GEORGE MACKAY

Cast in his first film out of school at age 10, George MacKay has specialised in transformational per formances , grounded by studied physicalit y, across a two - decade-plus career. Ahead of an eye - catching triple role in romantic tragedy The Beast, MacKay tells Total Film that his best is yet to come. ‘I just want to do good work ,’ he says . ‘I just want to do bet ter work .’

‘WHEN CHOICES ARE MADE ALMOST ALGORITHMICALLY, I THINK THAT IS THE DEATH OF CREATIVITY’

INTERVIEW JORDAN FARLEY

Quietly one of the hardest-working actors around, George MacKay is typically busy when Total Film catches up with the ever-affable star at the Glasgow Film Festival in mid-March. Here to promote his latest role(s) in Bertrand Bonello’s unnerving, metaphysical romance The Beast, he’ll be rolling into production on his next movie in a matter of days. ‘I feel genuinely so grateful for all the work I get to do,’ MacKay says from a Glasgow hotel room best described as functional. ‘I’m wary of sounding wanky, but I do have a real love for work.’

Aprofessional actor since the age of 10, when he was cast as Curly in P.J. Hogan’s Peter Pan, MacKay has habitually appeared in multiple projects a year ever since. Born in Hammersmith, MacKay leapfrogged typical child-actor roles on TV, instead winning kid parts in adult productions, with early breaks in the likes of Defiance, alongside Daniel Craig, and HBO mini-series Tsunami: The Aftermath.

After finding his voice in his teens, MacKay let his pipes do the talking in Dexter Fletcher’s 2013 Proclaimers jukebox musical Sunshine on Leith, and displayed his range by appearing in Kevin Macdonald’s dystopian romance How I Live Now that same year. In 2016, he earned plaudits as Viggo Mortensen’s headstrong eldest son in Captain Fantastic –displaying early signs of what would become a fascination with intense, transformative physicality.

MacKay’s career since has been defined by a series of challenging, wildly varied roles that –coupled with the choice to keep his personal life out of the limelight – make him a rare character actor with leading-man credentials. Whether a sympathetic member of the Hitler Youth in Where Hands Touch, a patient undergoing treatment for clinical lycanthropy in Wolf, a misanthropic graffiti artist in ICame By, or a closeted gay man who commits a homophobic hate crime in Femme, MacKay’s choices do not adhere to the typical movie-star playbook.

In 1917 and True History of the Kelly Gang –released within weeks of each other in the early pre-pandemic months of 2020 – MacKay did some of his best work to date, essaying young men at war, possessed by a single-minded determination to see their journeys through to the end. To play Australian outlaw Ned Kelly, MacKay underwent an intense period of preparation, writing in character as Kelly, forming aband with fellow cast-mates and turning his body into a sinewy coiled spring –an experience that put him in good stead for the physically gruelling demands of 1917’s ‘one-shot’ odyssey across the European battlefield.

It’s this commitment to his craft, and chameleonic quality, that brought him to The Beast. Bertrand Bonello’s ambitious, partially French-language, centuriesspanning romance stars MacKay and Léa Seydoux as Louis and Gabrielle (respectively), characters drawn together across three distinct eras – 1910 Paris, 2014 LA and a futuristic city in 2044 –with ‘the beast’ of the title a metaphor for the fear of love, which manifests in drastically different ways. ‘I found that a fascinating conceit,’ MacKay says. ‘The idea that the thing that attaches these two people to each other as soulmates is the thing that keeps them apart.’

Essentially three roles in one, MacKay plays two distinct takes on the traditional romantic leading man in the 1910 and 2044 sections –but 2014 Louis is the biggest swing. Here, MacKay plays an American character modelled on a real criminal who posted misogynistic screeds online and went on to murder six people in 2014.

‘I wanted to play around with this idea that 1910 Louis has the same fear as 2014, and has the same fear as 2044, and yet it manifests itself differently,’ says MacKay. ‘I would hope to transform myself to whatever’s needed.’

You perform long stretches of The Beast in French. Was that daunting?

That was always part of the deal. The original lead role was written for the French actor Gaspard Ulliel, who Bertrand worked with before on Saint Laurent. Then when Gaspard tragically passed away, Bertrand wanted to look outside of France. But, still, it’s fundamental that the character is French. I thought that would be an amazing challenge. I’ve spoken German in afilm before, and I had a bit more of a handle on French. Imean from GCSE –just about grabbed a ‘C’. [Laughs] It was actually my French teacher I WhatsApp-ed, and asked if she would read me my lines.

How much French did you feel you needed to understand to be an equal collaborator?

For the process of the audition, it was getting the phonetics correct. But beyond that, it became a big part of the job.

I wanted to understand what Léa was saying, what I was saying –as threedimensionally as I could –so that I could be directed, and so that I could act within it. There was a bit more English inserted into that first French portion of the story because of my involvement. And, actually, that made the English, ironically, the language of love between Gabrielle and Louis. There’s something very intimate about slipping into the privacy of a foreign language. But my big thing was wanting that to be totally unnoticeable.

Beyond the language barrier, it must have been a challenging role –three distinct eras and characters…

To be honest, it was one of the most exciting scripts I’d read for a long time. It’s not an easy film, but there’s this mixture of romance and existential thought with it. I’d never read a script so dense and so poetic and reaching so far with using the three different time zones. The reason for doing the film in general was Bertrand’s script, and how huge the vision was. To be a part of that was all I wanted to do.

Louis in 2014 is based on a real person who committed misogynistic terror attacks that same year. Did you have any concerns about embodying a character like that on screen?

Yeah, for sure. I don’t want to glorify that behaviour by giving it screen time. But, by the same token, the point of Bertrand using that particular man, and going verbatim with his way of being, and making these personal videos –it really tapped into a fear that I think is worth examining. Fear can be a very toxic thing. It’s the root of a lot of conflict and aggression. This guy, we could just use him as an extreme version of the worst version of fear. Being consumed by it. And then it coming out in such a spiteful way. Because it was used for that purpose I thought it was a worthwhile thing to explore.

‘THE BE AST WAS ON E OF THE MOST EXCITING SCR IPTS I ’D READ’

You’ve gravitated towards misanthropic characters in recent years. What is it about the darker side of humanity that you’re drawn to?

Maybe because I think it’s healthy to see the other side of the coin, so to speak. We do put our best foot forward in most situations. But the world is very imbalanced. The older I get, the more I’m aware of that. And, also, there’s the safety of doing it within stories. Somewhere within that tension is where I’m drawn to these characters and scripts.

Has your criteria for what roles you pursue changed over the years? Not really. It’s a mixture of a gut reaction, and then process. If the director offers something that is unique, or the character demands it, that’s always a big turn-on for me. As well as keeping an eye on: ‘This could be a cool thing to put in the world.’ So it’d be a mixture of those things. And often those are distilled by the writing and the character, but also the director as well.

I’ve been a fan of films particularly where the director’s vision has been very strong. So if I can be in service to a vision I believe in, then that’s a big pull to me.

You started acting very young in P.J. Hogan’s Peter Pan. When did it turn into a career for you?

It was that first experience [on Peter Pan] when I was 10. I don’t know that I ever consciously thought, ‘Oh, yeah, I could make this a whole living.’ But I remember there were adults who were doing it who, legitimately, it was their job. Seeing Gladiator for the first time –the DVD of Gladiator –and being like: ‘Wow’. The behind-the-scenes just blew my mind. And then working with Eddie Marsan [on 2012 BBC drama The Best of Men] when I was 19… Because there’s this reputation of actors being really pretentious, or difficult. I thought, ‘Oh, God, does that go with the territory?’ Eddie was so professional. He did all the things I thought an actor who works really hard does. And it made him better. But it was totally unselfconscious. It was a very practical thing that I found so inspiring. It genuinely was a bit of a eureka moment: ‘Wow, you can take this really seriously, and it not be difficult for others.’ And, therefore, if you treat it like a craft, you can get better at it as well. That seemed to answer all the worries I had about hoping to make an entire life out of it, as I was just leaving school.

You were cast in huge productions, like Defiance and Tsunami: The Aftermath, while still a teenager. Were those experiences a trial by fire?

Yeah. I guess the arena is a bit bigger. But the practicalities of it are no different from doing a school play. Obviously, the people that you’re doing it with, you understand the reputation of. There’s a huge amount of learning that comes with that, and the responsibility of there being lots of people. But the actual doing of it? Playing a scene is the same in an audition as it is in a rehearsal, as it is on set. What those experiences gave me was the opportunity to learn without thinking too much about it, before I had the concept of pressure. I don’t know exactly what it did to me, but you go, ‘Oh, those people are just people.’

Before the pandemic, you’d regularly appear in four to five films a year. What do you attribute that drive to work to?

I really love work, so I feel very lucky. My dad always worked really, really hard; I saw that growing up. It’s about, if the opportunities are there, wanting to give your all to them. It’s really competitive as well. To get the chance to be in these different things, it’s wonderful. The idea of being in those fundamental films – that’s huge. I get really inspired when you see a really good play or a really good film. People taking big swings and it coming off. I think that’s beautiful. I also like the idea that work could beget really good work. Maybe that’s something to trip up on. There’s a balance sometimes of not working for the sake of things, or overdoing it. I have to work harder at sitting still, sometimes. If I’ve got something to do, I feel so much calmer!

You haven’t participated in IP filmmaking. Has that been a conscious decision, or have the opportunities not been there?

It’s a mixture of both, to be honest. I’ve gone towards the projects that speak to me the most. But there have been a couple of bigger films that I would have loved to have been a part of –I just didn’t get the role. I’m a huge fan of those big visions, but often the budgets go to something that’s quite narrow, creatively. So when that budget goes with a big vision, it’s a dream.

I do believe that when choices are made almost algorithmically, as to like, ‘Well, that works, so now let’s do another one just like that’ –I think that is the death of creativity. I think there is a genuine danger with [films] being made on those terms, purely business-wise. I appreciate it does keep the lights on but, beyond the next financial year or so, it erodes people’s creativity, because it breeds a generation of arid thought.

That’s why I think there’s a sweet spot in terms of financing these bigger visions to inspire, but that wealth being shared among a more varied category of films. This last year has been great –Oppenheimer, Poor Things, The Zone of Interest, and Barbie, of course, which is a genius subversion of an IP-based film. Maybe it’s the tide shifting a wee bit.

Would the idea of starring in a blockbuster-scale project make you nervous about potential consequences on your life outside of work?

I try not to think about fame and things. It feels maybe a bit unrealistic to not talk about it, but that’s not something that’s crossed my path, for now. If I was ever lucky enough to be a part of something like that, I would hope that it’s a big film you really want to be a part of. Therefore, you understand what you give over in the process of that as well. But also I do believe that actors should be chameleons, and therefore it goes hand-in-hand with someone being anonymous, when you’re not in character.

Do you think fame is antithetical to being a chameleon on screen?

Yeah, totally. I think that’s the trick. If you go to see the big name –rather than going to see the character –it works against it. It’s a bit of a catch-22. People put a lot of money into these projects and you’ve got to get bums on seats. So if you want to be a part of those bigger projects often [fame is] a prerequisite. It’s a path to be walked. But I think that’s the contradiction. If you’re like, ‘Who the fuck is that?’ and you just see the character, it then becomes another thing. Then there’s an almost meta element –people might think there’s a correlation between the real person and the character. Then that narrows further opportunities, I guess.

In early 2020 you starred in films for Justin Kurzel and Sam Mendes –True History of the Kelly Gang and 1917. Did you have a sense going into those films that they would be pillars for your career? Ned…

I wanted that role more than anything. My dad’s Australian and I felt like Iwas at a point in my life, mid-20s, where you’re figuring out who you are, and looking back on your roots, and wanting to throw yourself into something with work. At the time, it was just me, myself and I. And genuinely [Kurzel’s] Snowtown is the most affected I’ve ever been in a cinema.

‘THE IDEA OF BEING IN THOSE FUNDAMENTAL FILMS – THAT’S HUGE’

I watched that at the Soho Curzon, and was floored. And then woke up sad the next day. I auditioned for Justin for a role in his Macbeth film and didn’t get it, but I was just so thrilled at getting to meet him. I was in awe of Justin. So the opportunity of doing a ‘young man; a family; who are you?; what does it all mean?’ film with Justin, and history, and Australia, and the process that he puts you through –it’s the most intense experience that I’ve ever had. It means so, so much to me, that film. I was prepping for months before and then the finances fell apart. It fell down for nearly half a year, and then came back up again. So Ned is always really close to my heart.

And 1917? That must have been a whirlwind…

It was almost because of the rigours of filming Ned that I came home and auditioned for 1917, and I remember thinking, ‘I know how this man feels.’ That thing of just trying to hold it together and carry on. [Laughs] It’s not like I’ve been through a war, but I just felt like I knew the sensibilities of Schofield. And then when Sam, for the third audition, sat down with Dean [Charles Chapman] and I, he was like, ‘Well, if you boys get to do this, it’s all going to be in one shot. So we’re going to rehearse for months.’ And it was like, ‘Oh my god, yeah!’ [Cinematographer, Roger] Deakins was getting mentioned, and Dennis Gassner, our production designer, and you’re like, ‘This is the best of the best!’ Those were such incredible working experiences that then when they came out and had a really wonderful run, that was an amazing time. So I wasn’t unaware. My gratefulness for getting those jobs was profound.

How much do roles like Ned Kelly and Schofield in 1917 take it out of you? Are they difficult characters to leave behind?

Not necessarily to leave behind. But, again, without sounding wanky, they mark you a little bit. I definitely felt marked by the experience of working with Justin –and I revered that. I would love to do it again, absolutely, in a heartbeat. It’s so many things. It’s confusing. It’s affirming. It’s blissful. But it was tough, you know? And with 1917 there was a profound life lesson towards the end of that. The film starts on the move. It happens in real time. And it ends on the move. You know that after the last frame of the film when he closes his eyes –he’ll probably take a minute, get up, get some food, and he’ll probably get drafted to another battle, and it just carries on. The profundity in it is how much attention to pay to the moment.

FIVE STAR TURNS

SUNSHINE ON LEITH (2013)

MacKay plays a squaddie (one of several across his career) who returns home from Afghanistan and finds love to the feel-good beats of The Proclaimers in Dexter Fletcher’s adaptation of the stage musical. All together now: ‘But I would walk 500 miles…’

CAPTAIN FANTASTIC (2016)

Captain Fantastic put Viggo Mortensen on the awards circuit but MacKay deserved to be there alongside him. As eldest son Bodevan he voices the discontent of his siblings, raised in the wilderness by their survivalist father.

1917 (2020)

Sam Mendes’ technically dazzling war movie tracks MacKay’s Lance Corporal Schofield on a physically gruelling ordeal to deliver a vital message across enemy territory. The climactic ‘Schofield Run’ – featuring two unscripted collisions – was achieved on the second take.

TRUE HISTORY OF THE KELLY GANG (2020)

MacKay cemented his mastery of accents and complex characterisations with his portrayal of bushranger Ned Kelly. Released days before lockdown in the UK, and under-seen as a result, it’s one of that year’s finest performances.

FEMME (2023)

Demonstrating a willingness to go to very dark places, MacKay plays a closeted thug who commits a homophobic attack on Nathan Stewart-Jarrett’s drag queen, only to unwittingly enter into a consensual sexual relationship with his revenge-fuelled victim. JF

‘THERE’S SOMETHING UNEQUIVOCAL ABOUT THE BODY’

That’s the point of the film and I think that’s the point of a lot of Sam’s work.

Then the rigour with which Justin made me focus on Ned, it narrows your focus. That was quite a healthy pair of lessons to learn, to then make peace with finishing those jobs. And, beautifully, I had a lot of stuff in my personal life open up. After 1917, there was lots to tend to there instead of work for a wee while, too.

Many of your recent performances are connected by an intense, transformative physicality. When did using your body as an instrument become as important as it has become to you?

I’m fascinated with extremes. There’s something unequivocal about the body. There’s something tangible that can’t be faked. And in the doing of it, you can feel it. Abig part of that came from Justin as well, with the shape we had to get into with Ned, and Matt [Ross] on Captain Fantastic as well. Afirst impression is so fundamental, because if you don’t have a surface level, you can’t even begin with subtext. The physical side of things, for me, that’s a good anchor for other stuff.

Are there any projects that you’re particularly proud of that didn’t get the recognition at the time?

I was really touched that you brought up True History of the Kelly Gang, because it got

a good response from the folk that did see it, but it landed right at the top of the pandemic, so it went straight to streaming, quite quickly. That is a very personal project. There was a project, Bypass, that I did years ago that, again, everyone just threw themselves at. And it was, personally, a really fundamental experience. Wolf… I don’t know if it got released in UK cinemas, and Iknow that was [director Nathalie Biancheri’s] intention.

You filmed scenes for Shane Meadows’ The Gallows Pole that were ultimately cut. Is that a difficult thing to deal with as an actor?

Yes and no. I’m such a fan of Shane’s work, and still am. And I love the series as well, The Gallows Pole. What’s so amazing about Shane is, he follows his process. So much of the story was found in the moment, and expanded in a way that went away from the character that I played, and others. In a sense, it’s great that happens. There is a version that maybe would have been diluted creatively that would have involved everything it was meant to, and maybe it wouldn’t have been what the series was. That, I learned.

Personally, I totally feel grand with it. You want people to see that work, and for it to be a calling card for the next one, hopefully. But it’s a proper test of: what an experience is to you in the moment, is the truth of it, and what it is to everyone else, you have to let be.

Are there other filmmakers who you haven’t had the chance to work with yet that you’d like to?

Yeah. Denis Villeneuve, is he listening? [Laughs] People like Denis Villeneuve and Greig Fraser, his DoP, and his crew members as well, who are working on a top, top level, on that big, big scale, but purely creatively –I feel like that’s the dream. There’s very few, really. It’s Nolan, Denis Villeneuve, Steve McQueen. Those who have managed to walk that path –Yorgos Lanthimos and Jonathan Glazer as well –people who are making artistic films on a bigger scale, purely to facilitate that vision.

You’ve got Joshua Oppenheimer’s The End coming up. What can you say?

It’s a musical. It’s about a family who are the last family on Earth, who live inside of a bunker, with which they’ve kept themselves safe. And it’s about the micro-dynamics of this family, and how they came to be the last family on Earth, ostensibly. Josh’s documentaries are so stunning, and I think this is a subject on which he is quite an expert about –the ramifications of smaller actions, of denial. And he’s created this amazing script that interrogates all of that via this family in a very heightened scenario. His reasons for turning it into a musical are totally legitimate, and really harnessing [the genre] for all the things that he wants to explore and provoke. I feel really proud to be a part of it. You’ve got Tilda [Swinton] and Michael Shannon. And the DoP as well, Mikhail Krichman, who did Leviathan and Loveless. And Josh Schmidt, the composer. The music is just gorgeous as well. It was a really stellar team. I feel very glad to be in the mix. I’m really intrigued to see how it all turns out. I haven’t seen the finished film yet. I know they’re not too far away from it. Hopefully folk will be getting to see it in the not-too-distant future.

What is your 10-year plan?

It’s just to continue learning, and all of those learning experiences facilitate what you want to do next. Also, some of it is out of my control as well. I want to get better at it. That’s that, really. In a sense, if you’re true to that, that will help inform all of the other things. The context with which you do it, and how you do it, and why you do it –it’s just wanting to get better. It’s just to get better. That’s it.

Are there more French-language films in your future?

Yeah. If they come along. I hope they understand I need a fair bit of practice beforehand! But totally. It was really lovely to work properly in France with a French crew, and how they revere cinema, and the vibe on set, and culturally what’s valued, and what’s different. I’d love to do more French films. But there’s Italian and Spanish. I’m up for all of it. I thought that was so classy with Sandra Hüller –two [BAFTA] nominations in three different languages. It’s very, very classy.

THE BEAST OPENS IN CINEMAS ON 31 MAY.