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Features: The Times, September 23 1999
Nigel Hawthorne tells how he tackled the demanding but rewarding role of
King George III. Interview by Carole Zucker
Nigel Hawthorne: "When I've played real-life people I do a lot of research
about the period and the people, and then discard it, and play the play.
Play the script"
'On every take we did, I cried'
"When the script first came to me, it was very, very long, about
four-and-a-half hours. Alan Bennett, who'd written it, had used about eight
different typewriters and the o's were up there, the a's were down
there,and the t's were everywhere. When he got a little bit that he thought
he liked, he would snip it out of the page and build up a sort of collage.
And then they were put into the photocopier and we got these pages of
strange happenings.
Nick (Nicholas) Hytner, the director, decided to give a reading of the
play. So all these people came along; it was very nervewracking, and I was
the only one who was cast. I just put all my energy into it. I didn't know
what I was doing. I'd turn the page and go, Pop!: whatever came to me, I
did. It was very unsculptured, but it's the way I like to work, and it
infuriates most people who have to work with it, including directors.
That first day Alan Bennett, who thought he'd written a play - almost a
satire - about the medical and the political factions in the 18th century
set against this mad King, suddenly realised he'd written a human document
about the King. And that was just from the reading.
We had a bare stage: I asked Nick if I could have some clothes - just a
dressing-gown, and a pair of slippers, a hat or a cloak - and right from
the very first rehearsal it was this that started to shape what we were
doing and also to catalogue the illness that the King had.
On research
When I've played real-life people such as Pierre Curie or C.S. Lewis in
Shadowlands, I do a lot of research about the period and the people, and
then discard it, and play the play. Play the script. It's a very good tip
and one I learnt the hard way, and one which I now do.
Rehearsal
We rehearsed for George quite a lot. I think Nick knew at a very early
stage that the best thing with me was to just let me go, and the more he
let me go, the more I would come to terms with the role. In fact, I was
told much later that the members of the company had decided that they might
organise a T-shirt, and on it was written "Nick, I've got an idea!",
because apparently I used to say that every day.
Switching gears: acting for the film version of King George
It's always very difficult, the most difficult thing, to translate from one
medium to another. I think all you can do is wash your brain. I'd never met
Helen Mirren. I loved working with her, and she was wonderfully helpful,
because it was my first leading role in the movies. She said to me one day
- because I was worrying about a scene - 'Do something, then let go, get on
to the next, because the next is more important'. She was great fun, and
naughty, all those things. She's good news.
Charting a role
You start off with the King perfectly all right. But then, somebody who
knew him would think there's something odd about him, he does something
unusual (makes stammering and harrumphing sounds), or some trick of the
voice. And you start introducing these inconsistencies, and gradually build
to a state where he gets up at four in the morning and wakes up all the
pages and then starts to talk filth and rubbish. Alan Bennett said to me
once: 'Oh, just say whatever you want to say', and I said, 'Alan, I can't,
you've got to give me lines.' He then went to an expert on madness and
found how they harped on certain words, and kept returning to them, almost
like a Lewis Carroll fantasy world.
The most touching moment for me is when Helen is running across the grass
at Windsor Castle, and it's snowed, and the King has been put in a
straitjacket and thrown into the royal coach, and as the coach goes past,
he looks back at her, she looks at him, and this man is wrenched away from
his home and his family, and you don't know where he's being taken.
I remember one instance in the film of King George when Ian Holm opens the
door, and the restraining chair is in front of the King. For some reason,
it really upset me to see that chair, and my eyes filled with tears just at
the rehearsal, and every take we did, I cried. I just knew how the King
must have felt, being confronted by that, with those goons around that
appalling instrument of abuse. It used to upset me, and I can't watch the
film without being moved by that moment.
Academy Award nomination:
Best Actor
The news that I'd been nominated was totally unexpected. I was at a
memorial service at the National Theatre for an electrician and someone
came up and said: 'Hey! You've been nominated for an Oscar!'.
When we went to Los Angeles, I suddenly realised that it was an American
celebration and I felt a real foreigner. It was most odd; it was almost as
though I'd come to the wrong party. I'm a huge star spotter and I was
talking to people such as John Travolta and Jodie Foster. That was the most
exciting part, seeing all these people really close up, and peeing next to
them in the lavatory. Steve Martin was in the next cubicle to me.
Asking the director for help
There are very many cases - in fact, most cases - where I'm on the wrong
track, and I have to be put right. The sort of directors that I work best
with are those who don't try to pin me down, who don't say 'Yesterday you
did it like that, and I like that way', because that hems me in. Directors
either steer clear of me, or they go along with it.
I was doing a Chekhov play once, and the director rang me and said: 'I'm
calling you to tell you to stop interfering! You keep telling the actors to
do things I don't want them to know for another three weeks', and I said
'Why? Why don't you want them to know?' She said 'That's my business: I'm
the director.'
I'm not really that technically adept, you know. I have a very good
instinct, and I'm very lucky about that. It sometimes lets me down like
everybody's does. But generally speaking, I know what's right, and I have a
certain amount of taste: 'No, that feels wrong, I don't think I'll do
that', and then I'll start to change things. In the course of a play I'll
totally change my performance, every night, totally. Moves, everything,
which always angers a number of my colleagues.
I had a terrible row with this English actress. She said 'I think you
change things just for the sake of changing them', and I said 'Yes, of
course I do'. She said the art of acting is to be able to come into the
theatre every night and give exactly the same performance that you gave the
previous night.
Surely the important thing is to keep it fresh. Once you've left the
rehearsal it's out of the director's hands, it's in your hands as a group
to maintain the thrill, the danger, the spontaneity. You make it a
happening every night and you get people who don't agree with the way
you're doing it.
The Hollywood megafilm experience: Demolition Man
I did Demolition Man because I wanted to do the screen version of King
George, but I had no credibility. I always thought Tony Hopkins would get
the part because he got the role I originated on stage in Shadowlands. Joel
Silver, who was the producer, saw The Madness of George III, the play, and
called up my agent, and said 'I WANT HIM! GET HIM!' So I thought, well,
maybe if I did this movie, there would be a chance of playing the King,
because they were talking about the film at the time."
Published by arrangement with Rupert Crew Ltd. Extracted from In the
Company of Actors - Reflections on the Craft of Acting by Carole Zucker,
foreward by Sir Richard Eyre, to be published by A&C Black on Sept 30.
Price �12.99
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