James to the country where his parents spent the early years of their marriage. 'My mother nearly left my father because she was stranded in a part of India where nobody spoke English,' he recalls. The marriage survived and the Wilbys became accustomed to a life on the move as James's father travelled widely in his job. 'I think many actors have an itinerant gene,' says James. 'A lot of us have absorbed life in different cultures.' James, 49, had his first big break in the 1987 Merchant-Ivory film Maurice, in which he portrays a young man confronting his homosexuality in Edwardian England.
His co-star was the then unknown Hugh Grant, and, after that early triumph (James shared the Best Actor award with Grant at the Venice Film Festival for Maurice), the two men's paths diverged.
'When we won, it was quite something, and we got drunk together,' says James. 'It was the first major film role for both of us, but we didn't work together again.' James remained within the Merchant-Ivory 'family', alongside such luminaries as Helena Bonham Carter and Simon Callow, but contemporary parts, including acting in TV dramas Mother Love with Diana Rigg and alongside Jimmy Nail in Crocodile Shoes, spared him the tedium of typecasting. This summer, he costars with Robson Green and Maggie O'Neill as philandering husband Adrian in Little Devil, a three-part drama for ITV1, which examines the catastrophic effects on two children when their parents embark on illicit affairs.
'Adrian is the sort of man who doesn't see why an affair should destroy his marriage,' says James. 'He believes, as long as his wife doesn't find out, it doesn't matter, which is a typical male attitude.' Is it one he espouses?
'No. I couldn't bear it if my wife slept with someone else, so that has to be reciprocated, doesn't it?' His marriage, to Shana, a former picture researcher, is a compatibly happy one. 'She makes me laugh and stops me from taking myself too seriously,' he says. 'I always thought I couldn't possibly fancy a woman over 40, but once we'd both reached that age, I realised desirability isn't just about nubile young flesh. Other things - experience, shared humour, being on the same wavelength - make a woman sexy. Besides, to be honest, I think I'd be a bit frightened and almost embarrassed if a woman leapt on me now. You get set in your own ways, don't you?' Home is an old rectory in East Sussex, which the couple share with their children: Barney, 18; Florence, 14; Natty, ten, and five-year-old Jesse. Fatherhood and rural life suit him. He tends his vast garden, enjoys being close to his family and revels in such shared pleasures as playing rock guitar with his eldest son.
Barney and Florence are day pupils at a public school, although James boarded. 'One of the great pleasures of children is the day-today coexistence with them,' he says. 'They keep you young and you can be so proud of what they achieve.' James, the middle of three children, was born in Burma, in 1958, where his father, Geoffrey, was posted. Because the family moved often, the children were sent to England to be educated. It was during a summer break, when his parents had moved to Jamaica, that a tragedy changed their lives irrevocably.
James's brother, Jeremy, a brilliant swimmer, died in a diving accident: he was 18.
'He was diving without a snorkel,' recalls James. 'He went down to 100ft holding his breath. He was coming up again; about 6ft from the surface, when he blacked out and sank back down again.' Bereft, James's parents, in an effort to eradicate the memory of the accident, left Jamaica for good. But the grief and the loss abides.
James, who missed a degree of closeness to his father because of their geographical separation, resolved not to miss his own children growing up.
But the loss of his brother has not made him overprotective of them. 'Of course you worry, but you can almost will accidents on your kids if you cosset them. Children have to be allowed to experience life.' He would not, however, encourage any of them to follow him into acting, a career he views with an ambivalent mix of affection and dislike. 'It's a strange business; there is a lot of falseness. And it isn't exactly glamorous,' he says, casting an eye round the cramped trailer, moored in a parking lot, in which we meet during a break from filming, for a canteen-style lunch.
His route into acting was a circuitous one. He scraped through a maths degree from Durham University after absenting himself from most of the course to found and perform in a student drama company. Then he won a place at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art.
Leading roles in theatre and minor film parts followed, before Maurice earned him a place in the Merchant-Ivory coterie. When producer Ismail Merchant died two years ago, James lost a friend and mentor. 'If you appeared in one of Ismail's films you became part of his family, and he would move mountains to help you,' he says.
Before we part, James changes out of his work clothes and turns into himself. In rumpled trousers and casual shirt, he looks neither conventional nor middle-aged. Neither has he succumbed to a midlife crisis. 'I suppose I might have one if my career disappeared; if I lost my health or if something went wrong with my family life. But I'm not materialistic,' he says, 'And, as long as I have my family, I wouldn't really give a monkey's if I lost everything else.' The Last Days Of The Raj, Channel 4, Monday, 9pm.