Your new film The Partisan is about spies during the second world war. Would you make a good spy?
I honestly believe I would be a total disaster, because I do love to gossip. I would be going: “You know that guy? I think he’s working for the Russians.” I went to Russia in 1990 to make this wonderful film, The Assassin of the Tsar, and it was still very closed, even though it was glasnost and Gorbachev was in power. I was driving with my wife to the next location to Vladimir, which is an old capital of Russia, and we went past these missile silos. I turned to my wife and said: “If we’d have been doing this a year ago, we’d have been shot for seeing this. I think they’re all pointed at America.”
It has been suggested by conspiracy theorists that Stanley Kubrick directed the moon landings. Are you disappointed that he cast Neil Armstrong instead of you?
No. I’d be better off playing Louis Armstrong! It’s been put about that he directed the moon landings, which … well, we now live in a world of fake news. It’s so incredible, the bullshit. The AI on YouTube is mindboggling, isn’t it? I suppose it could have been anyone in that spacesuit. One of my favourite Kubrick movies is 2001. It’s a masterpiece. It’s one of those films that, when you first see it, you think: what the hell was that? It’s very poetic. Stanley could control the astronauts because they’re hidden in spacesuits. He could get away with anything because he hated ceding power to an actor.
Who is your favourite other Malcolm?
There aren’t many others. It’s strange. I’m quite pleased it’s not too common, but I do like [Canadian journalist and author] Malcolm Gladwell.
How did you get Rupert Murdoch’s Aussie accent right when you played him in 2019’s Bombshell?
By listening to the gentleman many times. It’s interesting because he’s an Aussie via London landing up in New York, so he’s got a bit of everything. I don’t usually copy somebody, but I had to on this. They even gave me the same great jowls as him. It was fun doing it, even though I’m only in it at the end. It’s really powerful, because you are all waiting for Murdoch.
Would you rather die at the bottom of the ocean or deep out into space?
The choices are really not that marvellous, are they? I think I’ll go for space.
You’re a big fan of antique shops. What’s been your best and worst purchase?
Worst – Jesus, there’s too many of those. I’ve been lucky on occasion. I bought a gilt tin eagle out of the back of a car. Massive thing. The wingspan was four and a half feet. There had been a pair of them on top of the governor’s mansion in Sacramento, where Nancy Reagan and Ronald Reagan had lived. I bought it for US$3,000. An antiques dealer came in and said: it’s worth $350,000. But it’s only worth it if you sell it. It’s in my living room. It ain’t going anywhere.
Do you have a party trick?
No. I’m not a party guy, really. The dinner party culture that we had in London is the one thing I really miss. We’d have wonderful dinner parties where you discuss movies, politics, whatever, and it could be quite forceful and passionate. Everything is in a car in the US, so you tend not to do that and say: “I’ll meet you at this restaurant.” When you are out in public, you’ve got to behave to a certain extent. You can’t have a screaming row: “Don’t be ridiculous. Where the hell do you get that idea? I mean, your brains are up your ass” or whatever. You can’t do that, which you can when you’re in somebody’s house.
Do you have a nemesis?
I don’t think so. It’s funny though, when you start off, who is your competition. In my case, it was [fellow English actor] Michael York. Somebody would go: “You know he got $200,000 for that.” “What? I’m getting paid £90 a week!” Then in my late 30s, early 40s, I’d bump into him: “Ah! Michael. Hello! How are you? What are you doing? Nice to see you.” And you’re affable. When you’re over 80, it’s: “Jesus! Michael! We survived, darling! How great! You’d be great in that part. Why don’t you play it?”
What’s the most out-of-date item in your fridge?
Well, my wife’s been in Mexico and I’ve got three sons. There are things going many shades of green at the back of my fridge, which I don’t even look in. I take out stuff that’s been shoved in, and if you actually look inside, it’s probably slightly moving.
What’s been your most cringeworthy run-in with another celebrity?
I sat next to, what’s her name – at a Peet’s Coffee, and kept thinking: “God, I vaguely know this woman.” She kept looking at me and smiling. I thought: “Young girls don’t do that to me that often. Not any more.” She’s in that huge English thing with Hugh Grant and Colin Firth. Her name is in the title.
Bridget Jones!
Thank you.
So Renée Zellweger.
Yes. I thought: “Jesus. That’s weird.” I didn’t even put together who it was until I got home with my coffee and thought: “Oh my God, it was Bridget Jones. How stupid of me.” She smiled a few times, obviously looking for a way in to start a conversation. She’s a brilliant actress. I think she’s wonderful. I felt such an idiot.
The Partisan is out in UK cinemas now, with Australia and US release dates to be announced
