Hollywood Authentic’s restaurant correspondent Abbie Cornish tastes hyper-seasonal elegance in the heart of Hollywood.
Nestled between Hollywood and Larchmont Village, Kali is a neighbourhood restaurant that redefines Californian cuisine through a refined yet accessible lens. Created by lifelong friends Chef Kevin Meehan and Drew Langley, it offers an approachable take on fine dining, emphasising ingredient integrity, technical prowess and exceptional service. A casual yet refined experience in an environment that is both relaxed and distinguished.
Kali’s contemporary Californian charm is evident the moment you step inside. The restaurant’s interior is fresh and inviting, featuring wooden accents and cushioned seating with soft white tones. Blue-and-white paintings provide a subtle touch of artistry, making the space simple yet cosy. This unpretentious setting perfectly complements the restaurant’s mission: to deliver cuisine that is organic, sustainable, rooted in quality ingredients, elevated by an understated elegance. The open kitchen serves as a central feature, giving diners a glimpse into the craft behind each dish.
Chef Kevin Meehan’s culinary expertise is evident throughout Kali. With a career that includes time at the Patina Restaurant Group, Meehan has cultivated a unique style blending technical prowess with creativity. He met Langley in 2001 while both were working at L’Orangerie, and their partnership has only grown stronger since. Before opening Kali, Langley served as the wine director at Providence, bringing a wealth of experience to their collaboration and ensuring Kali’s success.
Kali’s hospitality is exceptional. The staff bring a perfect blend of warmth and professionalism, guiding guests through the evening with ease. From recommending ideal wine pairings to providing insights into the seasonal menu, their dedication to Kali’s vision is evident, making every guest feel valued.
The menu is a tribute to California’s rich agricultural bounty – around 90 per cent of the ingredients are sourced from local farms, emphasising organic and sustainable practices. This focus results in a dynamic, seasonal menu that brings out the best in every ingredient. A menu that celebrates the intrinsic qualities of each and every component, allowing their flavors to be fully realised.
The chef’s tasting menu is a showcase of contemporary Californian cuisine, featuring nine courses that highlight the restaurant’s dedication to fresh, seasonal ingredients. Each dish, from the truffle mushroom risotto (more of which later) to the dry-aged lamb chop with allium XO sauce and chanterelles, serves as homage to the culinary possibilities inherent in the local landscape. For plant-based diners, a dedicated tasting menu ensures an equally enriching experience.
Our dining experience commenced with the Crowded Beach, a vibrant assortment of mussels, uni, clams, yellowtail and other treasures of the sea, each bite bursting with fresh, oceanic flavor. Followed by the Beef Tartar Cigar, an inventive presentation of finely seasoned beef tartare encased in a crispy shell, accompanied by a rich yolk dip for added depth. A highlight of the meal was the mushroom risotto, featuring spigarello, Fiscalini cheddar and oyster mushrooms. Adding the truffle supplement brought an extra layer of indulgence to the dish, enhancing its flavor complexity. The autumn salad showcased fresh produce from the farmers’ market, offering a vibrant and refreshing prelude to the mains. Among them was the sea urchin pasta. This pasta stood out with its creamy emulsion and delicate breadcrumb topping, capturing a sense of oceanic luxury. The Liberty Farms duck breast was tender and well-paired with kuri squash and autumn spices, embodying the warm flavours of the season.
For dessert, Meehan fashioned a toasted meringue gelato made with Strauss cream. Shaved on top was a house-cured egg yolk that offers a sweet-and-salty texture, resulting in a dessert with a rich, decadent mouthfeel balanced with a light, airy texture – a fitting finale to an exceptional meal.
Langley’s carefully curated wine programme is a testament to his extensive experience and knowledge. The wine list showcases an impressive selection of both local and international wines, with an emphasis on Central Coast varietals and rare, small-production bottles sourced from private collections. For a truly immersive experience, opting for the wine pairing with the tasting menu is highly recommended.
Kali’s handcrafted cocktails are just as noteworthy. The Alley Cat, with amaretto, strawberry tequila and Luxardo, was bold and flavourful; while the Shanah Tovah, made with Tom Cat gin, honey apple and kombucha, provided a refreshing and unique twist.
Kali offers more than just a meal – it delivers an experience that stays with you long after the last bite. Meehan and Langley have crafted a space that is personal yet sophisticated, with every detail thoughtfully considered. Whether you’re a local searching for a new favourite spot or from out of town and eager to explore Los Angeles’ culinary offerings, Kali is a neighbourhood gem that’s well worth a visit. Tell Chef Kevin I sent you…
Photographs by KALI Words by ABBIE CORNISH 5722 Melrose Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90038 www.kalirestaurant.com
Photographs by GREG WILLIAMS Interview by JANE CROWTHER
Greg Williams steps on set of the fourth Bridget Jones instalment and director Michael Morris tells Hollywood Authentic why this latest chapter is reassuringly the same – but different.
On the surface, there may be little similarity between director Michael Morris’ last film – searing, raw social drama with Andrea Riseborough, To Leslie – and his latest, the fourth outing for a romantic comedy franchise that sees an older Bridget Jones try to find new love after the death of Mark Darcy. ‘This isn’t a sort of genre that I usually play in,’ Morris admits when Hollywood Authentic catches up with him during a break from mixing Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy. ‘But what I saw in this was: how often do you get a chance to take not just a character who’s completely beloved and who we’ve known for 20 years, but a relationship, in Bridget and Darcy, that is beloved? What you end up with is a challenge as a filmmaker: can you do a comedy of grief? That, to me, became the animating principle of the film. So everything became more grounded about this film. I want it to still be everything we love about Bridget, but now she’s in a different part of her life. It gave me the opportunity to tell the story differently.’
In that respect, Mad About the Boy shares some commonalities with To Leslie – a woman struggling with loss, parenting and her reality told through a virtuoso actor. ‘Renée’s a character actress first, who happens to be a movie star. It’s pretty spectacular what she, Helen [Fielding] and Working Title have put together over the years. I can’t think of another film franchise that is about a woman who doesn’t fly or turn into an animal or can breathe underwater. Bridget’s just a person. It’s brilliant.’
While Zellweger and her original cast return for a tale set in London amid the snow (Morris actually shot in mid summer and trucked in fake snow to Flask Walk in Hampstead, which is where Greg Williams captured some on-set moments), new romantic options also meant new cast members. Chiwetel Ejiofor is one possibility as teacher, Mr Wallaker, and Leo Woodall (see page 12) as young Royal Parks officer, Roxster. ‘Casting Chiwetel opposite Renée is a statement of its own because he’s such a beautiful, nuanced actor known for all kinds of drama, as well as being able to do comedy. And Leo leapt out because he’s my favourite kind of actor – he can straddle both leading man and character actor.’
While Morris admits to feeling somewhat daunted by the legacy of Bridget Jones, he notes that having a cast who have worked together over 25 years created added poignancy. ‘I think there’s a great sense of joy about everybody getting back together again, and finding a story that really needed to be told. Not just doing it again, but there’s a reason to tell this particular story in her life. But there’s a sense of an ending, and it made it quite emotional.’
Words by CATHERINE MARTIN/ARIANNE PHILLIPS Introduction by JEREMY LANGMEAD
The highly decorated costume and production designer behind opulent visual feasts such Romeo + Juliet, Moulin Rouge and Elvis talks Arianne Phillips through her career, ChatGPT, parental inspiration and her nemesis on set.
Catherine Martin is a true polymath. She has an extraordinary ability to bring to life, through her award-winning costume, production and set designs, the vision of her partner in life, and in film, the director Baz Luhrmann. Together they had created visually spectacular and compelling storytelling through movies such as Romeo + Juliet, Moulin Rouge, The Great Gatsby and Elvis.
Catherine has had 78 awards nominations and 62 wins, including four Oscars. In fact, she has been nominated for and twice won two Oscars in the same year – costume and production design for Moulin Rouge and The Great Gatsby. The only woman to do so since Edith Head in the 1950s.
Here Catherine, with her trademark modesty and good humour, talks to Arianne about balancing high creativity and daunting logistics, setting boundaries when working with your partner, and raising children to researching Joan of Arc.
AP: Hi Catherine. So great to meet you. We’ve never actually met.
CM: I know. And I’m a huge fan of what you do. I went and saw all the Madonna shows and saw what you did for her, and I just thought, ‘Wow!’
AP: Thank you. Well what I love about you is that you’re a multi-hyphenate – not just a costume designer, production designer, producer, but you’re also an entrepreneur, and you do interiors. I’m so just thrilled to hear about your process and what it’s like having your life partner also be your creative partner. And when do you have time for all this? You also have a family. How did this multi-hyphenate life begin?
CM: Thank you. Well when I was still studying at NIDA (National Institute of Dramatic Arts) in Sydney I worked on set design and costume projects for the theatre. And so when I met Baz, who had graduated from NIDA just before me, I’d already had experience of both when we started working together on Strictly Ballroom (1992).
Strictly Ballroom, 1992. RANK/Alamy
AP: A lot of people don’t understand the tradition that in the theatre, set designers will often also design the costumes. There’s a real fluid flow in theatre and in opera. What I love about your trajectory is that both you and Baz have this real theatre foundation, and it really makes sense that you’re able to continue this type of fluid work between sets and costumes in the films you create.
CM: Absolutely. Baz always says that in film a lot of the time sets are the costumes because 30% of a film is in close-up. And then if you have a big crowd scene, well, the set is kind of obliterated by the crowd – and it is they who create the atmosphere or the milieu in which the story is told. So he’s very focused on everything visual. You know, every single detail he will have a perspective on. Baz is a visualist, and he will have a strong idea of how he wants something to look. He’ll rip pictures out of magazines; he will draw little scribbly pictures that are very helpful; he is now, very scarily, starting to talk to Chat GPT. And what I think is incredible is that I can’t get good pictures out of Chat GPT, but he talks to it like a director and corrects it and then the images actually make sense. I just go, how can you make such great pictures? I’m meant to be somebody who’s a designer and I can barely get it to give me a cat that doesn’t have 6 legs.
AP: It’s a testament to his verbal acumen that he’s able to express aesthetics, because that is a gift and a skill. In my experience most directors are completely unable to express aesthetics, which is so crazy.
CM: He has a really strong aesthetic, obviously. But at the same time, what makes it great is he’s not like, you know, Charlie Chaplin, the great dictator, with a big ball running around his office. He’s actually engaging with you as a true collaborator: ‘now how do we work this out?’ And he doesn’t do it just with design. He’ll do it with music. He’ll do it with movement. He’ll do it with the actors. So what’s rewarding is you’re not just another cog in the wheel. You feel connected to all the other people in the team.
AP: You both have such a strong aesthetic and visual identity, I wonder what movies you loved or that had inspired you when you first started out creating your own stories?
CM: I think the movie that absolutely struck me the most when I was a kid was The Wizard of Oz. I think I first saw it when I was 10. My dad is a huge movie buff. Even though he’s a professor of French, and a specialist in 18th-century French literature, he’s just loved the movies from when he was a child. He was actually a child actor. And he would tell you all about how they did everything – like when someone’s telling you about the special camera they invented for Snow White, the multi-plane camera so that it felt like you were moving through time and space. When you’re a child, it sometimes takes the magic out of it all, but noone could take the magic out, or the fear I had, from those monkeys. I still find them terrifying. And I really wanted those red shoes with the sparkles on them. And I also liked the pale blue socks she wore with the red shoes. I thought it was so ugly, but so good. And this is now very politically incorrect, but you must remember that I was a child when I first saw it, but I was in awe of Gone With the Wind. It was just so enormous and epic.
Moulin Rouge!, 2021. 20th Century Fox/Alamy
AP: The scale, magic and colours of those epic movies are all reflected in your work. As is the transportive nature of those films – whether it’s through Moulin Rouge or The Great Gatsby. I’m just curious about when you are in the early development phase with your films, and you and Baz have privilege of being partners in life, as well as in film, do you discuss your work at the dinner table… how you come together with your early ideas about the films that you’re deciding to make?
CM: It has to be relatively disciplined because, ultimately, Baz is the decision maker. And we’ve had to learn to have a process for him to discover what he wants to actually make the next time – because he commits hook, line and sinker. So every time we go into that moment he needs to go off on a kind of quest to find that idea that he wants to commit to. And then there’s a process of him telling the larger group the story. So I would be one of the first people to hear that story. And then he would tell our other colleagues. And then he might start talking to the casting director about it in order to start fleshing out the story for himself.
Baz is in a writing mode at the moment, and that’s a very specific and singular thing for him. And whilst he’s on that journey I will do external kind of research. His next project is Jeanne D’Arc and I will obviously read the book on which the story is based and generally research around the subject. We’ve already done some field trips to see various people and places and museums. In fact, I’m going to Rouen tomorrow to see where poor Joan of Arc was burned at the stake. But in earnest, I’ll be invited into the design process in a quite formal way
AP: I get it.
CM: So, yes, we talk about everything and anything. But when you work and live together, you kind of have to have systems in order to create the space for the other person to not trample them creatively. So I know if Baz has a really good chance to brief me, he’ll give me the space and time to give it my best shot, then I’ll be ready to present it to a group. And presenting can be really traumatising because when you present something you actually see all the flaws that were not real to you when you were just sitting in your room by yourself, or with your immediate team, or whatever. But what’s great is that it doesn’t matter if you fail. You just have to go back to the drawing board and give it your best.
AP: Catherine, when you speak about presenting to the group, it’s reminiscent of what we do in theatre, right, or in opera when you present. And I love that process, that structure, because it is exactly what you say: when you do present it’s like reading your writing out loud. Then you understand, ‘oh, I need to work on this more, this doesn’t work’, but that is such a gift. Having done a little bit of opera and a little bit of theatre, I found that that process is nerve wracking, but wholly rewarding. And I am jealous that you have this partnership and this structure that you’re able to do that with your film work. That’s fabulous.
CM: The big advantage with theatre is that you effectively have 100 opening nights, instead of one. Whereas someone could be wearing a terrible wig on opening night in the play, for whatever reason, you can fix it in the run. Once you’ve shot something, you can never change it. Perhaps with visual effects, but costume fixes are a lower priority in that budget. Most people would rather fix a stunt or a building than a costume or a wig.
AP: Yeah, that’s right.
CM: I’m always, like, ‘can you close the shirt? And what about the fact that the sock’s not long enough going up into the trunk?’ I can see these are the things that as costume designers drive us crazy, right? And, oh my god, I wish there was a special erase button for bad shoes. Why is that person with the bad shoes right in the front? Can you put good shoes on?
AP: Ha. Always. How do you manage your team when you are designing sets and costumes, and you’re also a producer…how does that work?
CM: Well, it takes me nearly to the brink of a nervous breakdown. And in fact, although it was only partially to do with work, but a combination of COVID, two children in their late teens, my mother breaking a hip, and so much to do that I actually did have a bit of a nervous breakdown…
AP: I’m sorry to hear that.
Elvis, 2022. Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc./Alamy
CM: It was just a lot. So, you know, Elvis wasn’t a perfect journey because I really did become extremely depressed at one point. And you don’t realise that that’s happening to you. It’s just like the oxygen’s being taken out of the room in tiny little gulps. And one of our children was having, you know, suicidal ideation. They’re totally fine now. That’s the thing about children, that one minute it’s like the end of the world for them, and then they turn around and say ‘that’s over now, I’m good’. I wish I was as resilient. So it’s not perfect, you know, all the time. And I think that was just a really tough period. And I underestimated too how much work Elvis would be. Initially I thought the movie might be a bit of a psychological rest because we were not world-building from scratch, we were recreating one. But, of course, it wasn’t like that at all. It was world-building and there were around 9,000 complete outfits. And sometimes I just felt like I was in Indiana Jones and there was a giant ball coming behind me. And I kept thinking ‘how can there be 105 speaking parts?’ And I was a producer. And I would go to my fellow producers and colleague, Schulyer Weiss – because his creative area is casting – can you cut some of these parts because there aren’t enough clothes in the world!
AP: Wow, I can imagine. This Bob Dylan movie I just did, A Complete Unknown, had 120 speaking parts. It’s a lot.
CM: It is. Since Elvis, however, things have changed so much. Both kids are at university; they have their own lives; one is living at home at the moment, and the other one lives three minutes away in an apartment. And it means I’ve just had more creative opportunity this year in a way that I haven’t before because, you know, I’m now less tied to the children. I love my children. Best thing I ever did. But you go through this weird seesaw moment where you go, ‘oh my god, they’re leaving home. The whole meaning of my life has been removed. This is a disaster’. And then you go, ‘oh, freedom, freedom!’
AP: Ha. Because, as you’ve alluded to, there are so many logistics to plan and solve in your work with Baz, how are you able to separate the vision and the practicals when planning a project so that one doesn’t hamper the other?
CM: I think you have to have the idea first. You have to have the concept, the idea, and then you have to work out how to do it. Obviously, when people whose names shall remain nameless – but their name might rhyme with Faz – ask you to build the Eiffel Tower the day before the Eiffel Tower has to be there, maybe you do get a little tight in the chest. But you’ve got to go: ‘Okay. Now you may not be able to build the Eiffel Tower, but what are they actually saying to you? What do they actually want? What does the Eiffel Tower symbolise? What does it mean? Why do we need it? Okay, now what’s the solution?’ It’s the same thing in costumes all the time. Actors might not like something they’re wearing. And, usually, for a very good reason, but it might not be the reason they’re saying. You have to sort of get into the head of the person to understand what they’re really trying to tell you because then you can find a solution that satisfies the problem.
Romeo + Juliet, 1996. 20th Century Fox/Alamy
AP: Yes. It’s solving a riddle. And I think that is one of the crazy masochistic reasons why I keep working on another film is that it is that riddle, that creative riddle, between practicality and creativity – and how the two shall meet. It can take a lot out of you and also give you a lot of gifts, too, in the end.
CM: This is true. I have been criticised for saying this in the past, but I believe that what separates a designer from an artist is that a designer is problem solving. A design is about a situation that you’re presented with: whether it’s a script, a person or wet weather. And a director who’s explaining to you how they want the movie to be, and an actor that has certain views on their character, and your job is to thread the needle between all those people.
AP: Good point. What’s been the biggest challenge you’ve faced in all the films that you’ve worked on? Is there a particular scene?
CM: I think I was really nervous before filming the ‘68 special in Elvis because I saw all the clothes and it just really didn’t come together until I saw everyone in hair and makeup. I just thought, ‘what is this?’ It just felt so discombobulated. But then with hair and makeup it all came together. Hair and make-up is a really unsung department. They really can save you. Good hair and makeup is just invaluable for creating character and mood and bringing everything together. You know, that was pretty terrifying. And it’s what we shot first on Elvis.
The great Gatsby, 2013. Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc./Alamy
AP: You pulled it off. So great.
CM: Thank you. And when you think that was entirely shot in Australia. And it’s so under the skin, you can’t see it. So beautifully done. Yes, it was just that first day shooting the ‘68 special that felt like we had so much to lose. Ultimately, with all the more complex scenes we film, I just always feel so grateful when nothing explodes, no one gets hurt, the clothes stay on everyone, the work is good, everyone’s happy, the props worked… props are always my nemesis. Not so much the set dressing props – I love set dressing – it’s just those props that are handled by actors. It’s so interesting because someone like Leonardo DiCaprio or Hugh Jackman can get the worst prop, the prop that doesn’t work, and you’ll say to them, ‘can you just make this work? I’m so sorry this is a disaster. And I’m just terrible’. And they can, you know, they can basically bring an inanimate object to life. And then there are other people who can’t sign a check. And it doesn’t matter how many pens you bring them, just no pen works. You can have 7,000 pens and I can still hear my name being called over the radio to come to set.
AP: The same with a wardrobe malfunction, too. Some people are just able to handle it. When you’re working with a brilliant performer they know instinctively how to create the illusion. We’re all creating illusions. And Catherine, you are a master of this, your work is extraordinary.
Photographs by MARY ELLEN MARK Words by GISELE SCHMIDT & GARY OLDMAN
Hollywood Authentic’s photography correspondents Gary Oldman and Gisele Schmidt look at the work of an outsider who innovated technique and equipment for on-set photography and whose Elvis and Sophia pictures cemented a personal relationship.
Christmas is my favourite time of the year – not because I relish getting gifts but because I love giving them. I’m a planner. I don’t wait for the last minute to start shopping; it’s a carefully thought-out process and, at times, arranged weeks, even months, ahead of time. My ears always perk up when family and friends mention they like something, or are nostalgic about some memory from their childhood, or have a specific interest/hobby, or that they should have gotten this, that and the other thing. I file it away in the back of my mind and when the opportunity arises, I do my utmost to select that ‘perfect’ gift. Gary nicknamed me ‘The Finder of Rare Things’ – a title I wear very proudly. However, the rarest gift I have ever found is him.
Elvis and Sophia Loren by Bob Willoughby
Our first Christmas many moons ago was filled with many ‘firsts’. It was the first holiday my son, William, would not be with me as it was his father’s ‘turn’; it was the first holiday I would be staying with Gary and spending time with his sons, Gulley and Charlie; and it was just around the time we admitted to each other that we were no longer just dating. In a nutshell, it was a highly emotional time. I was heartbroken that William would not be with us but recognised that this provided me a chance for two of Gary’s boys to get to know me a little better, and for them to begin to understand how much I cared for, appreciated and understood their dad. But how does one do all of that in a gift? I owe it all to the late, great Bob Willoughby.
My mom in her 20s was a knockout. No joke, a cross between Sophia Loren and Ingrid Bergman – don’t believe me? I’ve got pictures to prove it, but I digress. She is a huge Elvis fan; so, naturally I grew up listening to his albums and watching his films. When I was selecting images for a Bob Willoughby exhibition, I instinctively chose his photograph of Elvis Presley and Sophia Loren at the Paramount Commissary in 1958. I never had the opportunity to talk with Bob about his photography as he had passed away in 2009, but his son Christopher would regale me with many a tale: Bob was with Sophia and they were seated having lunch when all of a sudden Sophia jumped to her feet having spotted Elvis walking through. Bob believed they had never met before but somehow in moments, she was sitting on his lap tousling his hair telling him how much she loved his music! The incident was over as quickly as it had transpired, but luckily Bob was there and caught every frame of it. The sequence is quite special but the standout for me is featured here – though Elvis is not looking, we know exactly who he is and the smile on Sophia, that’s unabashed joy. Perfection.
Gary visited the gallery many times and he would always eye this photograph; however, he was always hesitant to get it for himself. As if the joy expressed within the image was something he didn’t deserve or hadn’t yet found. All the photographs he had acquired were rather ‘work related’. Directors directing, actors acting, or a quiet moment on set. This photograph was so much more than that. It was spontaneous, intimate, and the captured act was one for one’s own enjoyment. Sophia loved Elvis and she saw an opportunity to tell him so. And this was mine. I was greeted with that same smile when he unwrapped his gift of these shots, and I am greeted with that same smile every morning when he brings me coffee in bed.
Bob Willoughby was the original ‘outsider’ in the genre of the motion picture still. He was the first photojournalist hired by the major studios to take photographs – a liaison between the filmmakers and the leading magazines of the time. He could be shooting for seven different publications but know exactly what each one needed in terms of editorial content and design layout while capturing what was essential to each film. But it didn’t even stop there; he was an innovator, too. He created the silent blimp for 35mm still cameras – a covering that was placed over the camera to minimise the sound of the shutter, making it less distracting for the actors and avoiding detection by the film sound department. He was the only photographer who used radio-controlled cameras that would give him coverage when it was physically impossible to fit in on set or be present for action shots. And he also devised special brackets that could mount his cameras above the Panavision cinema cameras, providing unprecedented vantage points.
Dorothy Dandridge by Bob WilloughbyShirley MacLaine by Bob Willoughby
Dorothy Dandridge was famously quoted saying, ‘I have always been a rebel, an outsider.’ I believe that’s why Bob and Dorothy had mutual respect on the set of Otto Preminger’s film, Carmen Jones, for which she became the first Black woman to be nominated for a Best Actress Oscar. Bob photographed Dorothy taking a break while seated on an apple box. Dorothy focused likely on some directorial notes being spoken by Preminger; it is understandable how Bob’s lens would rather be turned to her, the real star of the production.
Willoughby studied film at the University of Southern California. His photographs show an understanding of the filmmaking process, the responsibilities of the cast and crew to generate a particular scene, and the dedication it takes to get it all right. Bob’s photograph of Shirley MacLaine on the set of the film Can Can encapsulates these elements of repose and high drama by featuring the actors and directors simultaneously on and off set with the use of a mirror.
When I photograph on set, I do love to snap images in the quiet moments. Finding an actor or crew member when they least expect it or are in preparation for the next scene. The fascination comes from the admiration that they do or understand something beyond my own purview. It’s partly awe and curiosity. Willoughby, of course, was on assignment and had the opportunity to accompany them beyond the limits of set and we are ever grateful for his end results…
Rock Hudson by Bob Willoughby
Rock Hudson was filming A Farewell to Arms in Grado, Northern Italy. Having an opportunity between scenes to return to his portable dressing room to finish a letter, Bob shot the extraordinary image of all the local ladies peering in to get a glimpse of their favourite actor!
Months before filming began on Green Mansions, Audrey Hepburn was given a young fawn so that it would become comfortable around her. Audrey named the fawn Ip and had such fondness for the little creature that, to the chagrin of her dog, Famous, it ended up living with them. Ip followed Audrey everywhere, even shopping in Beverly Hills.
Audrey Hepburn and Ip by Bob Willoughby
Willoughby’s photographs on and off set are extraordinary, but the epitome of his brilliance in taking an image that represents the ‘soul’ of a film is none other than that of Anne Bancroft and Dustin Hoffman on a specially constructed set at Paramount during the filming of The Graduate, 1967. There are many iconic images from the set: Dustin hiding in his room, Katharine Ross and Dustin running from the church at the end of the film… But my favourite piece of trivia is that when Bob came to set and was introduced to the cast, including a young New York actor doing his first film, Bob asked, ‘Dusty?’ Whereupon he was given a strange look. ‘Your mother is Lillian and your father is Harry and you have a brother named Ronald?’ Dustin responded, ‘Ok, ok. How do you know all of this?’ Bob responded, with what I can only imagine was a huge smile, ‘I used to live upstairs in the same house on Orange Drive, I used to babysit you.’ It may be a small world, but life on set is never dull.
Photographs by BOB WILLOUGHBY Words by GISELE SCHMIDT & GARY OLDMAN Photographs courtesy of MPTV Images. Learn more willoughbyphotos.com
Lautner’s bold structure in Palm Springs starred in Diamonds Are Forever (1971) and still shines as an architectural gem. Hollywood Authentic is dazzled by the Elrod House.
If one thinks of an archetypal Bond villain lair, architect John Lautner’s 1968 concrete masterpiece – built among boulders and perched on a hilltop – is probably exactly what comes to mind. It may not have a launch pad for a space ship, sharks in the pool or a secret escape tunnel, but stepping inside the stark rooms with clean lines, desert views for miles and a crescent swimming pool seemingly balanced on a slope, it’s easy to see why it was cast as Willard Whyte’s home in Sean Connery’s 1971 outing as 007.
In Diamonds Are Forever, Bond is on the trail of a precious stones smuggling ring, which leads him to Las Vegas and billionaire Willard Whyte. After being left to die in the desert, the British spy turns up at Whyte’s futuristic house, sauntering up the drive and slipping through the copper gate and the glass door to be confronted by bikini-clad henchwomen, Bambi (Lola Larson) and Thumper (Trina Parks). Their athletic skirmish, which ends with a dunk in that pool, shows off the house in all its glory. Bambi is first seen lounging in a chair in the cathedral-like domed lounge, while Thumper reclines on an in-room rock formation – bringing the outside inside, as was Lautner’s intention. Their cartwheeling, chandelier-swinging assault on the gentleman spy gives viewers a good look at the impressive design.
Elevated above Palm Springs and overlooking the Coachella Valley, the building sits in the Araby Cove neighbourhood and was commissioned by interior designer Arthur Elrod, who furnished the house himself on its completion in 1968. Lautner was the son of parents interested in design (their own home featured in American Architect magazine) and was a former apprentice of Frank Lloyd Wright – who designed the Marin County Civic Centre, which Hollywood Authentic lauded in issue 7. When Lautner launched his own firm, he became a leading light in Californian Modernism, designing striking homes that became famous in their own right. With their unique profiles and flowing spaces, Lautner’s builds were instantly recognisable as his work and ideal for cinematography. The Garcia House on Mulholland Drive seems to float on posts over Hollywood and was famously used in Lethal Weapon 2 as the home Riggs pulls down the canyon with his truck; while George’s covetable mid-century love-nest in A Single Man was the wooden Schaffer House in Glendale. The floating spaceship only reached by funicular in Body Double? Lautner’s famed 1960 Chemosphere in the San Fernando Valley. And his Sheats-Goldstein Residence in the Hollywood Hills has featured in numerous music videos and movies, most notable as the porn king’s house that ‘The Dude’ is abducted to in The Big Lebowski. ‘Quite a pad you got here,’ the Dude notes. Quite so.
The Elrod House is certainly worthy of the descriptor ‘pad’ – Playboy magazine’s November 1971 issue ran an approving feature on it called ‘Pleasure On The Rocks’. Lautner’s vision for The Elrod House was organic architecture – incorporating the landscape in the design; making use of the rock formations around the house by integrating them into walls and pockets between rooms. Fanning the house out from the main-event circular living room, Lautner conceived a 60 foot-diameter circular space under a wheel-like roof of alternating glass and concrete slabs. Floor-to-ceiling windows allowed a 180 degree view, the retractible glass pulling back to allow the line between exterior and interior to blur, the pool to become part of the entertaining area (and in Bambi and Thumper’s case, a place to dive into). A set of steps hugged the outside of the pool to transport residents to other levels of the house.
Radiating for this social hub are five bedrooms, five-and-a-half bathrooms, kitchen and ancillary rooms, two-bed guesthouse, staff quarters and a gym with breath-snatching views across to the mountains of San Jacinto and San Gorgonio. The house’s surroundings encroach in all the spaces: Thumper’s lounging rock pushes up through the sitting-room floor like a mini version of the horizon out of the windows; the master bedroom is akin to sleeping in a cave. And next to the sunken bath, a rocky outcrop starts outside the window and continues through the glass to touch the marble tub. Succulents and cacti grow within and without.
The architect’s interest in reflecting nature in design was born when he helped his father build a cabin on Lake Superior in his home state of Michigan as a 12 year-old. He moved to California to work with Lloyd Wright and was inspired by the SoCal environment, his work irrevocably linked to the image of a palm tree, cactus and bleaching California sun. His pads were so desirable that the ultimate showman, Bob Hope, also commissioned him to create a lair for him in 1969 – an iconic building close to the Elrod House that shares similar lines and ambition. Both venues now feature as part of Palm Springs’ annual Modernism Week – a celebration of mid-century architecture, design and culture. Architectural diamonds truly are forever.
Photographs by KATE MARTIN Words by JANE CROWTHER Learn more about John Lautner at www.johnlautner.org
Photographs by GREG WILLIAMS Interview by GREG WILLIAMS/JANE CROWTHER
Monica Barbaro is looking for resonance in her guitar and career as she goes shopping down Tin Pan Alley with Greg Williams.
It feels inappropriate to be looking at electric guitars,’ Monica Barbaro laughs as she runs her fingers along the contours of an ES-330, ‘given the context of our film’. I’ve brought the San Francisco native to London’s famous Denmark Street (so-called ‘Tin Pan Alley’) for some window shopping during a break in awards-season screenings for A Complete Unknown, James Mangold’s biopic of Bob Dylan, tracing the musician’s transition from 19-year-old folk singer to Fender Stratocaster-playing icon at 24. Dylan’s use of a plugged-in instrument was incendiary to the folk scene in 1965 and his ascent was watched and helped by established acoustic singer-songwriter, Joan Baez. Barbaro plays Joan to Timothée Chalamet’s Bob – and she was not a guitar player when she got the job. Now, she can spot a Martin at twenty paces and carries a fingerpick in her pocket at all times.
It’s mid-December and there’s a chill in the air as we walk the London street famous as the hub of music publishing, where Elton John brought songs to sell, Bowie lived in a van for some time, the Stones recorded at Regent Sound Studios and Dylan visited in the ’60s. As we pause to peer in the windows of a shop selling drum kits, Barbaro recalls that her role on Top Gun: Maverick was the first to require musical training (alongside the G-force flights and aerial combat classes). ‘I was supposed to drum in Top Gun. I was in drumming lessons for two straight weeks. I remember, at one point, I started crying over the drums, because I was learning to fly, I was drumming, I was learning to play pool, working out – it was crazy. And they said, “We’re cutting that.” Thank God. It would have been a very bad idea!’
Her role as the first female pilot in the franchise, Lt. Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace, catapulted the actor to the awards circuit and to greater recognition, and gave Barbaro a heavyweight champion in Tom Cruise – he turns up to support her at the screening later that evening. ‘Tom cares so much about making a great quality film,’ she says when considering what she learned from Cruise. ‘There’s less settling in filmmaking. If you’re going to commit all of your time and your life, and sacrifice relationships for it, you want – at the end of the day – for it to be something you’re really proud of, and not just necessarily making something people fold laundry to. To be a working actor, it’s really satisfying to get to be a part of something where the standard level is high, and you’re working with the best in the industry. I’ve gotten to do that, which is crazy.’
If you’re going to commit all of your time and your life, and sacrifice relationships for it, you want – at the end of the day – for it to be something you’re really proud of
Top Gun: Maverick also got her the audition for Baez, a role that Barbaro always knew would test her musically. ‘I played the ukelele for fun, but I wasn’t a guitarist at all. I’d tried, but then my fingers would hurt, and all the songs I liked were really hard to play. So I kept quitting – which is easy to do when you don’t have any deadlines or anything.’ She had a deadline of five months to perfect a number of Baez’s songs when she landed the part. ‘Then the strikes happened, so I had more time to practise. And that was helpful. I almost lost the job in that time because of scheduling stuff, but I just kept practising. And that’s when I learned to play and sing at the same time. I couldn’t train with any coaches, so I was just playing and singing, and I finally learned how to do both at the same time.’
She still plays now but has the bug to learn more. ‘I’m not super-comfortable strumming because I’m still really shy about it; fingerpicking you can do quietly.’ We walk to Hank’s Guitars, a fixture on Tin Pan Alley housed in a Grade II listed 17th-century building and specialising in vintage guitars where artists such as Keith Richards, The Edge and Noel Gallagher have shopped. An Aladdin’s cave of six-strings, Hank’s is wall-to-wall with guitars; upstairs – acoustics, downstairs – electric. We start upstairs where Barbaro makes a beeline for the Martins, Baez’s signature instrument. A vintage poster for a Baez album is on the wall next to them. ‘The sound of these is so beautiful,’ Barbaro says, taking one down and perching on a leather chair, surrounded by instruments. ‘I feel very lucky that I own one now. I’m not sure if production gave it to me, or if I stole it, but I’m not giving it back!’
She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a fingerpick, beginning to noodle on the strings, playing There but for Fortune. It’s the fingerpick she used throughout filming as Joan. ‘I actually carry it around all the time now because it reminds me that I want to keep playing guitar, and also it feels like this totem of proof that it happened, because it’s so surreal to me that I even got to shoot this movie at all. Putting it on feels like a self-belief thing that’s kind of magical.’ As she strums, she shakes her head and claims she’s rusty. ‘The challenge when you finish something like this is: “Can you keep yourself practising once it’s all said and done?” Because we were training hours and hours a day, and we were filming for hours and hours. Your skill level just sky rockets, and then you wrap, and you need to do other things that don’t require a guitar…’
She switches songs; ‘This is a really pretty one, Girl from the North Country.’ It’s an apt tune given she’s a NoCal girl, born in San Francisco, raised in Mill Valley, now living in LA. From a young age she trained as a dancer; ballet predominantly, while also studying Flamenco, Salsa and West African dance. She didn’t know it at the time but Baez’s son, Gabe Harris, drummed for her classes; she only realised when she began researching Baez. Growing up the daughter of divorced parents – a neurosurgeon Dad and a teacher’s assistant Mum – Barbaro was encouraged to embrace the arts. ‘My dad was the first person in his family to even go to college, and grew up very blue collar, Italian-American. I think for me, he’s definitely the person I saw as the textbook American dream. It’s an “anything is possible” kind of belief structure that was given to me by him. And he encouraged me to stay in the arts, because, for him, that felt like something he couldn’t do. But he worked really hard so that I would have the financial stability to be free enough to take the risk of becoming an artist. So I felt very supported by that. My dad is always like, “You’re not lucky. You’ve worked really hard. You’ve prepared.”’
Part of that preparation was moving to New York to study dance at New York University. ‘Dance taught me how much it takes to learn something, and to learn something to the point of absolute believability that you’ve been doing that thing for your lifetime. Dancers can immediately tell when someone is a dancer or not, even just in the way they walk. So to hold a guitar like a guitar player, it takes years and years of carrying that guitar around, and playing it, and knowing how to wield it in situations. So the challenge when it came to playing Joan was immense.’
Immersing herself in Baez’s work, documentary and memoir, learning to play and sing, Barbaro also collaborated with DoPs on her look, creating bespoke teeth and hair, and – with Hollywood Authentic’s resident columnist and the film’s costumer designer, Arianne Phillips – finding the clothes. Though the cast pre-recorded their tracks for the film, when it came to shooting, the decision was made they would all sing ‘live’ on set. That meant Barbaro singing The House of the Rising Sun in a Greenwich club and re-enacting on-stage pairings with Dylan, most notably at the Newport Folk Festival (re-created in a park in New Jersey) and filming at the Chelsea Hotel.
‘All through my pre-teens, all I wanted to do was move to New York and be a New Yorker. And I got to do that in college. Our dance studio was on 2nd Avenue, between 6th and 7th. When I go back there I do reflect on who I was then, and everything I hoped for, and everything I wanted, and wasn’t sure I could ever accomplish. And things I didn’t expect in this lifetime, like this movie.’ Filming A Complete Unknown on location in NY was a full circle moment for the actor. ‘I remember just acknowledging that I was a working actor, and having that feel monumental, walking on those same streets like, “Wow. Remember when you were so cold and broke and tired all the time, and training in dance, and being sweaty, running from one class to another, and trying to keep your head on straight, and barely doing so?” And then to just be like, “OK, now I’m financially stable, doing what I love. That’s huge to me.”’
Barbaro also talked to Baez on the phone, and told her she’d previously worked with her son. ‘She got a kick out of that! It’s got to be so weird to talk to somebody 50 years your junior who’s going to put on some long hair and play you. But she was really generous with her time. We had a great conversation. Folk is a music of authenticity. It’s not over-polished or adorned. I think they are that way about themselves. But anything that she gave me that wasn’t in her memoirs, I feel protective of, and I’ll keep that to the conversation.’
The authenticity of Baez, Dylan and the folk community is something Barbaro likes and hopes to emulate in her own life. ‘They are just very honest. They’re not holding back. They’re not trying to polish an image. Like today, I was given a couple of outfit options by my stylist, and I was like, “This is Hollywood Authentic. I think I want to wear my own clothes, and have my natural hair.”’ The idea of living fully in the present is something that she also subscribes to after the whirlwind of awards season with Top Gun: Maverick that culminated in the Oscars ceremony. ‘When I was there with Top Gun, I felt so lucky to be there, and just tried to be so present in that moment. I just kept thinking: “Embrace it. See it. Feel it.’ The awards are very helpful to films and their future promotion, and they can change an actor’s life. But one of the coolest things about being in that conversation is getting to have that sense of community in a space that can be quite intimidating professionally. It was just so exciting to be there, and to watch people make speeches and honour their fellow nominees, and really truthfully do so. It’s not fake. That was so cool.’
I would love to do theatre. I’ve always wanted to. I know it from a place of dance, but it’s also the thing that made me want to be an actor
We return downstairs to look at eclectic guitars so Barbaro can ask the staff advice on an entry point instrument. As they talk over the counter, she spots a vintage Martin in the window. It’s 124 years old with a short neck and a £13K price tag. She’s given the guitar and she turns it reverentially in her hands, fingerpicking on it while she’s shown electrics. She’s looking for resonance and coos over a vintage 1966 ES-330, similar to the Casino owned by John Lennon. Despite embodying a folk hero and playing all her songs ‘live’ during filming, Barbaro is still shy about her playing; ‘I want to be able to plug into headphones.’ She swaps the acoustic for the electric, sitting comfortably in the shop talking hollow vs semi-hollow body while she plucks the strings.
She considers what she’d like to take on next – along with transferring her skills to eclectic. ‘I would love to do theatre. I’ve always wanted to. I know it from a place of dance, but it’s also the thing that made me want to be an actor – getting to do A Midsummer Night’s Dream when I was 12. Plus, I’d just love to pivot into a totally different genre and get to learn a new skill-set. I just like the newness of it.’ She’ll film Bart Layton’s Crime 101 in London in the new year alongside Chris Hemsworth, Mark Ruffalo and Halle Berry. It is, she promises, a pivot. But for now, she needs to work her way to a much-needed Christmas break and make some decisions on what’s next in 2025. One of those decisions might be whether to buy the gleaming ES-330. As we part on the street she tells me: ‘I almost walked out of there having dropped £8,000 on a guitar.’ She laughs. ‘I was like, I’ll think about it. I’ll go away and sleep on it. But I’m still in town, so I guess I could go back and get it…’
Photographs by GREG WILLIAMS Interview by GREG WILLIAMS/JANE CROWTHER A Complete Unknown is in cinemas now
Photographs by CHARLIE CLIFT Words by JANE CROWTHER
BAFTA-winning writer/actor Malachi Kirby is boxing clever and manifesting a purposeful career. He tells Hollywood Authentic about cooking up the perfect balance.
At the beginning of 2022, Malachi Kirby made a wish list for his next project and emailed it to his team. ‘I suddenly had this clarity about what I wanted to do next, and why I wanted to do it,’ the 35-year-old tells Hollywood Authentic during a shoot in the days before Christmas as he prepares to cook a festive feast for 12 family members. Though he’s never cooked for more than two people before, he’s as singleminded and assured that his dinner will come together as he was about his career direction when he appraised it three years ago. ‘There were four things that stood out to me,’ he says of the list. ‘I wanted to play a boxer. I wanted to do a period piece. I wanted to play someone who really existed, because I’d done a few roles like My Murder and Roots and Mangrove. There was something about those jobs that got me more excited than anything else – the research that came with it, and the weight of responsibility of telling someone’s story. And I wanted to do it in London, at home.’ Six months later the role of Hezekiah, a 19th-century Jamaican immigrant arriving in a crime-ridden London and discovering a talent for boxing in A Thousand Blows, came across his desk. Written by Peaky Blinders creator Steven Knight, production would film in London. ‘This was the thing I was looking for, and it’s been given to me. Pinch yourself! And it was even more special because the character is Jamaican, and I’ve never got to play someone from Jamaica, which is where my family’s from. So this was a very special choice for me.’
Kirby has been making acting choices since he discovered it as a kid at Battersea Arts Centre, round the corner from his home on the Patmore Estate in South London. His father died when he was six and his mum encouraged him to attend the centre. ‘Acting wasn’t something that ever crossed my mind to do. Battersea Art Centre was a space I was terrified of, but it ended up being the safest space that I ever found outside of home. Because it was a space where people were expressing themselves and being silly. And then you clapped for them afterwards. That was my first experience of acting – understanding each other, and understanding yourself more in a space that wasn’t judgemental. It didn’t make me want to be an actor, it just made me want to come back again, come back to this.’
Over time, that impetus evolved. ‘Acting is still a safe space most of the time. But my experience has changed. I’ve travelled with work. I get to dive into character’s minds, and these different periods of history and time; and learn about the world and learn about humanity. There’s all these other reasons that I love doing it now that I wouldn’t have known to think about before.’ Fame, he says, certainly isn’t the lure, despite a growing reputation and recognition as a BAFTA-winner (for Steve McQueen’s Mangrove) and an artist who’s appeared in Roots, Boiling Point and written, directed and headlined his play Level Up at the Bush Theatre. ‘I can’t get my head around why anybody would want to be famous. It doesn’t make sense to me,’ he says, shaking his head. ‘That’s the sacrifice for me. That’s the part that I don’t want but that I know can come with it. And I’ve had to have a discussion with myself about whether it’s worth it or not, in terms of what you can end up giving up, in terms of your personal life and the way that you want to live. Essentially, for me, this career and this craft is about service. I’ve had to understand that this is not something that is about me. It’s letting go of myself to tell this other person’s story. And then on the other side of that, so much of my career has been about service to other people – whether that’s having a chat with someone who’s an aspiring actor or people who watch the shows and how they’ve responded to it and the conversations that come out. And I think that’s something beautiful about it, it’s what keeps me grounded with it as well, and it makes it more of a humane thing.’ Fortune is also an aspect of his career that he keeps separate from the work. ‘I have a rule: I don’t speak about money until I’ve said “yes” or “no” to a project. That’s a boundary that’s helped to protect me to make sure I’m making the decisions from the right place. Because money can be destructive. I’m human just like everyone else. Instead I just go, “Let me focus on the script, the character. If it’s something I’m interested in from that space, then it’s a yes to that.” And then we can talk about the business side of things.’
Writing was my first-ever passion. I was very much a loner when I was a kid. Even when I was around people, I was very much within my own little bubble. Writing was the space where I first discovered new worlds, and I got excited about the idea of what else is possible out there
Kirby is used to writing his own narrative, having started with novels and poetry as a kid, through to putting on his own play in 2019; he’s now moved into screenplays. ‘Writing was my first-ever passion. I was very much a loner when I was a kid. Even when I was around people, I was very much within my own little bubble. Writing was the space where I first discovered new worlds, and I got excited about the idea of what else is possible out there.’ Acting became an extension of that exploration, and his role as Hezekiah in A Thousand Blows sent him on a true journey as he trained in boxing (‘The first part of it was getting in shape, because there was still a bit of leftover lockdown belly going on!’ he laughs) and researched his character’s origins. Though he’d been to Jamaica due to his family connections, Kirby booked a spontaneous trip, inviting Francis Lovehall, who plays Hezekiah’s best friend Alec, so the two could bond off-screen. When they got there, they discovered their director Tinge Krishnan was also on the island researching the show, involving both actors in that process before returning for filming in London. ‘It was incredible. What was just going to be a holiday, and us soaking up the energy of Jamaica and the rhythm and the culture, turned into a research trip with our director. Both Hezekiah and Alec arrive in London at the start of this show, and we’ve got to do the same thing, which was beautiful.’
The show reunited Kirby with Stephen Graham (playing dangerous East End boxer, Sugar) after the two had appeared in the acclaimed Boiling Point. ‘He made a safe space feel even safer from the get-go. And I was learning so much from him, both as an artist and as a creator behind the scenes, because his production company is also producing this. He was very protective over me, in terms of just guiding me through the conversations that needed to be had to ensure the integrity of these characters, and how to navigate this world. He was everything that I needed that I didn’t know how to ask for.’ He pauses and laughs. ‘And then we got into the ring, it was like: we’re throwing this out of the door – he’s terrifying.’ Graham is both emotionally and physically intimidating in the show. ‘I got the brief to lean up, and not eat anything,’ Kirby says of his period-appropriate physique. ‘He clearly had been given the opposite brief: “Eat all of the pies and all of the chicken, and then go to the gym!”’
A Thousand Blows debuts in early 2025 and Kirby feels that it’s going to be a good year for him. And no, he hasn’t made a wish list this year. ‘I’m going into next year very excited, which is an emotion that I’m not used to feeling. It’s not because I know what’s going to happen. I’m just really hopeful about what will happen. I am excited to delve more into my writing, and into producing, and getting more behind the scenes, and finally getting this work developed and out there.’ For his immediate future though, he’s more concerned with how he keeps all his food hot on Christmas Day and ensuring his portions are right. ‘I have three plates, and there’s 12 people coming,’ he sighs. ‘I’ve told my mum she’s not allowed in the kitchen. She’s coming to enjoy herself and put her feet up, and have some good food that’s hopefully not going to be burnt.’ He pauses for a moment and closes his eyes to think of his mother. When he opens them, he smiles. ‘It’ll be perfectly cooked,’ he says with the same certainty he seems to apply to his work. ‘I’ll be fine.’
Photographs by CHARLIE CLIFT Words by JANE CROWTHER Malachi Kirby stars in A Thousand Blows on Hulu and Disney+ from 21 February Grooming by Nadia Altinbas using @lancome @sisley @patternbeauty
Photographs by GREG WILLIAMS Words by JANE CROWTHER
White Lotus and One Day actor Leo Woodall tells Hollywood Authentic about trusting his gut and getting romantic on Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy.
For someone who admits to initially being resistant to acting, Leo Woodall is doing pretty well. Having made a splash as Jack in season two of The White Lotus and followed that up with One Day, he’s now playing a key figure in Bridget Jones’ life in the latest chapter of the beloved singleton’s adventures – which is where Greg Williams caught up with him on set in July. The London-born actor comes from a family of performers; his dad, Andrew, and step-dad, Alexander Morton, are actors, his mum went to drama school and he’s related to Maxine Elliott, a theatre and silent film star. ‘Having acting in my family was, I think, the catalyst in me going, “I don’t want to do that”,’ he says of his teenage reluctance to join the family business. ‘But they call it “catching the bug”. And at 19, I caught it.’
Woodall didn’t catch it from family, though – he credits the performances of other British actors essaying the sort of flawed, nuanced young men he now excels in playing himself. ‘Peaky Blinders definitely played a part. It was around the time that I would find myself pretending to be Tommy Shelby [played by Cillian Murphy] in the mirror. And earlier on it was Jack O’Connell in Skins. I was fascinated and really excited by it. For the first time, I did a little deep dive into an actor’s history, and where they started, and I looked at where he first began.’
Woodall began at ArtsEd drama school at 19 and it was there that he felt a sense of kinship, that he might be able to master acting. ‘I think the first time I felt like I was stepping into my own was at school, and we were doing A Streetcar Named Desire. I got the first three scenes. The bit up to the big “Stella!” moment. I loved it. I thought, “OK, I could have a lot of fun doing this”.’ After graduation, that fun began with the standard rite of passage for any British actor: a role in an episode of medical drama, Holby City. ‘It was a big deal because it was my first-ever professional acting gig,’ he recalls. ‘I was terrified. I had to bring quite a lot of the acting chops to that show because I had to bring all the “panic” acting!’ That formative gig led to roles on two feature films, Nomad and the Russo Brothers’ Cherry, with Tom Holland. ‘It was very low-pressure. It was just a bunch of young lads being soldiers. It was just a lot of fun, and it was great to see how those big-budget movies work.’
When I got offered the role [in White Lotus], I didn’t know what the scripts looked like. I’d only seen the scenes I’d auditioned with. I had a meeting with Mike, and he gave me a brief on what happens, but not really. And I finally got the scripts, and I read them, and was like, ‘Oh my God, this is going to be so fun’
But it wasn’t film that catapulted him into audience consciousness – it was streaming. ‘I knew The White Lotus was a big show, and based on the reaction to some of the people around me, it kind of informed that even more,’ he says of going into the audition process of the zeitgeist show with creator Mike White in 2021. Woodall was vying to play an Essex boy whose sunny disposition and romantic potential at a hotel in Sicily covered much darker depths. ‘When I got offered the role, I didn’t know what the scripts looked like. I’d only seen the scenes I’d auditioned with. I had a meeting with Mike, and he gave me a brief on what happens, but not really. And I finally got the scripts, and I read them, and was like, “Oh my God, this is going to be so fun”.’ Like Sidney Sweeney before him, on season one, Woodall was the breakout in a cast of big names, and suddenly famous.
‘It was a bit of an adjustment,’ he says of the attention. ‘You get used to people recognising you in the street, and that’s a challenge on its own. But like anything, with a bit of time, you get a bit more used to it, and learn how to navigate it. It just becomes part of the gig.’ The recognition also opened up casting doors and another novelty: choice. ‘It does take a lot of thought and a lot of conversations with the people that help guide your career, and people who are just in your life and want the best for you. You have to be good at listening to people’s opinion, and also just trusting your gut at the same time. I feel like I’m quite good at trusting my gut, and knowing what feels right and what I want to do, and what the benefits are. I know when something feels right, when I’m thinking about it a lot and it stays in my mind. You kind of already start mentally preparing for it, even if you haven’t been given an official offer. I think that’s the thing that draws me towards projects, if I’m ignited by it.’
One Day (which he auditioned for while filming White Lotus) ignited him, playing the feckless Dexter Mayhew in Netflix’s adaptation of David Nichols’ bestseller. So did playing Roxster, a young man who rescues Renée Zellweger’s widowed Bridget from a tree and presents a romantic possibility. ‘When I read the script for Bridget, I saw a lot of myself in Roxster, a kind of happy chap. So it’s not a huge stretch. The real challenge was not to buckle under the pressure of working with someone like Renée, who’s a legend, and also the pressure with a big studio, and how widely marketed it will be, and how many people are going to see it. But it felt like if I was given the opportunity, there’s no way I wouldn’t want to do it. It’s just joyous as well. I like to have a balance of things that are deeply challenging and require real blood, sweat and tears, and then also the projects that are sunny, fun, lovely and make your heart feel warm.’ So will Woodall be the new Colin Firth? After all, he does exit a pond in a white shirt in the film… ‘It was definitely never about who can replace Mark Darcy. No one can really do that.’
I feel like I’m quite good at trusting my gut, and knowing what feels right and what I want to do, and what the benefits are. I know when something feels right, when I’m thinking about it a lot, and it stays in my mind. You kind of already start mentally preparing for it, even if you haven’t been given an official offer
Woodall will next be seen in something that is certainly less cheery – in Nuremberg, he’s one of a list of accomplished actors telling the real life story of psychiatrist Douglas Kelly, who interviewed leading Nazis to determine their fitness for standing trial in 1945. Rami Malek plays Kelly with Woodall portraying the German-Jewish translator who worked alongside him. Russell Crowe, Michael Shannon, Richard E Grant and John Slattery round out the cast. The experience, filmed before Bridget shot last summer in London, was ‘a heaven job’. ‘Working with Russell and Rami was like, “Oh, OK. I have to bring it. I have to be the best version of myself as an actor, and as a bloke.” But, what I’m learning is, you go to work, and these highly decorated actors are also just people. Most of the time, they’re just good people, and they want to do well, and they want you to do well, and you collaborate together and try to make something great.’
When we talk in November, Woodall has just finished filming Tuner, a heist story of a young piano tuner who works with his mentor uncle, played by Dustin Hoffman. He’s now looking for his next project to ignite him. As a young British man, is he thinking about playing 007? He laughs. ‘I think I’m well out of the question for Bond. I’d love to be Bond. But I probably need to earn a few more stripes before that conversation. I love moving through this industry and seeing what comes at me.’ He pauses and considers what he now wants from the business. ‘If I can be lucky enough to stay in this position, and maybe have some choice, that’s really part of the fun. It’s basically just about what feels right, and going back to my gut.’ His gut has served him well so far.
At this time of year, cinema is an embarrassment of riches – the films that could have been contenders on the Oscars run jostle for position with those that made the golden nominee enclosure. In another year, The Fire Inside, a plucky boxing biopic, might have been included in awards conversations – most particularly for Brian Tyree Henry’s multi-dimensional performance as a coach.
Charting the climb of Claressa ‘T-Rex’ Shields, a determined young Black teen from Flint, Michigan, who took herself to the 2012 Olympics and astonished her opponents and the boxing community, The Fire Inside is both a classic sports flick and a story of female emancipation. As written by Barry Jenkins and directed by cinematographer Rachel Morrison (who lensed Creed), it not only tells that underdog story but provides nuance and lived-in detail to Clarissa’s struggle that wasn’t just competitive, but influenced by race, gender, geography and economics.
Amazon MGM Studios
An impoverished girl growing up hungry and caring for her siblings while her single mom parties, Clarissa (played with steely gumption by Ryan Destiny) doesn’t have many options in dilapidated Flint. But she turns up at the boxing gym of Jason (Henry), a guy who teaches the neighbourhood boys to spar when he’s not a telephone engineer. Clarissa’s diligence and Jason’s care forms her into a champ, one who could fight for America at a global level, as well as inspire other hungry overlooked girls.
Jenkins’ screenplay gives space for Clarissa to have agency not only in fighting against older, more experienced opponents but in questioning sports funding (white competitors who wear makeup and cute outfits get sponsorship and endorsements, male athletes get more deals than female) as well as the importance of financial compensation for talent. She can win gold but she needs more than praise to feed her siblings, telling her boyfriend bluntly that ‘money IS recognition’. At the same time, Jenkins expands the roles of those around this champ; her mother is a mess of contradictions, her coach isn’t merely a hardass.
Amazon MGM Studios
Coach Jason, in the hands of Henry, is a warm, kind man who sees the opportunity sport presents to Clarissa and, without fanfare, does everything in his limited power to make it happen for her. That means taking on a fatherly, protective role and also stepping away when he needs to. In another, less crowded, year Henry would surely be planning his tux for Oscar night. As the two go for a second Olympic triumph, we see the cost of fighting for first when it’s not rewarded and the pressure on a teenager when she could be the ‘golden girl’ in every way. And though it ticks the sports movie bingo card (jogging in snowy streets, nailbiting matches, the threat of a fierce competitor), The Fire Inside succeeds in being about so much more – and reflecting audience real-life experience back at them.
Amazon MGM Studios
Words by JANE CROWTHER Pictures courtesy of Amazon MGM Studios The Fire Inside is in cinemas now
When we first meet Iris (Heretic’s Sophie Thatcher) she’s narrating a voiceover telling us about two epiphanies she’s recently had: one when she met her boyfriend Josh (Jack Quaid) during a meet-cute in a supermarket and another… well, that would be telling. Her second moment of truth comes when she and Josh take their robo-car to a luxury lakehouse in upstate New York for a weekend with friends. A tremulous woman with a candy-coloured kitsch wardrobe and cute retro headbands (kinda like a Stepford Wife, wink), Iris only has eyes for Josh. But when the wealthy owner of the lakehouse, Russian possible-mobster Sergey (Rupert Friend, pocketing scenes with a florid accent and mullet), tries to force himself on her, Iris sees red. The people pleasing demeanour gives way to rage, revenge, self-preservation: a new survival mode, if you will. Which is news to Iris, because – in a plot beat unconcealed by posters and trailer – she doesn’t realise that she is in fact a ‘companion’ robot and not a real girl. Now that Iris is off-programme and best laid plans have skittered into chaos, just how much damage can be done when your AI goes rogue?
Warner Bros. PicturesWarner Bros. Pictures
To say more, is to spoil the cheeky twists in a brisk, fun comi-horror about misogyny, tech fear and the salutary lessons of reading the small print. Once past the scene setting and narrative rules (Iris can’t lie, can be factory reset, is controlled by a phone app), Companion gets into its algorithm stride like a gen Z Ex Machina. The former good girl must fight her for her life as the friendship group unravels with the lure of money and Josh tries to control his fembot. That prompts jokes and jabs at incel culture, entitlement and the whining of a young, white man moaning that life is so unfair for him. Quaid treads a nice line between charming/charmless that he previously essayed successfully in Scream, while Thatcher aces the evolution of a naif to ninja. Lukas Gage and Harvey Guillén also bring sweet comic relief as a gay couple with a power imbalance.
Fast and loose – put any pressure on post-screening plot analysis and the wheels come off – Companion is a popcorn treat not designed to live long in the imagination once consumed. It’s not likely to instigate behavioural change, but it will entertain on a night at the flicks. Just turn your phone off…
Warner Bros. Pictures
Words by JANE CROWTHER Pictures courtesy of Warner Bros. Pictures Companionis in cinemas now
