Tom Hardy

by James Haydock

  It would have been difficult for the producers to raise too many objections to any part of Layer Cake once it had been released: the box office figures spoke for themselves. It took over £1 million in its opening weekend and almost £3 million in the first fortnight. It seemed that Vaughn’s worries about not having directed before could be laid to rest: British film audiences liked his style (which was less knockabout than his partner Guy Ritchie’s) and he had made a genuine and stylish gangster movie. Tom’s role in the film had been a relatively small one, but he had been part of a tremendous success story. Thanks to its favourable reception in the UK, when Layer Cake opened in the USA the following year, Sony went all out to promote it. It was a strong, credible piece of work for Tom’s CV.

  Although he’d had some experience of the Hollywood movie-making machine, Tom was all too aware how difficult it could be to secure the roles for which you were put forward. You could be the most gifted actor in the world but if you didn’t have the right look for a part, it would slip through your fingers. Tom is undeniably handsome and oozes sex appeal (if in doubt just refer to the mass of adoring comments posted alongside any photograph of him displayed on the internet). His looks and physique, though, do mark him out for particular kinds of roles such as misfits, villains and rogues – the kinds of parts that he has spent the majority of his career inhabiting. There is one character, however, you probably wouldn’t associate with him too readily, yet who Tom was desperate to play – a character from literary fiction who has become synonymous with one of Tom’s fellow Drama Centre old boys, Colin Firth.

  As Tom tells it, he came tantalisingly close to winning the part of Mr Darcy in the 2005 big screen adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, in which Keira Knightley played Lizzie Bennett. Suited and booted, Tom had duly turned up for the scheduled meeting with Hollywood big cheese Stacey Snider. In spite of his best efforts, she deemed him unsuitable for the role, exclaiming: ‘Babe, every woman in the world has an impression of who Darcy is and you’re just not it.’

  ‘That hurt, that really hurt,’ recalled Tom to the Telegraph. ‘I’d worn a blue shirt and jeans and a blue blazer and been doing my best Hugh Grant impression. But now I was back to playing the wonky skewiff-teeth kid with the bow legs.’

  Poor Tom! Despite being brought up in East Sheen and attending public school, he was too much of a bad boy to be the nation’s favourite literary hero. Although he admits his imperfect teeth may have contributed to his not obtaining the role, to date, he has refused to succumb to the Hollywood norm of getting them fixed. And long may that decision last – he wouldn’t be our Tom without his characteristic, imperfectly charming grill.

  On the other side of the coin, there are also countless productions to which the media attaches actors that they ultimately do not pursue. In 2004, the press was excitedly reporting details of a film in the offing about the death of Rolling Stone Brian Jones. Stephen Woolley was in the director’s chair for the movie and Tom Hardy was one of the names reported to be in talks to play the role of Brian Jones. The film, The Wild and Wycked [sic] World of Brian Jones, had been a decade in development, but by the early part of 2004 was ready to go into production. The Evening Standard stated that Tom was ‘first in line for the part of Jones’ but, as is so often the case – and for whatever reason – as quickly as he had been linked to the movie, he was no longer connected to it. Ultimately, the part went to newcomer Leo Gregory, though established actors such as Paul Bettany and Jonathan Rhys Myers had also been rumoured to be up for the part.

  This particular role was not to be the one for Tom, but he had little to worry about on the work front. There was no shortage of jobs for the actor and, at this period in his life, that was a blessing. His breakdown was still the recent past and he was a recovering addict with a void to fill. In an interview with the Irish Times in 2009, he analysed his post-collapse career and remarked that, subsequent to his rehabilitation, his priority was to fill his time with work – he needed one job after the next to keep pushing himself forward, away from his demons. ‘People say to be careful when you get sober because then you get your feelings back. I was very lucky because I got job after job after job, but I was always working for the next job and I was never really in the moment.’

  Indeed, if you were a fan of television drama in 2006, you might have experienced a feeling of déjà vu as one face in particular kept popping up on your screen again and again. Prepare to meet Tom Hardy, darling of the BBC.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE BOY FROM THE BEEB

  There is little to recommend the early days of January in Britain. The Christmas celebrations are over, the population has reluctantly returned to work and there are plenty of cold days and long nights ahead. In 2006, against this gloomy backdrop, the BBC chose to broadcast a grisly, gory, post-watershed drama called Sweeney Todd. Despite its gruesome nature, the show was well received and engendered a more positive response than much of the channel’s Christmas schedule had.

  The legend of Sweeney Todd has its roots in the early nineteenth century. Though it has been posited that Todd was real, he was in fact the fabrication of Edward Lloyd, a publisher of ‘penny dreadfuls’ – sensational serialised stories, which were churned out cheaply and aimed primarily at the working class. Though published in the 1830s, the story of the murderous barber was set in 1785 and it seems likely that the reason for planting the story in the past was so that the publisher could create hype by maintaining that Todd really existed. Certainly, the familiar elements of this legendary character were there in the original story, published under the title The String of Pearls: it included a barber’s shop, the chair that propelled victims into the cellar and even cannibalistic cook Mrs Lovett, who disposes of Todd’s victims in her practical and nutritious way. Since the story was first published, it has appeared in various forms, including plays and even a silent film. Arguably the most famous interpretation of the story, however, was Stephen Sondheim’s 1979 Broadway musical (itself based on a 1973 play written by Christopher Bond). In 2007, Sondheim’s musical version of the tale transferred to the big screen in a film directed by Tim Burton and starring Johnny Depp in the title role.

  Before Burton and Depp got a chance to air their take on the murderous barber, it was explored in this television production. The main character was to be played by British acting institution Ray Winstone with a supporting cast of Essie Davis as Mrs Lovett, David Warner as Todd’s father and Tom Hardy as Matthew Payne, a Bow Street runner (one of the first kinds of police officers in London). It was, in fact, Winstone’s own production company, Size 9, that was behind the making of the drama, in conjunction with Box TV. The actor had formed the production company in 2001 with Joshua St Johnston and Michael Wiggs, its objective being to develop quality television drama. Prior to Sweeney Todd, it had scored a success with She’s Gone.

  With a screenplay written by St Johnston, and with Gub Neal producing, Sweeney Todd began shooting in August 2005. The murky streets of 18th-century London, however, were recreated not on British soil but in Eastern Europe; cost implications dictated that the filming take place somewhere where it would be cheaper to shoot than Britain. The chosen location was Romania and Winstone, ever the proud Brit, made no secret of his displeasure at having to decamp abroad. ‘It’s ironic, but the state of the British film industry means I can’t afford to make it in England, so the streets of London are being recreated in Romania. It’s stupid. It means that 300 people who would have got jobs on the film and paid their taxes in this country have missed out. It really kills me.’

  The drama focussed on the damaging effect that Todd’s past has on him, his disengagement from the world around him and his role as a moral avenger. Gub Neal likened their Todd to ‘a kind of 18th-century Taxi Driver. He is a man who, to some extent, feels abused by society, then rises to respectability and security, but is sickened by the violence of the world and starts to take his revenge on it,’ he said to the Sunday Times when the programme was first broa
dcast.

  The character Neal describes sounds remarkably similar to some of the complex and disturbed ones Tom would inhabit for the screen a few years hence. In this production, however, his job was to play an upstanding and brave law enforcement officer, a small beacon of integrity amid the gloom and misdeeds of the rest of the drama. But Tom was quick to observe that being a policeman in 18th century London would have required a certain kind of mettle from a man. ‘The police force was new and methods were rough and ready – a good beating was often meted out to wrongdoers. I see him as a scrapper, a guy who likes a good fight but equally has a burning zeal to do right.’ Once again, Tom was completely committing to the role by trying to find the essence of his character and establish where contradictions might exist to give his performance the depth he always sought.

  Matthew Payne is introduced to the story when Todd operates on him to remove a bullet from his shoulder – a sickeningly painful, anaesthetic-free procedure in those days. The debt of gratitude Payne feels to Todd for saving his life ultimately clouds his judgement as to what Todd could be – and is – capable of. When he does finally confront the barber about some of the discrepancies in his stories about folk who have mysteriously disappeared after coming to his shop, he is shocked to discover that the man who enabled him to live is responsible for ending the lives of others.

  It was exciting for Tom to be appearing alongside Ray Winstone and he appreciated that it would benefit his own work to observe an actor of Winstone’s calibre in action. ‘It doesn’t get any better than Ray Winstone,’ he enthused. ‘He’s one of the most generous actors in the business and brilliant to watch in action – even when he’s scary.’

  Scary he certainly was when it came to Sweeney Todd, though his character was fortunately no pantomime villain. David Bradley, who played Sweeney Todd’s father in the drama, described the production as a ‘graphic and violent take on the story’ which, though stomach-churning, went down well with television critics who liked its unflinching storytelling. Winstone’s complex presentation of the main character was also appreciated. ‘Winstone is in his element here and gives it far more than the usual two-dimensional cartoon characterisation often seen with the role,’ commented the Mirror. The members of the supporting cast were also praised for their contribution to the re-telling of one of London’s most macabre mythological creations.

  Leaving behind the tricorne hats and powdered wigs of the 18th century (though not forever), Tom took a step further back in the nation’s history to 16th century Elizabethan England. His next turn as the BBC’s character actor of choice was playing Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, confidant of Queen Elizabeth I, in their £9 million drama, The Virgin Queen. Originally, the BBC had intended to broadcast the drama in September 2005, but this would have meant airing it at the same time as Channel 4’s Elizabeth I starring Helen Mirren – so the decision was made to delay it until January 2006. The programme was a four-parter and, because it was broadcast just one month after Sweeney Todd, helped to establish Tom’s presence as a burgeoning small-screen actor. The part of Dudley suited his looks and demeanour down to the ground and gave him a chance to shine in a more substantial role. Tom’s fellow Drama Centre alumna Anne-Marie Duff was to be Elizabeth to his Dudley. Duff had already received critical acclaim for her stage work and, more recently, had been brought to television viewers’ attention for her portrayal of Fiona in Channel 4’s Shameless. Alongside them in the drama was a host of fine British acting talent including Dexter Fletcher, Ian Hart, Emilia Fox and Robert Pugh.

  The narrative spans Elizabeth’s life from the point at which she was incarcerated by her sister Mary I, through to her old age and finally her death in 1603. As the title suggests, the series uses as its premise the theory that Elizabeth died a virgin, dedicating her life to the ruling of her country. At the heart of The Virgin Queen, though, lies the ambivalent relationship between Elizabeth and her trusted childhood friend, Dudley. Events as portrayed in The Virgin Queen show Elizabeth clearly in love with Dudley and, when the story first picks up, she is piqued that he has married (as Dudley would have it) according to his father’s wishes. As the drama progresses, there are sexually charged scenes between them but their relationship is never consummated. Elizabeth desires Dudley and longs to be close to him but is constantly turning away from her more innate impulses. This version of events posits that her reluctance to be intimate with Dudley (or any other man for that matter) is rooted in the psychological effect of the death of her mother, Anne Boleyn, at the hands of her father, Henry VIII.

  Prior dramas about Gloriana had chosen to build themselves around the contradictory viewpoint, that the virgin queen persona was purely a political tool. In both Channel 4’s drama starring Helen Mirren and the film Elizabeth starring Cate Blanchett, Dudley and Elizabeth were depicted as lovers but The Virgin Queen chose to stick with the more literal interpretation of her moniker. ‘We are convinced on the basis of the available historical evidence that she died a virgin,’ producer Paul Rutman told the Sunday Telegraph. ‘We portray her as a passionate woman, but a woman who knew there was a line she could not cross.’

  Unlike Sweeney Todd, this BBC drama was shot on home soil. Although it would have been more economical to move the production to Eastern Europe, it was felt the authenticity of the period piece would be compromised if not filmed in England’s green and pleasant land. Many interior scenes were filmed at a specially constructed set at Shepperton studios and the exterior scenes were filmed at a variety of historic locations including Baddesley Clinton in Warwickshire (Robert Dudley’s home), Chillingham Castle in the north east of England (used as Fotheringay, where Mary Queen of Scots was held prisoner), New College Oxford (used as Whitehall Cloisters) and Alnwick Castle in Northumberland, which has starred in many films including the Harry Potter series.

  Each of the four parts of the series was a self-contained story, and director Coky Giedroyc had a clear idea of the look and feel she wanted to achieve for each segment of the Queen’s life. Part one covers the period before Elizabeth accedes the throne, including her imprisonment at the hands of Mary. To reflect the bleakness of this part of Elizabeth’s life a cool colour palette and plain, pared-down costumes were employed. The second part of the drama tells the story of the early years of Elizabeth’s reign and her passionate relationship with Dudley is heightened by the use of warm reds and golds in the costumes and lighting. The idea behind part three was to create a thriller including the Babington plot, the execution of Mary Queen of Scots and the arrival of the Spanish Armada; the mood for this period is set using earthy tones of brown and green. The final part covers Elizabeth’s later years, her relationship with the Earl of Essex (suggested by this interpretation to be the son of Dudley, not simply his stepson) and her death, so the hues are soft and faded.

  Thanks to the drama focussing on the human angle of Elizabeth I, much attention is paid to her relationship with Dudley, which at times consumed her and always confounded her. When Dudley’s first wife dies in dubious circumstances, the finger of suspicion is, possibly unfairly, pointed at Dudley and even Elizabeth herself. Because of the scandal surrounding the events, Elizabeth is unable to accept Dudley’s proposal of marriage but she keeps him close to her at court.

  Of course, the most crucial casting decision for the makers of The Virgin Queen was whom to cast as Elizabeth. Around 70 actresses auditioned for the part but it was Anne-Marie Duff who made an immediate impression on the casting directors and towards whom they were instinctively drawn. Their intuitions were justified. The role was challenging, to say the least, as it required portraying Elizabeth from teenager through to her dying breath aged 69. Although costumes, prosthetics and make up (and Duff shaving her hairline!) all played their part in the gradual transformation, it was the actress’s extraordinary talent that really made the movement through time believable. As Baz Bamigboye stated in the Daily Mail: ‘With an actress of Anne-Marie’s stature, you’re not getting an impersonation.
Rather, it’s a rigorously grounded performance, with razor-sharp insight into what made this sharpest of monarchs tick.’

  Playing Dudley at last allowed Tom to dazzle with his roguish charm and it is testament to the skill of the two actors that there is a tangible chemistry between them – in fact, it is at times heartbreaking to watch the ebb and flow of their emotional turmoil. Needless to say, Tom undertook his role with maximum dedication. He has paid tribute to the research that went into the production and the strength of the script – the quality of both made his job easier, leaving him to get on with developing his character. ‘My job is to look at how I can create dramatic licence and create a character from what I’ve been given and keep it historically accurate,’ he commented during the filming of The Virgin Queen.

  Indeed, Tom admitted that his research for the part hadn’t exactly been exhaustive. ‘I dug holes around the neighbourhood of the time,’ he told the Sunday Times in 2006. ‘The areas that interested me were more around that period than specifically Dudley’s family tree. He’s a fairly stock character in the thing. If it had been Robert Dudley: Inside the Mind of a Serial Killer, that would have been a different type of research.’

  Joking aside, it was simply not Tom’s way to turn in anything other than a pitch-perfect, refined performance. Stock character Dudley may have been – and a far cry from the tortured, disturbed characters that Tom had inhabited for the stage – but, as always, the actor looked for the subtleties in the part he was playing. His skill at doing this was something that the writer of The Virgin Queen, Paula Milne, was all too aware of, and it was one of the reasons why she picked Tom for the role. ‘I was tenacious about holding on to Dudley’s ambivalence, and Tom really did get that. Often an actor will need to know the neat solution to a character, is he good or is he bad? But Tom was happy to take on that moral ambivalence.’