It’s hard to come by any better example of a true artist—and split personality—than Andrew Garfield. He came out of the womb as “a lunatic, a wild animal, a clown,” who couldn’t hang with rules, threatened to tear up our studio, and regularly butted heads with a father who wanted him to choose a “safe” career. He’s also piled up acclaim for consistently soulful, vulnerable performances in a career full of uncannily successful projects. He admits to having both a Caligula-like ego, and an “inner accountant” who reminds him he’ll never be enough. He loves a scene one day and is horrified by it the next. It makes you wonder how he’s able to survive as an actor; and also how he could ever survive any other way. Garfield muses on working with directors as diverse as Scorsese, Gibson and Fincher, why he loves acting, and the role of storyteller in celebrity culture. You will never see Death of a Salesman or listen to “Vincent” the same way again.
It’s hard to come by any better example of a true artist—and split personality—than Andrew Garfield. He came out of the womb as “a lunatic, a wild animal, a clown,” who couldn’t hang with rules, threatened to tear up our studio, and regularly butted heads with a father who wanted him to choose a “safe” career. He’s also piled up acclaim for consistently soulful, vulnerable performances in a career full of uncannily successful projects. He admits to having both a Caligula-like ego, and an “inner accountant” who reminds him he’ll never be enough. He loves a scene one day and is horrified by it the next. It makes you wonder how he’s able to survive as an actor; and also how he could ever survive any other way. Garfield muses on working with directors as diverse as Scorsese, Gibson and Fincher, why he loves acting, and the role of storyteller in celebrity culture. You will never see Death of a Salesman or listen to “Vincent” the same way again.
When you grow up ping-ponging between three very different worlds on one very small island, you learn a lot about your place – or lack thereof – in life. Turns out you also learn a lot about acting. Not that Riz Ahmed ever assumed that was an option; despite the joy he found in school plays, he took a look at the entertainment cultural complex and just didn’t see playing Taxi Driver Number Three as a feasible way to make a living. Then again, he didn’t see much future as a desk jockey either, and over the last 10 years, he’s built one of the most diverse and acclaimed artistic careers we’ve ever had the pleasure of digging into. He’s come to realize that specific personal experience resonates across all borders, and why shouldn’t it? As he points out, we’re all mongrels in one way or another. We sit down with Riz to talk about how his culture informs his art, how life is likely to change after The Night Of and Star Wars, and how one night in a London club taught him that the place where you think you don’t belong is exactly the place where you should be.
When you grow up ping-ponging between three very different worlds on one very small island, you learn a lot about your place – or lack thereof – in life. Turns out you also learn a lot about acting. Not that Riz Ahmed ever assumed that was an option; despite the joy he found in school plays, he took a look at the entertainment cultural complex and just didn’t see playing Taxi Driver Number Three as a feasible way to make a living. Then again, he didn’t see much future as a desk jockey either, and over the last 10 years, he’s built one of the most diverse and acclaimed artistic careers we’ve ever had the pleasure of digging into. He’s come to realize that specific personal experience resonates across all borders, and why shouldn’t it? As he points out, we’re all mongrels in one way or another. We sit down with Riz to talk about how his culture informs his art, how life is likely to change after The Night Of and Star Wars, and how one night in a London club taught him that the place where you think you don’t belong is exactly the place where you should be.
When you grow up ping-ponging between three very different worlds on one very small island, you learn a lot about your place – or lack thereof – in life. Turns out you also learn a lot about acting. Not that Riz Ahmed ever assumed that was an option; despite the joy he found in school plays, he took a look at the entertainment cultural complex and just didn’t see playing Taxi Driver Number Three as a feasible way to make a living. Then again, he didn’t see much future as a desk jockey either, and over the last 10 years, he’s built one of the most diverse and acclaimed artistic careers we’ve ever had the pleasure of digging into. He’s come to realize that specific personal experience resonates across all borders, and why shouldn’t it? As he points out, we’re all mongrels in one way or another. We sit down with Riz to talk about how his culture informs his art, how life is likely to change after The Night Of and Star Wars, and how one night in a London club taught him that the place where you think you don’t belong is exactly the place where you should be.
Michael Shannon is not here to entertain you or amaze you with the awesomeness of his performances (though that’s usually what winds up happening). So why go into acting, let alone do ten films this calendar year? In the beginning, theater was a way to get a few things off his chest without being told to shut up. Even though he maintains that it’s a mystery how anyone acts, time and experience have taught him why: Plain and simple, he’s here to help somebody tell a story; and if that story can provide a fuller experience of life for him or his audience, all the better. To do that, “You have to be able to understand people that you otherwise wouldn’t even attempt to understand.” These days, maybe that’s not bad advice for any of us. Shannon shares how the art he found to avoid pain turned into a career, and what he loves about it today. He still has a few things to get off his chest (like people who watch Hitchcock films on iPhones), so read on before you invite him to your next fish fry.
Michael Shannon is not here to entertain you or amaze you with the awesomeness of his performances (though that’s usually what winds up happening). So why go into acting, let alone do ten films this calendar year? In the beginning, theater was a way to get a few things off his chest without being told to shut up. Even though he maintains that it’s a mystery how anyone acts, time and experience have taught him why: Plain and simple, he’s here to help somebody tell a story; and if that story can provide a fuller experience of life for him or his audience, all the better. To do that, “You have to be able to understand people that you otherwise wouldn’t even attempt to understand.” These days, maybe that’s not bad advice for any of us. Shannon shares how the art he found to avoid pain turned into a career, and what he loves about it today. He still has a few things to get off his chest (like people who watch Hitchcock films on iPhones), so read on before you invite him to your next fish fry.
Michael Shannon is not here to entertain you or amaze you with the awesomeness of his performances (though that’s usually what winds up happening). So why go into acting, let alone do ten films this calendar year? In the beginning, theater was a way to get a few things off his chest without being told to shut up. Even though he maintains that it’s a mystery how anyone acts, time and experience have taught him why: Plain and simple, he’s here to help somebody tell a story; and if that story can provide a fuller experience of life for him or his audience, all the better. To do that, “You have to be able to understand people that you otherwise wouldn’t even attempt to understand.” These days, maybe that’s not bad advice for any of us. Shannon shares how the art he found to avoid pain turned into a career, and what he loves about it today. He still has a few things to get off his chest (like people who watch Hitchcock films on iPhones), so read on before you invite him to your next fish fry.
