Andrew Scott is finding himself tedious. “When you have a certain profile, you are actively encouraged, not just by the press but by anyone who you happen to speak to in the street or at a wedding, to constantly talk about yourself. And it’s boring, you know? It’s really fucking boring.”
Given his top-calibre credentials (two Olivier awards, a Bafta for his menacingly funny performance as Moriarty in Sherlock, and a key role in the latest Bond film), there is of course the distinct possibility that he is actually a raging egomaniac who is hoodwinking me into believing his modest, self-effacing routine. (His masterclass of a Moriarty would certainly have done that, with a devilish twitch of amusement flashing across his almost-black eyes.) But nevertheless, I’m convinced: the nervous sipping of several gallons of water, the hands between his legs, the shoulders- slightly-hunched body language, the deft steering of the conversation on to anything – anything – but himself, and his work. Which is awkward, because it’s what we’re here to talk about, but my goodness it’s a relief. Scott, a slight, impish presence, is bright and fizzing, wickedly funny. Someone should film his impression of someone attempting to reply to their emails on their Apple watch with a teeny-tiny stylus and make him a YouTube star.
Except that he’s already a star, if one you probably don’t know a single thing about. “The kind of actors I admire move through different characters and genres, and that’s the kind of actor I try to be,” says Scott. “If you want that, you have to be circumspect about your private life.”
Before he landed the breakthrough part of Moriarty in 2009, the 39-year-old Dubliner had spent the best part of 15 years quietly carving out a solid reputation on stage and screen. The Olivier awards were for his work at the Royal Court (A Girl in a Car with a Man in 2005 and Cock in 2010) and in between he earned rave reviews for his “touching vulnerability” in Sam Mendes’s 2006 Broadway production of David Hare’s The Vertical Hour opposite Bill Nighy and Julianne Moore. When Nicholas Hytner chose the actors for the National Theatre’s 50th birthday gala in 2013, Scott was one of only a handful of younger actors (also included were Benedict Cumberbatch and Adrian Lester) who took to the stage alongside the likes of Dames Judi Dench and Maggie Smith and Sirs Ian McKellen and Derek Jacobi. It was “one of the most extraordinary, terrifying nights of my life”, he winces.
Despite various solid film and television performances (Foyle’s War, Saving Private Ryan), Scott was an unknown entity on most of the sofas around the country when he spoke his first prime-time line in Sherlock: “Is that a British Army L9A1 in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me?” In many ways, this was the secret to the character’s success – there was an unknown aspect to him, something otherly. Mercurial, witty, menacing, Scott’s Moriarty made him an overnight star.
It also opened a lot of doors. Too many: in the past six months, Scott, who can’t remember the last time he had a holiday, has made five films. “You know when you listen to the radio?” he says, by way of an explanation. “And loads of songs come on that pass you by. And then suddenly one comes on that makes you want to dance? That’s how you choose a job. Only problem is that, for me, the good songs have been coming back-to-back.” These good songs include: Victor Frankenstein, released next month, opposite Daniel Radcliffe and James McAvoy; a remake of Swallows and Amazons filmed in the Lake District; Alice Through the Looking Glass, produced by Tim Burton, and, most fanfare-worthy of all, Spectre, the 24th film in the James Bond franchise.
“I’m sorry, but to be in a James Bond film is just really cool, right?” grins Scott, who plays a member of the British government called Max Denbigh. Beyond that, he can’t say much: all probing questions are met with a mischievous shrug. Rumours strongly suggest that his character is the arch villain of the piece but he won’t tell. “That would spoil the fun, wouldn’t it?” says Scott in his brand of slightly eerie Irish sing-song, with a raise of those menacing eyebrows. “Let’s put it this way. I get to wear great suits and do a lot of really fun, proper James Bondy stuff,” he says.
On paper – and he laughs from his gut when I point this out – it looks a lot like Scott has sold out. “Yeah, any day now I’ll have a massive body and a tiny head!” But the truth is that Bond was his first foray into big-studio acting. “And, do you know what? I actually enjoyed it much more than I thought I would. It was glorious. With a real, proper script and real, proper acting. Sam [Mendes] is such an exciting person to work with. He made it feel as if we were putting on a play, albeit with about 500 people standing around watching us rehearse.”
When Scott’s agent left him a message telling him that Sam Mendes wanted to meet and discuss the possibility of him working on the new Bond film, he called her back “immediately, which is not something that usually happens”. (Scott says he would genuinely describe Daniel Craig as his favourite Bond: “Well, everyone’s got one, haven’t they?”) He doesn’t go along with the idea that a studio film is inevitably a film with no integrity. “I really hate the idea that it’s virtuous to make a film that three people are going to see.”
Being on such a high-octane set was overwhelming at first. “For a couple of days, I was like, ‘Oh Jesus Christ…’” But then he relaxed. “I have some really funny lines, which is absolutely essential for me. My least favourite type of acting is acting that has no humour in it. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that it’s unforgivable.”
The son of an art teacher mother and a father who worked in management helping find employment for young people, Scott says he grew up in a thoughtful, questioning household.
“My parents were very different – Mum was creative, whereas Dad was much more practical – but I have both of them in me. I’m split almost exactly down the middle.” A talented artist, he also regularly attended drama classes and wasn’t afraid to take risks. Despite winning a bursary to art school, he opted instead for a drama course at Trinity College, Dublin, a course he walked out of after six months to go and “learn on the job” at the Abbey Theatre. “I was ferocious back then,” he admits. “I was absolutely sure that I knew best about everything.” By the time he was 22, Scott had left Dublin and headed to London.
“My parents let me be who I wanted to be but I wasn’t always easy to manage,” says Scott, who only spoke publicly about being gay for the first time in 2013. “I was anxious and angry, not totally at ease with myself.” When he came out to them, there was “never a question” that he wasn’t going to be supported, but it wasn’t easy for anyone. “But it’s good to struggle, isn’t it? It’s good to have a bit of fucking struggle because, if there are absolutely no obstacles in life, you don’t have a chance to grow. And listen, nothing that’s great has ever come out of a place of surety – every creative or scientific breakthrough has come through the premise of ‘I don’t know’. I love that. I love that, in order to know something, you have to admit to not knowing.”
On the eve of his 40th birthday, Scott has unclenched his fist. “I finally feel that I maybe know who I am,” he smiles. “There’s a lot I don’t know, and there’s even more that I can’t control, but I’m OK with that. I’m relaxing and enjoying the ride.”
Which isn’t to say that he is – or ever will be – entirely comfortable with the fame that has come his way. Two years after leaving the show, Scott still gets a great deal of Sherlock-based fan mail (“some of it quite dark”) and is occasionally mobbed in the street. “My greatest fear is not to be able to be curious about other people, to not be able to meet a person eye-to-eye, because that can feel very isolating,” he says.
Just recently Scott, who says he feels genuine grief at having abandoned his first love of drawing, has started drawing people on the tube. “People who are just sitting at the other end of the carriage minding their own business. It’s a really nice way of not focusing on the fact that somebody else may be looking at you, plus there’s a generosity in it because I always go up to them at the end of my journey and give them the portrait that I’ve done. Usually, they’re really pleased, and that feels nice.”
When he has the time Scott has also been working with a charity called Ideas Tap, mentoring young actors who are having trouble kickstarting their careers. “There have been nine or 10 of them, and three have just got into Rada, one’s off to the RSC and one is going to the Bristol Old Vic,” Scott says. “I’m so proud of them. It feels great.”
As we near the release of Spectre, Scott is having to gear himself up for another dose of frenzy. “I’m just going to enjoy it,” he says. “I didn’t think that I was nothing when I wasn’t famous and I certainly don’t think that I’m everything now that I am famous. A bit famous,” he corrects himself. “Not really. You know, just sort of… Oh God, listen to me, I sound like such an idiot, yanging on about myself. Can we please just talk about something else?”
Main photograph: styling by Hope Lawrie; Grooming by Victoria Bond at Caren using Aveda and Sisley; jacket and trousers, from a selection, Tom Ford; vest, £10, Topman; loafers, £225, Russell & Bromley; socks, £12, Falke.
Spectre is released in cinemas on 26 October
