THE EMPIRE INTERVIEW
Actor. DJ. Believer in better. And now a writer and director. Behold Idris Elba, the coolest (and busiest) man alive.
IDRIS ELBA RETURNED HOME TO HACKNEY TO DIRECT HIS FIRST FILM, CRIME THRILLER YARDIE. AS ALEX GODFREY DISCOVERS, IT’S A PROJECT THAT NOT ONLY TELLS YOU A LOT ABOUT THE HYPER-MOTIVATED STAR’S PAST — BUT ALSO HIS FUTURE
Idris Elba chose Yardie as his directorial debut, he tells me, because the story’s setting and era formed who he is today. Elba grew up in east London’s Hackney, then later in Canning Town, where he immersed himself in local sound systems, a culture that had arrived in the UK from Jamaica in the 1970s. When he read Victor Headley’s novel Yardie — about D, a Jamaican boy who witnesses his brother’s murder in Kingston then comes to London, seeking revenge while setting up a drug deal — art and life merged.
Set in Hackney, the film is alive with the 1980s sights and sounds that hypnotised a teenage Elba. On the set last year, I watched him direct his young actors with calm confidence, the elder statesman handing down knowledge. On screen, Elba exudes authority — from Stringer Bell to Luther, from Mandela to Thor’s Heimdall, from Pacific Rim’s apocalypse-cancelling Stacker Pentecost to The Dark Tower’s
gunslinger Roland Deschain (and presumably his villain in next year’s Fast And Furious spin-off Hobbs And Shaw)
— these are men who know exactly what they want, and God help anyone who stands in their way.
Elba says he related to D’s drive, which makes sense: the actor, producer, DJ and musician is increasingly spinning more plates, and in the last few years seems hellbent on outdoing not just himself, but everyone else too, in multiple fields. In 2015, hitting 180mph in a Bentley, he broke a land speed record called the Flying Mile. In 2016, aged 44, he spent a year training to be a professional kickboxer, winning his debut fight against an experienced, younger opponent.
As Elba leans back on a sofa, feet up, in early July, I learn that this drive has been a propelling force from the start, as he opens up about the experiences that shaped him, and reveals why he’s been drawn back to his roots. He is, quite objectively, an inspiration.
What are your memories of reading Yardie as a teenager?
That the protagonist was relatable. If someone said, “Read a novel,” you were like, “Mills & Boon? I’m not reading no novels.” This was called Yardie, man. This was about a rude boy on the street. There were no films about rude boys on the street, there were no TV shows about rude boys. The cover had a guy’s face with a gun pointing at you; it was like, “Well, I’ve gotta read this.” And it was compelling — it’s a page-turner, it’s violent. It certainly captured my imagination.
Did you relate to it because its world felt like your surroundings?
Definitely. It described London as I knew it — the streets, vibes, fashion, they were things I could look around and see. I’m West African — Jamaicans were the unruly Wild West compared to African culture. The West Indians, Jamaicans, were badmen, they were getting into trouble, going to jail... they were gangsters, they were flamboyant. They were like Goodfellas. They had the girls, the BMWS, the rings, the violence, and you just looked up in awe of them.
You saw this stuff first-hand.
Yeah. My entry point was the music, the sound systems. Djing in parties where Yardies, rudeboys, would come, and that’s how they partied — bottle of Champagne and a fuckin’ bottle of Hennessy at your feet. With some gold chaps. Two girls standing by you. That is a lad. And you’re going, “Wow.” And here was a book that was describing what I was seeing.
You made music more of a focus in the film. Where were you coming from?
I wanted to make it more relatable and real. The reality of being a young lad in England. My offering was that needledrop into the culture, and the music was the way through to that. I was never a gangster in the way D was, but I was around that culture.
It’s a different scene, but the misadventures you had as a pirate radio DJ when you were 19 must have informed some of Yardie’s dirty dealings. I know you’d have doors kicked down and have to clamber out.
Yeah. The hustler’s nature of a DJ on pirate radio is not too dissimilar from a guy slinging rocks. Jumping on frequencies was very illegal, almost like treason back then. The Department of Trade and Industry was put in place to shut down pirate radio. So running in and out of pirate stations when they would come in was the difference between going to jail for a year or not. Just for playing music. It was serious.
So that fed into Yardie?
Definitely in terms of capturing the time period. The chase sequence of D running over rooftops — that’s definitely what mans had to do to get out very quickly from a DTI raid. You’re running on rooftops to get out — you have to go up. You can’t go down because you’d get caught. As a teenager in Canning Town, you’d get racially abused on the street, particularly by National Front