A Quiet Actor Who Gets Noticed

Those who know Irish actor Stephen Rea only through his work will be surprised to learn that he does a killer Walter Matthau impression. Familiar to U.S. moviegoers for his portrayal of an IRA terrorist in Neil Jordan’s acclaimed film of 1992, “The Crying Game,” Rea rarely does anything frivolous on screen.

A private man who’s avoided the media work-over that makes actors user-friendly to mainstream audiences and thus can translate into big paychecks, Rea prefers to devote much of his time to difficult plays that earn him a comparatively modest living. Currently featured in “Michael Collins,” Jordan’s film about the Irish freedom fighter, Rea won’t be attending any of its premieres for precisely that reason: He’s busy through Oct. 26 on a London stage with “Ashes to Ashes,” a new play written and directed by Harold Pinter.

Meeting with a reporter at a Beverly Hills hotel, the 48-year-old Rea looks as if he’s about to undergo a root canal. Clearly not eager to bare his soul, he is, however, happy to share the contents of his well-stocked mind, and he proves an agile conversationalist with a wickedly dry sense of humor.

Of “The Crying Game,” which launched his stateside career, Rea says: “That’s a very complete piece of work, isn’t it? The structure of the two halves, a man leaving one world and entering another--Neil worked on it for a long time and it’s really good writing. Can you imagine what some people would’ve done with the subjects of transvestites and the IRA? Yet out of that Neil fashioned a story rooted in the belief that love is always possible, and I think that’s why it touched people as it did.”

Rea’s performing career began at age 4 when he played the wolf in a school production of “Little Red Riding Hood.” Born in Belfast in 1947, the son of a bus driver, Rea grew up with a front-row seat on Ireland’s “troubles”; he and his three siblings were well acquainted with the lore surrounding Collins. A mythical figure in Ireland’s struggle for independence that began in 1919, Collins helped negotiate the controversial Anglo-Irish Treaty of 1922 and was murdered later that year by opponents of partition.

“Ireland’s refusal to deal with its unfinished history resulted in Collins being erased for decades from our history books, which is extraordinary, really. It’s as if Americans were told to forget the Kennedys,” says Rea, who lives in Dublin with his wife of 13 years, Dolours Price, and their two sons. “Neil’s been trying to make this film for years, though, and every Irish actor wanted to be in it. My character, Broy, is a composite of several people, and he interested me because he’s a man with a secret. Broy has the demeanor of a passive man, so the challenge in playing him was to be still without being empty.”

Of England’s ongoing occupation of Ireland, Rea says, “It’s a painful situation and I don’t know when it will be resolved.” As to whether Jordan’s film could play a role in ending the conflict, he says, “Art can’t suddenly change things, but anything that provokes discussion and understanding can only help.”

Asked what sort of cultural milieu he grew up in, Rea recalls, “We didn’t have a television, so I grew up with books. This isn’t to suggest I’m an intellectual, but I do read a lot because part of acting is an exploration of literature. I loved movies as a teenager and saw as much American cinema as I could, but I hated the English films of the early ‘60s and had absolutely no point of identification with them.

“[Director] Mike Leigh is obviously a product of that tradition, and I remember watching myself in his film of 1990, ‘Life Is Sweet’ and thinking, ‘Jeez, this is exactly the kind of film I hated when I was a kid.’ The difference is that Mike is a brilliant filmmaker who approaches this territory from a completely different point of view.”

Graduating from Ireland’s Queen’s University with a bachelor’s degree in English literature, Rea established himself as an actor in London in 1973 with an acclaimed performance in Brian Friel’s play, “Freedom of the City.” He spent the next six years working in television and theater, and in 1980 he and Friel formed Field Day, a theater company devoted to new Irish plays. Rea’s relationship with Jordan began the same year, when he gave Rea the lead in his debut film, “Angel.” Twelve years later Jordan cast him in “The Crying Game,” whose success led to roles for Rea in four major U.S. productions in 1994, including “Interview With the Vampire” and “Pret-a-Porter.”

“I only see movies on planes now, and on the way here I saw ‘Fargo’ and ‘Mulholland Falls,’ both of which were incredibly violent.

“We live in a violent world so it must be depicted, but the way most filmmakers handle it is terribly repetitive. Bob Altman’s one of the few who don’t succumb to that; he does violence and it’s terrible, but it’s terribly real. There aren’t many people doing great American films right now, but Altman’s ‘Kansas City’ got right to the core of what America is; it was so rich in terms of the social fabric of the period it depicted, and the music of that time and place.”

Rea maintains a close relationship with theater, and he’s really in his element when the conversation turns to plays.

“I was in a production of ‘Endgame’ in London, and Beckett attended the rehearsals. Needless to say, I was intimidated by him. Beckett is really the hardest thing to do because he’s so minimal and there’s nowhere to hide in his work.

“Beckett offered the possibility of the transformation of drama in the 20th century, but Pinter and Sam Shepard are the only ones who picked up where he left off,” says Rea, who’s appeared in three Shepard plays and directed a production of “Little Ocean.”

“There’s a connection between Pinter and Beckett in that both have a savage worldview. Their work is funny, yes, but there’s no way out, and as an actor if you really enter that place, it can be very punishing.

“I don’t find their work depressing, however, because they take such pleasure in language, and although the world they create is bleak, it seems accurate to me. In the end it’s been a ghastly century. We’re living in a time that’s been stripped of anything spiritual; we’ve been reduced to the bare bones of ourselves and are spared nothing.”

Asked if he sees a connection between Beckett and Pinter’s theater of the absurd and Neil Jordan, he says, “Yes, in that Neil refuses to be restricted by naturalism. A young boy turns up at the end of ‘Michael Collins,’ for instance, who’s not at all naturalistic and puts a weird spin on the story. There’s something sexual about this character, and he can’t be explained in purely naturalistic terms.”

Returning to the subject of playwrights, Rea mentions Tennessee Williams, whom he met when a Williams play was staged in London.

“A friend of mine was casting it, and she asked me to come and read with the actors they were auditioning. I was working at the National Theatre of England then and she knew I wasn’t available, but she offered me a fiver, so I went.

“So we read this thing and there’s old Tennessee sitting down there, and when we finished, the casting agent turned to him and said, ‘What do you want to do, Tennessee?’ And he replied, ‘I wanna read with Stephen!’

“He knew I wasn’t available but he just felt like reading with me, so he came up and we read a few scenes from his play. When we finished reading and were walking offstage, I asked him, ‘Do you think we got the part?’ He turned and shouted down to the stalls, ‘Did we get the part?’ then laughed loudly in this distinctive way he had. I haven’t thought about this for a long time, and it moves me to remember it.”

Rea isn’t slated to do a Williams play, but he can soon be seen in Gillies MacKinnon’s film “Trojan Eddy.” “It’s a story about travelers in Ireland, and I play a trader whose wife has left him,” he explains. “Everybody thinks he’s a loser, but he’s got a little plan going and is doing the best he can.”

Rea also just wrapped Neil Jordan’s adaptation of Patrick McKay’s novel “The Butcher Boy,” which is slated for release next fall.

From Neil Jordan we leap to another Rea favorite, Neil Simon. “I like his work a lot and especially love ‘The Sunshine Boys,’ which is a form of ‘Waiting for Godot,’ ” he says. “Why can’t you treat me like a person!” Rea bellows, quoting a Walter Matthau line from the film. Catching himself, Rea laughs and confides, “I’ve had a bit of whiskey, so now I’m doing Walter Matthau.”