Creating a Real Person on Film
What drew you to this project?The book's profoundly unsentimental and the book never judges, and Vadim Perelman's screenplay is from his culture and his history and his own life. And because there is no sentimentality or prejudice in the screenplay, the actors are released from the burden of prejudging their characters as well. All we did was present their inevitable behaviour — in other words, this is what this man has to do because he's this man in this situation. None of us as actors would have to audition for the audience's affection in any part of the film. We just gave it to the camera purely and simply, because Vadim always gave us the perfect working environment. If the camera is in the right place the audience are invited to witness in a way that keeps every single character on the screen viscerally to every member of the audience. You care about Ron Eldard in this film — you care about the policeman who is like this wounded knight who staggers around; he's lost his battlefield, he doesn't know how to fight this battle. He's trying to do the right thing and he realises it's slipping through his fingers. I think as a member of the audience, rather than saying, 'You bastard!' I think you care for him. You care for Kathy [Jennifer Connolly] when she has that drink; you can't stop her but you can't judge her.
Is there a hero or villain in this film?
Not really. We definitely don't have the good and bad in this film — we're exploring that very rich and extraordinary area in between. Once there is a good element introduced in a film it never changes, and once a bad element is introduced it never changes. And the audience is essentially sold short because nothing really happens: The good stay good and the bad stay bad, and they bash it out between them. But in this film I've found that people very much want to connect with us on a very deep level. You are almost counselling people; you are addressing their concerns about loss, tragedy, family, home on a very urgent and extraordinary level. It's completely universal — it's across the sexes, across the ages and across all cultures as well. Vadim's film comes straight through the sternum and goes straight to the heart. That's the best response we could possibly hope for, but I never personally imagined we would get that kind of response.
How did you create the character of Behrani?
In my own experience in portraying other men, in earning my money pretending to be someone else, it has stamped me with what an actor is: tribally central, socially totally peripheral. I enjoy this status so much; I feel that I'm close to the heart of the tribe, whatever that means, as a storyteller, an actor and troubadour, but socially quite distant because I don't fit into any comfortable block. There is a migration going on always, from me to the other, back from the other to me, from me to my fellow actors, from me to Vadim's sensibilities. There's also the migration of filming last year in Prague, New Mexico, Los Angeles and Pinewood. So the sense of being displaced from my home, my homeland and language, is a very real part of my working life, and I've never suffered from it in the way that Behrani has. I've never felt the loss of anything; I've never lost my king, my kingdom, my landscape, my battlefield, my armour and my son. I've never done anything remotely compared to that.
How does this character compare with other roles?
Gosh, I'm trying very hard not to make any comparison, not to hold up this experience against any other. With Attenborough, with Spielberg, with Jonathan Glazer I had the most extraordinary opportunities. But I think that in terms of fondness of a portrait I've done of somebody, I think Behrani is possibly the portrait I'm most fond of in my whole career — maybe because it's recent, maybe because it's fresh, maybe because the response is so strong and gratifying. He's a man I deeply care for on the screen. I was surprised when I watched the film how detached I was and how moved I was towards liking him tremendously and understanding him and almost admiring him.
Did having an Iranian actress playing your wife help?
Shohreh Agdashloo was very politically active in Iran — she certainly can't go back, she'd be in huge trouble if she did go back. She's a very intelligent woman who runs her own theatre company for the Persian diaspora in Los Angeles and around the world. She said, ‘I dedicate my performance to all the voiceless women in the world, wherever they are.’ There are women who have insufficient voice in the governing of their lives, the decisions that are made and how it affects them and their children. When she said that at a press conference I was very touched.
How about the young actor who played your son?
[SPOILER ALERT!] Johnny Ahdout walked into our rehearsal room and brought with him, in his heart and whole demeanour, his extraordinary family and culture that allows young people to have tremendous respect for their elders. When Johnny walked into our rehearsal room it was the final missing link, the ultimate catalyst, the great sacrificial lamb at the heart of our film. Throughout filming it was very difficult not to be moved by everything he did on the set. He had ideas, he made choices, he was astonishingly simple. So by the time we came to his death scene we were very closely bonded. He's one of those people in life who just fill you up — I can't put it any other way. And when the first squib went off on his chest my body went into total shock, no acting needed. Everything Johnny and I had worked on during the filming was coming to that critical point — how he would die in my arms.
What can you say about the new Thunderbirds movie?
That was a film for children. It was directed by a man of great taste, a wonderful man to be with on the set. It was a joyful experience and he never once trivialised what we were doing. You know, there's nothing worse than taking your children to a bad pantomime, when they're having more fun on stage than the kids are in the audience. It's insulting, it's demeaning, it's excluding. I think this was a genuine piece of '60s mythology about heroism and antiheroism that was made with a big heart, and we all had a wonderful time making it.
Any plans to return to the stage?
I haven't any plans right now. The short answer is I'm completely in love with film as a medium. I'm in love with the minimalism it forces, the economy and the truth the camera insists on, and I'm very love with the fact that the camera is revolted by acting and loves behaviour. I think if I were to go back on stage I'd be in grave danger of acting! I avoid that at all costs. Who knows though — I may, but not in the foreseeable future.
LONDON, JAN.04
