Great Scott
Dougray Scott talks to Janet Christie about ghosts, Glenrothes and finding the good in his Woman in White baddie
Dougray Scott, relishing his role as ‘baddie’ Sir Percival Glyde in the BBC’S Woman in White, talks to Janet Christie about finding the humanity in all his characters, his lifelong devotion to Hibs and muddling through as a parent. Portraits by Debra Hurford Brown
Dougray Scott knows how to cultivate an air of mystery. From the moment he appears as Sir Percival Glyde in the new BBC1 adaptation of Wilkie Collins’ 1859 thriller The Woman in White, there are hints of baddie buttoned up beneath the elegant waistcoat, cravat and starched white collar ensemble, a sense that this dashing Victorian gentleman is not quite what he appears.
Regarded as one of the first crime mystery books, Wilkie Collins’ thriller ticks all of the Victorian gothic boxes: drugged heiresses in nightdresses, lunatic asylums, duplicitous villains, beautiful doppelgangers. It’s little wonder Collins had half of London hooked on their weekly fix of his sensational novel serialised in Charles Dickens’ All the Year Round magazine, and it’s the same mastery of intrigue that makes it perfect for the Sunday night period drama Downton slot now.
Scott says he relished the role of baddie baronet with an evil plan to carry off both the lovely Laura Fairlie and her inheritance, having become captivated by the novel as a bookish youngster hanging out in the library near his Glenrothes home.
“I was always reading and felt an incredible affinity for the power of the written word, fell in love with it,” he says.
“I’m just such a fan of writers, and feel so empowered by them. As an actor you bring their words to life, but it’s the writer who has the idea,” he says over the phone from London. He’s in town to promote the series, taking time out from filming the TV version of Guy Ritchie’s heist romp Snatch in Malaga.
“Wilkie Collins is an extraordinary writer who is a terrific storyteller. He understood the psychological thriller style of writing, mystery and suspense, providing the audience with a picture then very subtly undercutting that with another reality. With the character of Percival, Collins leads you down different paths and then surprises you.”
It seems Sir Percival is a long way from cardboard cut out baddie and Scott is keen to explain the complexities and moral ambiguities that go into motivating his character.
“I guess ultimately he’s a baddie, the bad guy of the piece,” he says, “but I think he’s complex. That’s what I was really interested in, to understand why he became who he became. He had a very fractured childhood and discovered his parents weren’t married so he’s had to live this lie, knowing the consequences of it coming out were devastating in terms of money and status. I don’t think he’s a psychopath, I think he’s desperate. And as it continues he becomes childlike, raw, vulnerable, desperate, tragic, pathetic, and you see more of who he is.
“That’s what’s interesting with any person described as bad. You want