IT WAS NEVER MY GOAL TO MAKE IT IN AMERICA. FOR ME, IT’S JUST BEEN TRYING TO BE AS TRUTHFUL AS POSSIBLE Stephen Graham
A go-to guy for Shane Meadows and Martin Scorsese, Stephen Graham is one of Britain’s most volcanic and versatile actors. Earlier this year he wowed in TV series The Virtues, and now, after playing Baby Face Nelson and Al Capone, he’s playing another icon
When Stephen Graham was a child growing up in Kirkby, on the outskirts of Liverpool, he’d command attention in his front room by acting out impressions of Idi Amin and Margaret Thatcher. Now in his midforties, and nearly 30 years into his onscreen acting career, Graham is renowned for playing bad guys.
There’s more to Graham, obviously, as evidenced earlier this year by his shattering performance in Shane Meadows’ Channel 4 miniseries The Virtues, in which he plays alcoholic Joseph, who returns to his hometown in Ireland and unearths horrific memories that he’s long suppressed. But he’s best known for playing anguished, disturbed and incendiary men: racist skinhead Andrew ‘Combo’ Gascoigne in This Is England and its three subsequent TV series; bank robber Lester Joseph Gillis – better known as Baby Face Nelson – in Michael Mann’s Public Enemies; and Chicago’s Prohibition-era kingpin Al Capone, aka Scarface, in HBO’s superlative crime series Boardwalk Empire.
The latter was executive produced by Martin Scorsese, who had cast Graham eight years previously in Gangs Of New York. And now the actor is working with Scorsese once more, this time alongside the director’s closest family (Robert De Niro, Harvey Keitel, Joe Pesci) in mob epic The Irishman. He plays Tony Provenzano, a member of New York’s Genovese crime family who was known for his associations with Teamsters union director Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino) and President Richard Nixon.
“I’ve grown up on Scorsese’s films, they were the films that I watched with my dad,” says Graham, so excited that his eyes out-bulge the tattooed biceps that strain against his sports t-shirt.
Graham is not at all what you expect, which is to say that he’s chatty and smiley and doesn’t once launch across the table to grab Total Film by the throat. Seated in the dining area of London’s Soho Hotel, he tucks into a Caesar salad and alternates between a glass of still water and a latte, those rounded eyes glittering as he reels off anecdote after anecdote. It might be 29 years since he made his screen debut as Football Kid in the BBC Films comedy Dancin’ Thru The Dark, but he’s still a big kid in the sweetshop of cinema, not able to quite believe where his career’s taken him since he was spotted playing Jim Hawkins in a school production of Treasure Island.
The stepping stones of Coronation Street and The Bill led to Guy Ritchie’s Snatch and HBO’s Band Of Brothers, and he’s since flip-flopped between British productions (The Damned United, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, Taboo, Film Stars Don’t Die In Liverpool, Journey’s End, Yardie, Save Me, Line Of Duty, Rocketman, The Virtues) with American behemoths (Public Enemies, Pirates Of The Caribbean: On Stranger Tides, Pirates Of The Caribbean: Salazar’s Revenge, The Irishman) as easily as he glides between his coffee and water.
But it’s the homegrown dramas that most attract Graham. Partly it’s because he’s a quiet family man who lives with his wife and two kids in a sleepy town in Leicestershire. Largely it’s because he’s drawn to projects about the kind of marginalised people he understands – Graham was a youth worker in Liverpool, his dad a social worker. Which brings us back to The Irishman and that Grahamfamily icon, Martin Scorsese…
How did The Irishman come about? You’re old mates with Scorsese…
Yeah, it’s slightly mad. I put myself on tape for Gangs Of New York. I didn’t hear nothing for a while, because I think the world and its wife put themselves on tape. And then I got the news that I got the job. I phoned the missus straight away, and then my ma and dad.
Not too bad a gig, being directed by Marty in Rome…
It was lovely. I got a massive pack of information about the time period and the organisation of the gangs, and the immigrants that had been brought over from Ireland, England, all over the world. And I just went at it like a madman. I kept reading it, and really doing my own bit of research. I found a little story: if a fishmonger caught you stealing, he’d stick a fucking hook in you, and rip your face. So I thought, “I’ll have that.” And I was like, “Ooh, I wonder if he’d have had a dog to help for rats and things like that?” So I got there and sat down with Marty. I told him about the fish hook, and I said I want a dog. He was just sitting there going [pulls a startled face] and then he went, “OK, let’s get you the scars. And let’s get you a dog.” He loved it.
So how did The Irishman come about?
Well, on my last day filming [Gangs Of New York], I was like, “Martin, I’ve had such a great time. Thank you so much. I’ll never forget this.” He was like, “It’s been a wonderful experience, too, working with you. You’ve been great in the movie. We’ll do it again one day.” And I went, “Don’t say that and then don’t do it. You’ve promised me now.” And then
[years later] the phone went, and it was him. He’d seen This Is England and he was saying how much he loved the film, and what a great performance it was, and he really liked Shane as a director. And then he went, “What are you up to at the minute? I want you to come to America. I’m doing this HBO series. It’s called Boardwalk Empire. It’s kind of loosely based on reality. We’ve got some great scripts. We’ve got some good people involved. And I’d really like you to be a part of it.” I went, “Oh, lovely, yeah. Thank you.” He went, “No problem. You’re going to play
Al Capone.”
Wow.
I went [surprised, nervous], “OK.” He went, “I’ll send you some stuff. But don’t watch any movies. I want us to create a brandnew character because we’re going to start playing him when he’s 19, and you’re going to go right through to late thirties.”
So did he call again with The Irishman?
Again, a phone call came through: “Marty really wants you to be in this film that he’s doing. You’re going to have to fly out to New York, though. He wants you, but you’ve got to meet Bob.” I was like, “Bob?” “Robert De Niro.” [pulls amazed, terrified face] I was filming The Virtues at the time. I had a Friday off so I flew over to Martin’s house. He’s like, “It’s a great role. It’s a really nice piece.” I’d read [source book] I Heard You Paint Houses, and I knew that it was going to be for the role of Tony Provenzano. I did a bit of research.
So was Robert De Niro there?
Bob was a little bit late. And he just walks in the door, and he’s got a cap on, and a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, with a paper under his arm, and was just like, “Hello.” I was really in awe. It was like, “It’s Robert De Niro.” I had to let that pass. Two hours later, we were talking, we were laughing. We just got on really, really well. I was dead nervous. At the end of it, I said, “I’ve got to say this to you: you’ve been a hero to me. I’ve been brought up on your films. You were an inspiration to me as an actor.” He was like,
“Thank you very much.” Martin went, “Oh, you two have got something in common.” I was like, “What?” Then Marty went, “You’ve both played Al Capone.” And De Niro went, “Yeah, and you were great. Your Capone was fantastic.”
Did you get the role that day?
De Niro went, “Just give us a minute.” I went outside and I was just smoking my vape, thinking, “Fucking hell, I can’t believe what’s just happened.” And then I came back up, and Marty went, “OK, so, do you want to do this?” I went, “Yeah! You kidding me?” He went, “Well, you’re in.” He stood up. I was doing that English thing of giving the handshake, and he went like this [spreads his arms for a hug]. I felt like I’d been made!
How does your character fit in?
Tony’s a link between the Mafia and the Teamsters. He became an employee of the Teamsters – he ran for one of their presidencies, and he got in. But also, he was heavily connected with the Mafia. He was a made man. That all comes out in the story, so you get to see that.
How was it acting with De Niro, Pacino, Keitel and Pesci?
I always lIke to make the audIence questIon themselves
There’s a really nice scene with me and Pacino, when we’re both in prison. Embezzlement and fraud. But he owes me a couple of million quid. My arse had gone first thing in the morning. I was really excited. I’d come up with a lovely little idea. I spoke to the cameraman, and the props fella, but I never told anyone else. So throughout our scene, Pacino’s eating a bowl of ice cream, and he’s not fucking paying me any attention. But he owes me two million quid. That fucker has got my money. We do it two times. We do it three times. I don’t know why, but I don’t do it. I know this is the last shot on the wide, so I’m like, “OK, I’m going to do it this time.” I waited for him to put his spoon down in this bowl, and I went [bellows], “Fuck off!” and threw his ice cream right around the room. He was like, “Whoa! Fuck!” Then I jumped over the table at him.
How did that go down?
When we cut, Al Pacino just shouted to Marty. [launches into a loud, spot-on Pacino impression] “Did you see that, Marty? The kid frightened me. He frightened me!” I was like, “I’m really sorry.” He’s like, “What, no, are you kidding? That was great.” And we had to redo it for the closeups and the twoshots. I cut my hand at one point. He went [another pitch-perfect Pacino impression], “See, this kid gives blood for the scene! I hope you’re getting this, Marty.” And Marty’s like [nasal, rat-a-tat Scorsese impression], “I told you. I told you. I told you what he’s going to be like. I said that. Didn’t I say it to you?” It was lovely.
Scorsese has stressed that The Irishman is not like Goodfellas and Casino, that it’s more contemplative. Do you agree?
It’s really different. It’s kind of a great tragedy, in many respects. A bit more of a character study this time.
You’ve previously played Baby Face Nelson, in Public Enemies, and Al Capone. Is there more pressure when you take on an iconic, real-life figure?
It’s a great bonus, because you can study, and you don’t have to create a brand-new backstory. You can find out where they lived, where they went to school, and there are photographs. But I try to make it my own, then. So with somebody like Al Capone, we know the latter side of his life, and we know what he was like
– you know, this gregarious, flamboyant fucking multimillionaire. He wanted to be a movie star himself. So I know we’ll get there at some point. But for the earliest stages of that, I wanted to bring a bit more humour into him, and the humanity of him. Because he’s not always going to fucking smash a glass on someone’s head and stamp on their face. What’s he like when he’s telling his kid a bedtime story?
That sums up your career – you’ve played a lot of bad, or troubled, guys, but you always find layers…
Bad men or gangsters are often portrayed in a very two-dimensional way. But it’s what’s underneath that. It’s a kaleidoscope of different feelings. I always like to make sure that there’s something that will make the audience question themselves.
When you play these volatile characters, does it take it out of you?
I go back knackered. Physically, you’ve had a good day’s graft. But it’s so much fun because, in real life, you’d never get away with throwing a fucking glass at a wall. I love playing those kind of characters. But also on the other side of it, with something like The Virtues… For me, to be able to play a character like that, who’s really broken and vulnerable? Man, it was a gift.
That character must have really taken it out of you. To go that deep, to those places, it must have been mentally exhausting…
There’s a little piece of my soul in that particular project and that particular role – obviously because of what Shane has said, and what happened to him as a child [Meadows has talked about the sexual abuse he suffered]. There’s a duty of care with it. And for him to feel that he could portray that story through me as his main character, it was just an honour, a true honour. And to show certain sides of alcoholism as well, to be able to portray that in a truthful, honest way.
How does everyone on set survive a shoot like that?
You have to find dark humour in things, because otherwise we’re all going to need fucking psychotherapy. So you have a laugh with a spark. You talk about footie to
shane meadows took my money and left me In sheffIeld