Which Tom will steal Hiddleston’s crown?
As Tom Hughes captures the nation’s hearts in Victoria, stage and screen are awash with homegrown namesakes, says
Six months ago, there was only one Tom in our lives. He was blond, with a double first in classics from Cambridge, and an ambassador for Unicef. And after his pants-down exceptional performance in the BBC’s hit Tom Hiddleston was tipped as the next Bond. It seemed he could do no wrong.
But then came Taylor Swift, a sodden tank top, accusations of a showmance and an equally public dumping. Then suddenly, a new Tom was on the scene, jousting with his namesake for the title of King of Sunday-night television.
Tom Hughes, who plays Albert in ITV’s new drama is set to take centre stage this weekend as the royal romance begins and a nation swoons over his breeches.
But Hiddleston and Hughes aren’t the only Toms to peep at. Never has the red carpet been so awash with 30-something British actors who share the same name. Cruise and Hanks are surely quaking in their boots. But where have they come from? Here’s what you need to know about the cream of the Tom crop. and has been likened to Benedict Cumberbatch for his role as a spy in BBC2’s 2014 Cold War series Now he has come-of-age in the reluctant, ruminating and frequently silent Prince Albert. But who needs sound when you can watch him astride a horse, waltzing or tinkling on piano keys? A Mick Jagger pout
Playing the guitar (he used to be in an indie band called Quaintways).
Definitely maybe dating co-star Jenna Coleman, who he also acted alongside in the BBC’s Directors have at times called this actor “unpredictable” and “dangerous” with the same awe reserved for wild animals. Inevitably cast as a hard man, he’s had stand-out roles in RocknRolla, both Kray twins), hit series (where he played BBC2’s and as
He has also made a gibbering wreck out of another of the Toms. Hiddleston once said: “He is doing things no British actor has ever done. His performance in was visceral, pure and muscular, and it made me cry.” The epitome of a bad boy done good, Hardy is now a committed father who spends his time petting his two rescue dogs and campaigning for Peta. Also recognisable by his tattoos, one of which is his agent’s name carved into his left arm – he told her if she got him to Hollywood he’d have it done.
Being hard
Gruffly speaking to his dogs in that heartstopping rasp he does
Married to actress Charlotte Riley. They met on the set of ITV’s in 2009 – she was the Cathy to his Heathcliff. Dark and rogueishly handsome, with piercing blue eyes, Sturridge is one to watch. Son of the actress Phoebe Nicholls and director Charles Sturridge, he was educated at the Harrodian School – where he became best friends with Robert Pattinson – but dropped out before A-levels. At 18, he starred in
and has since won praise and prizes for stage and screen roles, including and
He played Henry VI in the BBC’s and was Sergeant Troy to Carey Mulligan’s Bathsheba in
“I choose carefully,” he says. “I’m not afraid of not working.” A beard and porkpie hat
Writing his journal. “I write constantly, about everything,” he says.
He has a fouryear-old daughter from a previous relationship with Sienna Miller. Get ready to see a lot more of this gently stubbled Tom. He’s currently in Amazon’s playing one half of a Parisian fashion house brother-partnership, stars as the lead in next month’s a real-life story about a British man who lost his arms and legs to sepsis, and heads up ITV’s upcoming detective drama You’ll know him from
(he played the never not open-shirted Leonardo), and ITV’s The wellspoken actor first trod the boards aged five and poses a double threat, acting and producing. He once described himself as not “the conventional handsome Hollywood leading man” but with LA teeth and carefully cultivated chest hair, that doesn’t ring quite true.
Overachieving – he set up a theatre company starting drama school Jumping on to table tops, from standing, like Tigger – a preferred party trick Engaged to the actress Lizzy Caplan from
Last Sunday, I popped round to a neighbour’s house to collect a spider plant. A cup of tea, a chat about watering, and I was on my way. She lives just along the road from me, but it was the first time we had met. This gentle moment of leafy generosity was brought to me by Streetlife, which last week became the UK’s largest and fastest growing social network.
Never heard of it? You soon will. It connects over 1.2 million people across the country with its local message board site, streetlife. com. Whether you want to get rid of granny’s old sideboard, find a decent Italian restaurant, plumber or volunteer to save the hedgehogs, it could soon become your first port of call. As could Nextdoor, another new neighbour networking app which has become a huge hit in the States and has just announced that it will be launching imminently in the UK.
In a world of digital fast living, there’s something sweetly oldfashioned about the back-and-forth of these local community sites.
When Bill Gates said, “the internet is becoming the town square for the global village of tomorrow,” this could be exactly what he meant. Tomorrow is here and Tom would like to swap his gardening skills for Claudia’s old sofa. Over the internet is the new over the garden fence.
Streetlife and sites like it are the new church socials or village noticeboards. They succeed because they feed our need for connection, for neighbourliness and community. What might start with you scoring a slightly dodgy lamp from Avril who lives opposite the post office, which you then get Mike from round the corner to rewire, ends up with you joining his five-a-side team and taking your family to their end-ofseason pot-luck barbecue, in a cheerful daisy chain of open-handed, open-hearted kindness.
The doom-mongers, who predicted that technology would result in us all being holed up at home staring at screens, couldn’t have been more wrong. Instead of being something separate from us, it us. It allows us to connect with like-minded souls. And it’s hugely egalitarian – all about clicks, not cliques.
One of the most compelling aspects of sites like Streetlife is that they feed that great small-town tradition of extreme nosiness. For those of you, like me, who used to comb local newspapers’ letters pages and small ads in rather the same manner that Margaret Mead took to recording the lives and sexual mores of the people of Samoa, they are wonderful for no-risk curtain-twitching.
Each message enables us to take the temperature of our streets. We read for signs of change as though reading the runes. People move out (“Where can I get cheap bubble wrap and packing boxes?”) and new people move in (“Wanted: A plank of old wood suitable for a shelf,” “A large saucepan, suitable for candlemaking,” “The vocal score for
But what is most noticeable is that as much as it delights people to score free or cheap stuff, the pleasure of those doing the giving (or almost giving) is just as palpable. Fundamentally, we are hard-wired to help people out if we can. The internet just gives us new ways and opportunities to do that. When we help our neighbours, we strengthen our communities, and ultimately we help ourselves. We live or die together, one cup of sugar (or flaxseed) at a time.