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Iran accused of ‘Zionist’ tactics

Protestors in Brussels hold posters of those they claim have been arrested and held in Iran for anti-government activities during a demonstration.

One of the defeated moderate candidates in Iran’s presidential election, Mehdi Karroubi, has accused security forces of using harsher methods than Israel.

"The behaviour of Iran’s security agents is worse than those of the Zionist in occupied Palestine," a statement on his website said.

Hundreds have been arrested following protests against President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad’s re-election last month.

Activists around the world demonstrated against the crackdown on Saturday.

Mr Karroubi and other moderate candidates say the 12 June election was marred by massive fraud.

Iran’s top election body, the Council of Guardians, has said the poll was free and fair. Officials results gave Mr Ahmadinejad more than 62% of the vote.

‘In the gutter’

Days of streets protests against the election results were violently suppressed, drawing international condemnation.

A letter to Intelligence Minister Gholamhossein Mohseni-Ejei posted on Mr Karroubi’s website says that "women were attacked with clubs and beaten and thrown in the gutters" during the protests.

"This is more painful in comparison to crimes committed by the Zionists against the oppressed people of Palestine… The Zionist aggressors have some reservations when it comes to confronting women."

Meanwhile activists have taken part in a "global day of action" on Iran.

Protests supported by leading groups such as Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International were held in many cities – including Sydney, Seoul, Geneva London, Brussels, Berlin, Dublin.

The demonstrators urged the Tehran authorities to free those arrested. Many held pictures of people they say remain in jail.

Some placards showed Neda Agha Soltan, the 27-year-old woman whose death was captured on a video that was posted on the Internet.

In Amsterdam, Iranian Nobel Peace prize laureate Shirin Ebadi called on the international community to reject the outcome of the election.

In Bishkek, the capital of the central Asian republic of Kyrgyzstan, nine human rights activists marching towards the Iranian embassy were detained and fined for illegally protesting.

Two days ago Kyrgyz President Kurmanbek Bakiyev won a second presidential term in an election criticised by foreign monitors.</p


This article is from the BBC News website. © British Broadcasting Corporation, The BBC is not responsible for the content of external internet sites.

Irish Catholics want accountability

Continued revelations of abuse by priests in Ireland has left many Catholics in despair at the slow pace of reform

A mere two months after the Ryan Commission report on sexual abuse of children in religious run institutions revealed sickening brutality and depravity, the Roman Catholic Church in Ireland is facing yet another report on clerical sexual abuse.

Set up in March 2006, the state-appointed Dublin Archdiocese commission investigated how child sex abuse allegations against a representative sample of 46 priests in Dublin were handled by 19 bishops between 1 January 1975 and 30 April 2004. Although the commission’s report has been delivered to the minister for justice, publication may be delayed because three abuse cases involving priests or former priests are currently before the courts.

The report is expected to be harshly critical of bishops who appeared to focus on protecting the church’s reputation at the expense of children’s safety. Since his appointment, the Archbishop of Dublin, Diarmuid Martin‘s cooperation and openness has been considered to be exemplary, in stark contrast to some bishops. Early this year, the church’s own child protection body revealed that some other dioceses were still not fully following child protection guidelines, despite repeated assurances that they were doing so.

Unlike most of his episcopal colleagues, Archbishop Martin worked in Rome during the period under investigation, but mere absence from Ireland does not explain his stance. Aside from being personally horrified at the scale of abuse, it is likely that he has realised that until every last appalling detail is in the public domain, and until it is clear that there is a new, rigorous and child-centred approach in place, the Irish church cannot hope even to begin to regain any credibility.

The scandals have revealed divisions in the Irish church, once thought of as monolithic. Some religious orders were allegedly upset that Archbishop Martin reported to the Vatican on the Ryan Commission findings without consulting them, and by his suggestion that religious orders should pay more in compensation. Some of Archbishop Martin’s priests also report feeling extremely vulnerable because of a belief that any complaint, no matter how obviously false, will result in the accused priest being asked to “step aside” from ministry, sometimes for years.

The damage to the Catholic church has been incalculable. From the beginning, there has been a heartfelt desire among Catholics to see real leadership and accountability. Many have simply walked away. Even devout Catholics are losing patience with an institution that does not seem capable of sufficient reform. At the same time, there is sympathy for the many priests who have never abused.

Whatever the internal woes of the Catholic church, the most important thing, as one clerical abuse victim, Andrew Madden, has said, is that we do not have children of today telling their stories of clerical abuse in 20 or 30 years time. While the Catholic church will never return to its former position of power in Irish society, if it is to have any credibility as a moral commentator, it will have to demonstrate that there will never be a repeat of the darkest days of the past.

guardian.co.uk © Guardian News & Media Limited 2009 | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds


Ireland braces for church abuse report

Dublin Diocese Commission to name up to 15 priests said to have abused up to 450 children in capital over 35 years

A report into clerical child abuse in Dublin released later today will “shock and horrify” the whole of Ireland, a leading figure in the Catholic church has admitted.

The Dublin Diocese Commission will name up to 15 priests they say were guilty of abusing children in the Irish capital over a 35-year-period.

Up to 450 victims have also been identified by the commission which will present the report to the Irish justice minister Dermot Ahern.

The Irish government now has to decide whether it should publicly name the clergy identified in the report.

“The report will shock and horrify Ireland,” according to Archbishop Diarmuid Martin, who played a key role in setting up the investigation and is seen by the Vatican as someone determined to reform the image of the Catholic church in Ireland.

It will name 15 priests, 11 of whom have been convicted through the Irish courts and four who are already well known.

The report was established in March 2006 and examined child sex abuse allegations against 46 priests and how each case was handled by 19 Dublin bishops between 1975 and 2004.

Part of the report will heavily criticise a so-called power culture among the Dublin bishops who have been accused of not taking the allegations seriously.

Ahern is understood to be preparing to hand over the report to the Republic’s attorney general for legal advice.

The report deals with three men currently facing court cases and in two instances these men have served sentences in connection with child abuse, while a third has pleaded guilty to the latest charges against him. The men are not likely to go on trial until April next year.

In order to avoid prejudicing the cases the attorney general Paul Gallagher may publish the report but give the three men in question pseudonyms.

Of the 19 bishops investigated in the report, seven are deceased.

guardian.co.uk © Guardian News & Media Limited 2009 | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds


Man on the edge

Aidan Gillen made his name playing chancers and scumbags and in his new BBC drama Freefall he portrays a venal City banker

It’s not easy to interview someone who you’ve last seen masturbating. But so it is with Aidan Gillen. As I approach him in the National Film Theatre foyer, I can’t help recalling a scene I’ve just watched. He plays venal City banker Gus in the forthcoming BBC credit-crunch drama Freefall; after clinching some ghastly multi-billion sub-prime deal that ultimately leads to the debt-ridden immiseration of thousands, Gus retreats to the office loos to celebrate in the manner he deems most proper. Never has the cockney rhyming slang “merchant banker” been quite so luridly literalised.

Harold Pinter described Gillen as “dangerous” after seeing him appear in a 2003 Broadway production of The Caretaker. As I walk towards him he wraps and unwraps his legs around each other repeatedly. His whole demeanour is an heroically uncomfortable array of twitches and leers.

“Having talked to a lot of those guys in banking, I realised that high finance is very exciting,” he says as we settle down in the bar. “It probably is terribly exciting to watch these deals fall into place.” But surely not so terribly exciting as your character finds it? “I don’t know. I don’t want to get too wanky about it, but I can totally sympathise with him. There’s pleasure in his life but there’s nobody to share it with. Hence, you know, that scene.”

Gillen is no stranger to, you know, challenging scenes. A decade ago in Queer As Folk, he played Stuart, uttering the infamous lines: “I’m a faggot-ass, fudge-packing, shit-stabbing uphill gardener. I dine at the downstairs restaurant, I dance at the other end of the ballroom. I’m Moses and the parting of the red cheeks . . . And I am not a pervert.” (Gillen, a former Dublin altar boy, recalls watching some sex scenes from Queer As Folk with his mother. “She said: ‘How are they actually doing that?’ And my brother-in-law said: ‘It’s trick photography.’”) His performance was, like the series, widely praised. It was also typical of his astute preference for edgy small-screen dramas in recent years.

Before Queer As Folk came the role of Gypo in Antonia Bird’s Safe. At one point Gypo, a young homeless man, plunges a bottle into his chest in order to get free hospital treatment. More recently, Gillen starred as Baltimore mayor Tommy Carcetti in The Wire, a political reptile who unexpectedly grows a spine and a conscience while in office.

How did Gillen get the role? “They were casting the net wide getting actors who aren’t recognised, so that’s how us lot [he means the British and the Irish – Dominic West and Idris Elba also starred] got into it. It worked. I’d just been in The Caretaker on Broadway, which meant nothing perhaps to TV audiences there, but showed I could do what they wanted. Also many American actors don’t really want to blot their resumés by appearing as scumbags. British actors – and Irish ones too if I’m anything to go by – are less bothered about playing disgusting or even flawed people. They’re often the most interesting roles, after all, but in the US they can be career death.”

Gillen’s resumé, then, might not make much sense to an American actor: it teems with reptiles, chancers and scumbags (he was particularly effective as Mick, the swaggering, volatile pipe dreamer in The Caretaker, and as the slimy real-estate agent Richard Roma in a West End production of David Mamet’s Glengarry Glen Ross). But he is proud of it. “There’s a common thread through Antonia Bird, Queer As Folk and The Wire,” he says. “I have been in control of what I’ve been doing, of the career I’ve put together.” I’m not sure how that control includes, say, his turn in the Jackie Chan-Owen Wilson buddy-chop-socky sequel Shanghai Knights, but let’s not spoil the story.

“I’ve made a point of trying not to play the same part, and of moving between theatre and film and TV. The idea is that by the time you come back you have been away for a year and people have forgotten you. If you like having time off, which I do, that’s a good career strategy. Or at least, it’s my strategy to keep my head together. I keep going back to Ireland to reboot. And then return, showing up as someone else.”

Freefall marks Gillen’s return to British TV drama after too long away. “When I was 19 growing up in Dublin, I wanted to come to London. I’d done a lot of Irish stage work, which was great [in Billy Roche's A Handful of Stars, for instance], but London was a magnet . . . the place where the great TV dramas were made. It was like someone wanting to be in a rock’n'roll band now.”

His fellow Wire star Dominic West has said that the UK lacks quality contemporary drama on TV. He told Radio 4′s Today programme recently: “If you turn on American TV, there’s a huge choice of nothing you want to see and, unfortunately, I think that’s the case here now as well . . . we don’t seem to be able to do contemporary stuff.” Does Gillan agree?

“So-called reality TV, which dominates British channels, is destroying what made it cherishable to me and lots of others in the first place. I loved Alan Clarke, Ken Loach and Alan Bleasdale’s work. In fact the first TV dramas I ever saw were Screen Twos produced by David Thompson, who also produced a lot of Alan Clarke. And now David produces Freefall, so it shows the kind of British TV drama I admired is not quite dead.”

That said, Gillen has now retreated to live in Ireland and works there as much as he can. “I just wanted to get back home. I have always been travelling – New York and London. I want to give my kids a proper home.” He lives with his wife Olivia O’Flanagan in Kerry, and his children Berry and Joe attend a Gaelic-speaking school. “They have been brought up in London but because they have Irish parents they seemed to have an Irish accent – then when they got out to Ireland they sounded like Oliver Twist.”

His latest project is to star in the first Hammer film of the 21st century. Called The Wake Wood, it doesn’t sound like the camp Hammer horror that made films starring Ingrid Pitt and Peter Cushing so diverting 40 years ago. “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s an Irish film written by a guy I know [writer-director David Keating]. It’s the kind of horror film that I like – The Exorcist and The Wicker Man.”

The film tells the story of a couple, Patrick (Gillen) and Louise Daley (Eva Birthistle), whose nine-year-old daughter is killed in a dog attack. To escape their grief, they relocate to a remote rural community. The locals introduce the couple to a secret, pagan ritual that will allow them three more days with Alice before she is returned to the ground for ever. But what will they do when it’s time for Alice to go back? Gillen sensibly won’t divulge.

Why did he take the role? “I like to mix it up and do something completely different.” It was, he says, “literally the smell of the paint” that made him become an actor in the first place: “I was building and painting the sets. I didn’t want to go to college or work in an office or have a nine-to-five job. I knew that quite clearly before I left school.” He is 41 now, and in the intervening years says he “definitely thought about stopping more than twice. I have been doing this since I was very young. If I could wind it back I would have another life – I would like that, but I would also like to have this life too. For me, now, working and children is it. There’s nothing more to life” •

Freefall is on BBC2 tonight at 9pm. The Wake Wood will be released later this year.

guardian.co.uk © Guardian News & Media Limited 2009 | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds


Man on the edge

Aidan Gillen made his name playing chancers and scumbags and in his new BBC drama Freefall he portrays a venal City banker

It’s not easy to interview someone who you’ve last seen masturbating. But so it is with Aidan Gillen. As I approach him in the National Film Theatre foyer, I can’t help recalling a scene I’ve just watched. He plays venal City banker Gus in the forthcoming BBC credit-crunch drama Freefall; after clinching some ghastly multi-billion sub-prime deal that ultimately leads to the debt-ridden immiseration of thousands, Gus retreats to the office loos to celebrate in the manner he deems most proper. Never has the cockney rhyming slang “merchant banker” been quite so luridly literalised.

Harold Pinter described Gillen as “dangerous” after seeing him appear in a 2003 Broadway production of The Caretaker. As I walk towards him he wraps and unwraps his legs around each other repeatedly. His whole demeanour is an heroically uncomfortable array of twitches and leers.

“Having talked to a lot of those guys in banking, I realised that high finance is very exciting,” he says as we settle down in the bar. “It probably is terribly exciting to watch these deals fall into place.” But surely not so terribly exciting as your character finds it? “I don’t know. I don’t want to get too wanky about it, but I can totally sympathise with him. There’s pleasure in his life but there’s nobody to share it with. Hence, you know, that scene.”

Gillen is no stranger to, you know, challenging scenes. A decade ago in Queer As Folk, he played Stuart, uttering the infamous lines: “I’m a faggot-ass, fudge-packing, shit-stabbing uphill gardener. I dine at the downstairs restaurant, I dance at the other end of the ballroom. I’m Moses and the parting of the red cheeks . . . And I am not a pervert.” (Gillen, a former Dublin altar boy, recalls watching some sex scenes from Queer As Folk with his mother. “She said: ‘How are they actually doing that?’ And my brother-in-law said: ‘It’s trick photography.’”) His performance was, like the series, widely praised. It was also typical of his astute preference for edgy small-screen dramas in recent years.

Before Queer As Folk came the role of Gypo in Antonia Bird’s Safe. At one point Gypo, a young homeless man, plunges a bottle into his chest in order to get free hospital treatment. More recently, Gillen starred as Baltimore mayor Tommy Carcetti in The Wire, a political reptile who unexpectedly grows a spine and a conscience while in office.

How did Gillen get the role? “They were casting the net wide getting actors who aren’t recognised, so that’s how us lot [he means the British and the Irish – Dominic West and Idris Elba also starred] got into it. It worked. I’d just been in The Caretaker on Broadway, which meant nothing perhaps to TV audiences there, but showed I could do what they wanted. Also many American actors don’t really want to blot their resumés by appearing as scumbags. British actors – and Irish ones too if I’m anything to go by – are less bothered about playing disgusting or even flawed people. They’re often the most interesting roles, after all, but in the US they can be career death.”

Gillen’s resumé, then, might not make much sense to an American actor: it teems with reptiles, chancers and scumbags (he was particularly effective as Mick, the swaggering, volatile pipe dreamer in The Caretaker, and as the slimy real-estate agent Richard Roma in a West End production of David Mamet’s Glengarry Glen Ross). But he is proud of it. “There’s a common thread through Antonia Bird, Queer As Folk and The Wire,” he says. “I have been in control of what I’ve been doing, of the career I’ve put together.” I’m not sure how that control includes, say, his turn in the Jackie Chan-Owen Wilson buddy-chop-socky sequel Shanghai Knights, but let’s not spoil the story.

“I’ve made a point of trying not to play the same part, and of moving between theatre and film and TV. The idea is that by the time you come back you have been away for a year and people have forgotten you. If you like having time off, which I do, that’s a good career strategy. Or at least, it’s my strategy to keep my head together. I keep going back to Ireland to reboot. And then return, showing up as someone else.”

Freefall marks Gillen’s return to British TV drama after too long away. “When I was 19 growing up in Dublin, I wanted to come to London. I’d done a lot of Irish stage work, which was great [in Billy Roche's A Handful of Stars, for instance], but London was a magnet . . . the place where the great TV dramas were made. It was like someone wanting to be in a rock’n'roll band now.”

His fellow Wire star Dominic West has said that the UK lacks quality contemporary drama on TV. He told Radio 4′s Today programme recently: “If you turn on American TV, there’s a huge choice of nothing you want to see and, unfortunately, I think that’s the case here now as well . . . we don’t seem to be able to do contemporary stuff.” Does Gillan agree?

“So-called reality TV, which dominates British channels, is destroying what made it cherishable to me and lots of others in the first place. I loved Alan Clarke, Ken Loach and Alan Bleasdale’s work. In fact the first TV dramas I ever saw were Screen Twos produced by David Thompson, who also produced a lot of Alan Clarke. And now David produces Freefall, so it shows the kind of British TV drama I admired is not quite dead.”

That said, Gillen has now retreated to live in Ireland and works there as much as he can. “I just wanted to get back home. I have always been travelling – New York and London. I want to give my kids a proper home.” He lives with his wife Olivia O’Flanagan in Kerry, and his children Berry and Joe attend a Gaelic-speaking school. “They have been brought up in London but because they have Irish parents they seemed to have an Irish accent – then when they got out to Ireland they sounded like Oliver Twist.”

His latest project is to star in the first Hammer film of the 21st century. Called The Wake Wood, it doesn’t sound like the camp Hammer horror that made films starring Ingrid Pitt and Peter Cushing so diverting 40 years ago. “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s an Irish film written by a guy I know [writer-director David Keating]. It’s the kind of horror film that I like – The Exorcist and The Wicker Man.”

The film tells the story of a couple, Patrick (Gillen) and Louise Daley (Eva Birthistle), whose nine-year-old daughter is killed in a dog attack. To escape their grief, they relocate to a remote rural community. The locals introduce the couple to a secret, pagan ritual that will allow them three more days with Alice before she is returned to the ground for ever. But what will they do when it’s time for Alice to go back? Gillen sensibly won’t divulge.

Why did he take the role? “I like to mix it up and do something completely different.” It was, he says, “literally the smell of the paint” that made him become an actor in the first place: “I was building and painting the sets. I didn’t want to go to college or work in an office or have a nine-to-five job. I knew that quite clearly before I left school.” He is 41 now, and in the intervening years says he “definitely thought about stopping more than twice. I have been doing this since I was very young. If I could wind it back I would have another life – I would like that, but I would also like to have this life too. For me, now, working and children is it. There’s nothing more to life” •

Freefall is on BBC2 tonight at 9pm. The Wake Wood will be released later this year.

guardian.co.uk © Guardian News & Media Limited 2009 | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds


Man on the edge

Aidan Gillen made his name playing chancers and scumbags and in his new BBC drama Freefall he portrays a venal City banker

It’s not easy to interview someone who you’ve last seen masturbating. But so it is with Aidan Gillen. As I approach him in the National Film Theatre foyer, I can’t help recalling a scene I’ve just watched. He plays venal City banker Gus in the forthcoming BBC credit-crunch drama Freefall; after clinching some ghastly multi-billion sub-prime deal that ultimately leads to the debt-ridden immiseration of thousands, Gus retreats to the office loos to celebrate in the manner he deems most proper. Never has the cockney rhyming slang “merchant banker” been quite so luridly literalised.

Harold Pinter described Gillen as “dangerous” after seeing him appear in a 2003 Broadway production of The Caretaker. As I walk towards him he wraps and unwraps his legs around each other repeatedly. His whole demeanour is an heroically uncomfortable array of twitches and leers.

“Having talked to a lot of those guys in banking, I realised that high finance is very exciting,” he says as we settle down in the bar. “It probably is terribly exciting to watch these deals fall into place.” But surely not so terribly exciting as your character finds it? “I don’t know. I don’t want to get too wanky about it, but I can totally sympathise with him. There’s pleasure in his life but there’s nobody to share it with. Hence, you know, that scene.”

Gillen is no stranger to, you know, challenging scenes. A decade ago in Queer As Folk, he played Stuart, uttering the infamous lines: “I’m a faggot-ass, fudge-packing, shit-stabbing uphill gardener. I dine at the downstairs restaurant, I dance at the other end of the ballroom. I’m Moses and the parting of the red cheeks . . . And I am not a pervert.” (Gillen, a former Dublin altar boy, recalls watching some sex scenes from Queer As Folk with his mother. “She said: ‘How are they actually doing that?’ And my brother-in-law said: ‘It’s trick photography.’”) His performance was, like the series, widely praised. It was also typical of his astute preference for edgy small-screen dramas in recent years.

Before Queer As Folk came the role of Gypo in Antonia Bird’s Safe. At one point Gypo, a young homeless man, plunges a bottle into his chest in order to get free hospital treatment. More recently, Gillen starred as Baltimore mayor Tommy Carcetti in The Wire, a political reptile who unexpectedly grows a spine and a conscience while in office.

How did Gillen get the role? “They were casting the net wide getting actors who aren’t recognised, so that’s how us lot [he means the British and the Irish – Dominic West and Idris Elba also starred] got into it. It worked. I’d just been in The Caretaker on Broadway, which meant nothing perhaps to TV audiences there, but showed I could do what they wanted. Also many American actors don’t really want to blot their resumés by appearing as scumbags. British actors – and Irish ones too if I’m anything to go by – are less bothered about playing disgusting or even flawed people. They’re often the most interesting roles, after all, but in the US they can be career death.”

Gillen’s resumé, then, might not make much sense to an American actor: it teems with reptiles, chancers and scumbags (he was particularly effective as Mick, the swaggering, volatile pipe dreamer in The Caretaker, and as the slimy real-estate agent Richard Roma in a West End production of David Mamet’s Glengarry Glen Ross). But he is proud of it. “There’s a common thread through Antonia Bird, Queer As Folk and The Wire,” he says. “I have been in control of what I’ve been doing, of the career I’ve put together.” I’m not sure how that control includes, say, his turn in the Jackie Chan-Owen Wilson buddy-chop-socky sequel Shanghai Knights, but let’s not spoil the story.

“I’ve made a point of trying not to play the same part, and of moving between theatre and film and TV. The idea is that by the time you come back you have been away for a year and people have forgotten you. If you like having time off, which I do, that’s a good career strategy. Or at least, it’s my strategy to keep my head together. I keep going back to Ireland to reboot. And then return, showing up as someone else.”

Freefall marks Gillen’s return to British TV drama after too long away. “When I was 19 growing up in Dublin, I wanted to come to London. I’d done a lot of Irish stage work, which was great [in Billy Roche's A Handful of Stars, for instance], but London was a magnet . . . the place where the great TV dramas were made. It was like someone wanting to be in a rock’n'roll band now.”

His fellow Wire star Dominic West has said that the UK lacks quality contemporary drama on TV. He told Radio 4′s Today programme recently: “If you turn on American TV, there’s a huge choice of nothing you want to see and, unfortunately, I think that’s the case here now as well . . . we don’t seem to be able to do contemporary stuff.” Does Gillan agree?

“So-called reality TV, which dominates British channels, is destroying what made it cherishable to me and lots of others in the first place. I loved Alan Clarke, Ken Loach and Alan Bleasdale’s work. In fact the first TV dramas I ever saw were Screen Twos produced by David Thompson, who also produced a lot of Alan Clarke. And now David produces Freefall, so it shows the kind of British TV drama I admired is not quite dead.”

That said, Gillen has now retreated to live in Ireland and works there as much as he can. “I just wanted to get back home. I have always been travelling – New York and London. I want to give my kids a proper home.” He lives with his wife Olivia O’Flanagan in Kerry, and his children Berry and Joe attend a Gaelic-speaking school. “They have been brought up in London but because they have Irish parents they seemed to have an Irish accent – then when they got out to Ireland they sounded like Oliver Twist.”

His latest project is to star in the first Hammer film of the 21st century. Called The Wake Wood, it doesn’t sound like the camp Hammer horror that made films starring Ingrid Pitt and Peter Cushing so diverting 40 years ago. “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s an Irish film written by a guy I know [writer-director David Keating]. It’s the kind of horror film that I like – The Exorcist and The Wicker Man.”

The film tells the story of a couple, Patrick (Gillen) and Louise Daley (Eva Birthistle), whose nine-year-old daughter is killed in a dog attack. To escape their grief, they relocate to a remote rural community. The locals introduce the couple to a secret, pagan ritual that will allow them three more days with Alice before she is returned to the ground for ever. But what will they do when it’s time for Alice to go back? Gillen sensibly won’t divulge.

Why did he take the role? “I like to mix it up and do something completely different.” It was, he says, “literally the smell of the paint” that made him become an actor in the first place: “I was building and painting the sets. I didn’t want to go to college or work in an office or have a nine-to-five job. I knew that quite clearly before I left school.” He is 41 now, and in the intervening years says he “definitely thought about stopping more than twice. I have been doing this since I was very young. If I could wind it back I would have another life – I would like that, but I would also like to have this life too. For me, now, working and children is it. There’s nothing more to life” •

Freefall is on BBC2 tonight at 9pm. The Wake Wood will be released later this year.

guardian.co.uk © Guardian News & Media Limited 2009 | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds


Man on the edge

Aidan Gillen made his name playing chancers and scumbags and in his new BBC drama Freefall he portrays a venal City banker

It’s not easy to interview someone who you’ve last seen masturbating. But so it is with Aidan Gillen. As I approach him in the National Film Theatre foyer, I can’t help recalling a scene I’ve just watched. He plays venal City banker Gus in the forthcoming BBC credit-crunch drama Freefall; after clinching some ghastly multi-billion sub-prime deal that ultimately leads to the debt-ridden immiseration of thousands, Gus retreats to the office loos to celebrate in the manner he deems most proper. Never has the cockney rhyming slang “merchant banker” been quite so luridly literalised.

Harold Pinter described Gillen as “dangerous” after seeing him appear in a 2003 Broadway production of The Caretaker. As I walk towards him he wraps and unwraps his legs around each other repeatedly. His whole demeanour is an heroically uncomfortable array of twitches and leers.

“Having talked to a lot of those guys in banking, I realised that high finance is very exciting,” he says as we settle down in the bar. “It probably is terribly exciting to watch these deals fall into place.” But surely not so terribly exciting as your character finds it? “I don’t know. I don’t want to get too wanky about it, but I can totally sympathise with him. There’s pleasure in his life but there’s nobody to share it with. Hence, you know, that scene.”

Gillen is no stranger to, you know, challenging scenes. A decade ago in Queer As Folk, he played Stuart, uttering the infamous lines: “I’m a faggot-ass, fudge-packing, shit-stabbing uphill gardener. I dine at the downstairs restaurant, I dance at the other end of the ballroom. I’m Moses and the parting of the red cheeks . . . And I am not a pervert.” (Gillen, a former Dublin altar boy, recalls watching some sex scenes from Queer As Folk with his mother. “She said: ‘How are they actually doing that?’ And my brother-in-law said: ‘It’s trick photography.’”) His performance was, like the series, widely praised. It was also typical of his astute preference for edgy small-screen dramas in recent years.

Before Queer As Folk came the role of Gypo in Antonia Bird’s Safe. At one point Gypo, a young homeless man, plunges a bottle into his chest in order to get free hospital treatment. More recently, Gillen starred as Baltimore mayor Tommy Carcetti in The Wire, a political reptile who unexpectedly grows a spine and a conscience while in office.

How did Gillen get the role? “They were casting the net wide getting actors who aren’t recognised, so that’s how us lot [he means the British and the Irish – Dominic West and Idris Elba also starred] got into it. It worked. I’d just been in The Caretaker on Broadway, which meant nothing perhaps to TV audiences there, but showed I could do what they wanted. Also many American actors don’t really want to blot their resumés by appearing as scumbags. British actors – and Irish ones too if I’m anything to go by – are less bothered about playing disgusting or even flawed people. They’re often the most interesting roles, after all, but in the US they can be career death.”

Gillen’s resumé, then, might not make much sense to an American actor: it teems with reptiles, chancers and scumbags (he was particularly effective as Mick, the swaggering, volatile pipe dreamer in The Caretaker, and as the slimy real-estate agent Richard Roma in a West End production of David Mamet’s Glengarry Glen Ross). But he is proud of it. “There’s a common thread through Antonia Bird, Queer As Folk and The Wire,” he says. “I have been in control of what I’ve been doing, of the career I’ve put together.” I’m not sure how that control includes, say, his turn in the Jackie Chan-Owen Wilson buddy-chop-socky sequel Shanghai Knights, but let’s not spoil the story.

“I’ve made a point of trying not to play the same part, and of moving between theatre and film and TV. The idea is that by the time you come back you have been away for a year and people have forgotten you. If you like having time off, which I do, that’s a good career strategy. Or at least, it’s my strategy to keep my head together. I keep going back to Ireland to reboot. And then return, showing up as someone else.”

Freefall marks Gillen’s return to British TV drama after too long away. “When I was 19 growing up in Dublin, I wanted to come to London. I’d done a lot of Irish stage work, which was great [in Billy Roche's A Handful of Stars, for instance], but London was a magnet . . . the place where the great TV dramas were made. It was like someone wanting to be in a rock’n'roll band now.”

His fellow Wire star Dominic West has said that the UK lacks quality contemporary drama on TV. He told Radio 4′s Today programme recently: “If you turn on American TV, there’s a huge choice of nothing you want to see and, unfortunately, I think that’s the case here now as well . . . we don’t seem to be able to do contemporary stuff.” Does Gillan agree?

“So-called reality TV, which dominates British channels, is destroying what made it cherishable to me and lots of others in the first place. I loved Alan Clarke, Ken Loach and Alan Bleasdale’s work. In fact the first TV dramas I ever saw were Screen Twos produced by David Thompson, who also produced a lot of Alan Clarke. And now David produces Freefall, so it shows the kind of British TV drama I admired is not quite dead.”

That said, Gillen has now retreated to live in Ireland and works there as much as he can. “I just wanted to get back home. I have always been travelling – New York and London. I want to give my kids a proper home.” He lives with his wife Olivia O’Flanagan in Kerry, and his children Berry and Joe attend a Gaelic-speaking school. “They have been brought up in London but because they have Irish parents they seemed to have an Irish accent – then when they got out to Ireland they sounded like Oliver Twist.”

His latest project is to star in the first Hammer film of the 21st century. Called The Wake Wood, it doesn’t sound like the camp Hammer horror that made films starring Ingrid Pitt and Peter Cushing so diverting 40 years ago. “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s an Irish film written by a guy I know [writer-director David Keating]. It’s the kind of horror film that I like – The Exorcist and The Wicker Man.”

The film tells the story of a couple, Patrick (Gillen) and Louise Daley (Eva Birthistle), whose nine-year-old daughter is killed in a dog attack. To escape their grief, they relocate to a remote rural community. The locals introduce the couple to a secret, pagan ritual that will allow them three more days with Alice before she is returned to the ground for ever. But what will they do when it’s time for Alice to go back? Gillen sensibly won’t divulge.

Why did he take the role? “I like to mix it up and do something completely different.” It was, he says, “literally the smell of the paint” that made him become an actor in the first place: “I was building and painting the sets. I didn’t want to go to college or work in an office or have a nine-to-five job. I knew that quite clearly before I left school.” He is 41 now, and in the intervening years says he “definitely thought about stopping more than twice. I have been doing this since I was very young. If I could wind it back I would have another life – I would like that, but I would also like to have this life too. For me, now, working and children is it. There’s nothing more to life” •

Freefall is on BBC2 tonight at 9pm. The Wake Wood will be released later this year.

guardian.co.uk © Guardian News & Media Limited 2009 | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds


Man on the edge

Aidan Gillen made his name playing chancers and scumbags and in his new BBC drama Freefall he portrays a venal City banker

It’s not easy to interview someone who you’ve last seen masturbating. But so it is with Aidan Gillen. As I approach him in the National Film Theatre foyer, I can’t help recalling a scene I’ve just watched. He plays venal City banker Gus in the forthcoming BBC credit-crunch drama Freefall; after clinching some ghastly multi-billion sub-prime deal that ultimately leads to the debt-ridden immiseration of thousands, Gus retreats to the office loos to celebrate in the manner he deems most proper. Never has the cockney rhyming slang “merchant banker” been quite so luridly literalised.

Harold Pinter described Gillen as “dangerous” after seeing him appear in a 2003 Broadway production of The Caretaker. As I walk towards him he wraps and unwraps his legs around each other repeatedly. His whole demeanour is an heroically uncomfortable array of twitches and leers.

“Having talked to a lot of those guys in banking, I realised that high finance is very exciting,” he says as we settle down in the bar. “It probably is terribly exciting to watch these deals fall into place.” But surely not so terribly exciting as your character finds it? “I don’t know. I don’t want to get too wanky about it, but I can totally sympathise with him. There’s pleasure in his life but there’s nobody to share it with. Hence, you know, that scene.”

Gillen is no stranger to, you know, challenging scenes. A decade ago in Queer As Folk, he played Stuart, uttering the infamous lines: “I’m a faggot-ass, fudge-packing, shit-stabbing uphill gardener. I dine at the downstairs restaurant, I dance at the other end of the ballroom. I’m Moses and the parting of the red cheeks . . . And I am not a pervert.” (Gillen, a former Dublin altar boy, recalls watching some sex scenes from Queer As Folk with his mother. “She said: ‘How are they actually doing that?’ And my brother-in-law said: ‘It’s trick photography.’”) His performance was, like the series, widely praised. It was also typical of his astute preference for edgy small-screen dramas in recent years.

Before Queer As Folk came the role of Gypo in Antonia Bird’s Safe. At one point Gypo, a young homeless man, plunges a bottle into his chest in order to get free hospital treatment. More recently, Gillen starred as Baltimore mayor Tommy Carcetti in The Wire, a political reptile who unexpectedly grows a spine and a conscience while in office.

How did Gillen get the role? “They were casting the net wide getting actors who aren’t recognised, so that’s how us lot [he means the British and the Irish – Dominic West and Idris Elba also starred] got into it. It worked. I’d just been in The Caretaker on Broadway, which meant nothing perhaps to TV audiences there, but showed I could do what they wanted. Also many American actors don’t really want to blot their resumés by appearing as scumbags. British actors – and Irish ones too if I’m anything to go by – are less bothered about playing disgusting or even flawed people. They’re often the most interesting roles, after all, but in the US they can be career death.”

Gillen’s resumé, then, might not make much sense to an American actor: it teems with reptiles, chancers and scumbags (he was particularly effective as Mick, the swaggering, volatile pipe dreamer in The Caretaker, and as the slimy real-estate agent Richard Roma in a West End production of David Mamet’s Glengarry Glen Ross). But he is proud of it. “There’s a common thread through Antonia Bird, Queer As Folk and The Wire,” he says. “I have been in control of what I’ve been doing, of the career I’ve put together.” I’m not sure how that control includes, say, his turn in the Jackie Chan-Owen Wilson buddy-chop-socky sequel Shanghai Knights, but let’s not spoil the story.

“I’ve made a point of trying not to play the same part, and of moving between theatre and film and TV. The idea is that by the time you come back you have been away for a year and people have forgotten you. If you like having time off, which I do, that’s a good career strategy. Or at least, it’s my strategy to keep my head together. I keep going back to Ireland to reboot. And then return, showing up as someone else.”

Freefall marks Gillen’s return to British TV drama after too long away. “When I was 19 growing up in Dublin, I wanted to come to London. I’d done a lot of Irish stage work, which was great [in Billy Roche's A Handful of Stars, for instance], but London was a magnet . . . the place where the great TV dramas were made. It was like someone wanting to be in a rock’n'roll band now.”

His fellow Wire star Dominic West has said that the UK lacks quality contemporary drama on TV. He told Radio 4′s Today programme recently: “If you turn on American TV, there’s a huge choice of nothing you want to see and, unfortunately, I think that’s the case here now as well . . . we don’t seem to be able to do contemporary stuff.” Does Gillan agree?

“So-called reality TV, which dominates British channels, is destroying what made it cherishable to me and lots of others in the first place. I loved Alan Clarke, Ken Loach and Alan Bleasdale’s work. In fact the first TV dramas I ever saw were Screen Twos produced by David Thompson, who also produced a lot of Alan Clarke. And now David produces Freefall, so it shows the kind of British TV drama I admired is not quite dead.”

That said, Gillen has now retreated to live in Ireland and works there as much as he can. “I just wanted to get back home. I have always been travelling – New York and London. I want to give my kids a proper home.” He lives with his wife Olivia O’Flanagan in Kerry, and his children Berry and Joe attend a Gaelic-speaking school. “They have been brought up in London but because they have Irish parents they seemed to have an Irish accent – then when they got out to Ireland they sounded like Oliver Twist.”

His latest project is to star in the first Hammer film of the 21st century. Called The Wake Wood, it doesn’t sound like the camp Hammer horror that made films starring Ingrid Pitt and Peter Cushing so diverting 40 years ago. “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s an Irish film written by a guy I know [writer-director David Keating]. It’s the kind of horror film that I like – The Exorcist and The Wicker Man.”

The film tells the story of a couple, Patrick (Gillen) and Louise Daley (Eva Birthistle), whose nine-year-old daughter is killed in a dog attack. To escape their grief, they relocate to a remote rural community. The locals introduce the couple to a secret, pagan ritual that will allow them three more days with Alice before she is returned to the ground for ever. But what will they do when it’s time for Alice to go back? Gillen sensibly won’t divulge.

Why did he take the role? “I like to mix it up and do something completely different.” It was, he says, “literally the smell of the paint” that made him become an actor in the first place: “I was building and painting the sets. I didn’t want to go to college or work in an office or have a nine-to-five job. I knew that quite clearly before I left school.” He is 41 now, and in the intervening years says he “definitely thought about stopping more than twice. I have been doing this since I was very young. If I could wind it back I would have another life – I would like that, but I would also like to have this life too. For me, now, working and children is it. There’s nothing more to life” •

Freefall is on BBC2 tonight at 9pm. The Wake Wood will be released later this year.

guardian.co.uk © Guardian News & Media Limited 2009 | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds


Man on the edge

Aidan Gillen made his name playing chancers and scumbags and in his new BBC drama Freefall he portrays a venal City banker

It’s not easy to interview someone who you’ve last seen masturbating. But so it is with Aidan Gillen. As I approach him in the National Film Theatre foyer, I can’t help recalling a scene I’ve just watched. He plays venal City banker Gus in the forthcoming BBC credit-crunch drama Freefall; after clinching some ghastly multi-billion sub-prime deal that ultimately leads to the debt-ridden immiseration of thousands, Gus retreats to the office loos to celebrate in the manner he deems most proper. Never has the cockney rhyming slang “merchant banker” been quite so luridly literalised.

Harold Pinter described Gillen as “dangerous” after seeing him appear in a 2003 Broadway production of The Caretaker. As I walk towards him he wraps and unwraps his legs around each other repeatedly. His whole demeanour is an heroically uncomfortable array of twitches and leers.

“Having talked to a lot of those guys in banking, I realised that high finance is very exciting,” he says as we settle down in the bar. “It probably is terribly exciting to watch these deals fall into place.” But surely not so terribly exciting as your character finds it? “I don’t know. I don’t want to get too wanky about it, but I can totally sympathise with him. There’s pleasure in his life but there’s nobody to share it with. Hence, you know, that scene.”

Gillen is no stranger to, you know, challenging scenes. A decade ago in Queer As Folk, he played Stuart, uttering the infamous lines: “I’m a faggot-ass, fudge-packing, shit-stabbing uphill gardener. I dine at the downstairs restaurant, I dance at the other end of the ballroom. I’m Moses and the parting of the red cheeks . . . And I am not a pervert.” (Gillen, a former Dublin altar boy, recalls watching some sex scenes from Queer As Folk with his mother. “She said: ‘How are they actually doing that?’ And my brother-in-law said: ‘It’s trick photography.’”) His performance was, like the series, widely praised. It was also typical of his astute preference for edgy small-screen dramas in recent years.

Before Queer As Folk came the role of Gypo in Antonia Bird’s Safe. At one point Gypo, a young homeless man, plunges a bottle into his chest in order to get free hospital treatment. More recently, Gillen starred as Baltimore mayor Tommy Carcetti in The Wire, a political reptile who unexpectedly grows a spine and a conscience while in office.

How did Gillen get the role? “They were casting the net wide getting actors who aren’t recognised, so that’s how us lot [he means the British and the Irish – Dominic West and Idris Elba also starred] got into it. It worked. I’d just been in The Caretaker on Broadway, which meant nothing perhaps to TV audiences there, but showed I could do what they wanted. Also many American actors don’t really want to blot their resumés by appearing as scumbags. British actors – and Irish ones too if I’m anything to go by – are less bothered about playing disgusting or even flawed people. They’re often the most interesting roles, after all, but in the US they can be career death.”

Gillen’s resumé, then, might not make much sense to an American actor: it teems with reptiles, chancers and scumbags (he was particularly effective as Mick, the swaggering, volatile pipe dreamer in The Caretaker, and as the slimy real-estate agent Richard Roma in a West End production of David Mamet’s Glengarry Glen Ross). But he is proud of it. “There’s a common thread through Antonia Bird, Queer As Folk and The Wire,” he says. “I have been in control of what I’ve been doing, of the career I’ve put together.” I’m not sure how that control includes, say, his turn in the Jackie Chan-Owen Wilson buddy-chop-socky sequel Shanghai Knights, but let’s not spoil the story.

“I’ve made a point of trying not to play the same part, and of moving between theatre and film and TV. The idea is that by the time you come back you have been away for a year and people have forgotten you. If you like having time off, which I do, that’s a good career strategy. Or at least, it’s my strategy to keep my head together. I keep going back to Ireland to reboot. And then return, showing up as someone else.”

Freefall marks Gillen’s return to British TV drama after too long away. “When I was 19 growing up in Dublin, I wanted to come to London. I’d done a lot of Irish stage work, which was great [in Billy Roche's A Handful of Stars, for instance], but London was a magnet . . . the place where the great TV dramas were made. It was like someone wanting to be in a rock’n'roll band now.”

His fellow Wire star Dominic West has said that the UK lacks quality contemporary drama on TV. He told Radio 4′s Today programme recently: “If you turn on American TV, there’s a huge choice of nothing you want to see and, unfortunately, I think that’s the case here now as well . . . we don’t seem to be able to do contemporary stuff.” Does Gillan agree?

“So-called reality TV, which dominates British channels, is destroying what made it cherishable to me and lots of others in the first place. I loved Alan Clarke, Ken Loach and Alan Bleasdale’s work. In fact the first TV dramas I ever saw were Screen Twos produced by David Thompson, who also produced a lot of Alan Clarke. And now David produces Freefall, so it shows the kind of British TV drama I admired is not quite dead.”

That said, Gillen has now retreated to live in Ireland and works there as much as he can. “I just wanted to get back home. I have always been travelling – New York and London. I want to give my kids a proper home.” He lives with his wife Olivia O’Flanagan in Kerry, and his children Berry and Joe attend a Gaelic-speaking school. “They have been brought up in London but because they have Irish parents they seemed to have an Irish accent – then when they got out to Ireland they sounded like Oliver Twist.”

His latest project is to star in the first Hammer film of the 21st century. Called The Wake Wood, it doesn’t sound like the camp Hammer horror that made films starring Ingrid Pitt and Peter Cushing so diverting 40 years ago. “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s an Irish film written by a guy I know [writer-director David Keating]. It’s the kind of horror film that I like – The Exorcist and The Wicker Man.”

The film tells the story of a couple, Patrick (Gillen) and Louise Daley (Eva Birthistle), whose nine-year-old daughter is killed in a dog attack. To escape their grief, they relocate to a remote rural community. The locals introduce the couple to a secret, pagan ritual that will allow them three more days with Alice before she is returned to the ground for ever. But what will they do when it’s time for Alice to go back? Gillen sensibly won’t divulge.

Why did he take the role? “I like to mix it up and do something completely different.” It was, he says, “literally the smell of the paint” that made him become an actor in the first place: “I was building and painting the sets. I didn’t want to go to college or work in an office or have a nine-to-five job. I knew that quite clearly before I left school.” He is 41 now, and in the intervening years says he “definitely thought about stopping more than twice. I have been doing this since I was very young. If I could wind it back I would have another life – I would like that, but I would also like to have this life too. For me, now, working and children is it. There’s nothing more to life” •

Freefall is on BBC2 tonight at 9pm. The Wake Wood will be released later this year.

guardian.co.uk © Guardian News & Media Limited 2009 | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds


Man on the edge

Aidan Gillen made his name playing chancers and scumbags and in his new BBC drama Freefall he portrays a venal City banker

It’s not easy to interview someone who you’ve last seen masturbating. But so it is with Aidan Gillen. As I approach him in the National Film Theatre foyer, I can’t help recalling a scene I’ve just watched. He plays venal City banker Gus in the forthcoming BBC credit-crunch drama Freefall; after clinching some ghastly multi-billion sub-prime deal that ultimately leads to the debt-ridden immiseration of thousands, Gus retreats to the office loos to celebrate in the manner he deems most proper. Never has the cockney rhyming slang “merchant banker” been quite so luridly literalised.

Harold Pinter described Gillen as “dangerous” after seeing him appear in a 2003 Broadway production of The Caretaker. As I walk towards him he wraps and unwraps his legs around each other repeatedly. His whole demeanour is an heroically uncomfortable array of twitches and leers.

“Having talked to a lot of those guys in banking, I realised that high finance is very exciting,” he says as we settle down in the bar. “It probably is terribly exciting to watch these deals fall into place.” But surely not so terribly exciting as your character finds it? “I don’t know. I don’t want to get too wanky about it, but I can totally sympathise with him. There’s pleasure in his life but there’s nobody to share it with. Hence, you know, that scene.”

Gillen is no stranger to, you know, challenging scenes. A decade ago in Queer As Folk, he played Stuart, uttering the infamous lines: “I’m a faggot-ass, fudge-packing, shit-stabbing uphill gardener. I dine at the downstairs restaurant, I dance at the other end of the ballroom. I’m Moses and the parting of the red cheeks . . . And I am not a pervert.” (Gillen, a former Dublin altar boy, recalls watching some sex scenes from Queer As Folk with his mother. “She said: ‘How are they actually doing that?’ And my brother-in-law said: ‘It’s trick photography.’”) His performance was, like the series, widely praised. It was also typical of his astute preference for edgy small-screen dramas in recent years.

Before Queer As Folk came the role of Gypo in Antonia Bird’s Safe. At one point Gypo, a young homeless man, plunges a bottle into his chest in order to get free hospital treatment. More recently, Gillen starred as Baltimore mayor Tommy Carcetti in The Wire, a political reptile who unexpectedly grows a spine and a conscience while in office.

How did Gillen get the role? “They were casting the net wide getting actors who aren’t recognised, so that’s how us lot [he means the British and the Irish – Dominic West and Idris Elba also starred] got into it. It worked. I’d just been in The Caretaker on Broadway, which meant nothing perhaps to TV audiences there, but showed I could do what they wanted. Also many American actors don’t really want to blot their resumés by appearing as scumbags. British actors – and Irish ones too if I’m anything to go by – are less bothered about playing disgusting or even flawed people. They’re often the most interesting roles, after all, but in the US they can be career death.”

Gillen’s resumé, then, might not make much sense to an American actor: it teems with reptiles, chancers and scumbags (he was particularly effective as Mick, the swaggering, volatile pipe dreamer in The Caretaker, and as the slimy real-estate agent Richard Roma in a West End production of David Mamet’s Glengarry Glen Ross). But he is proud of it. “There’s a common thread through Antonia Bird, Queer As Folk and The Wire,” he says. “I have been in control of what I’ve been doing, of the career I’ve put together.” I’m not sure how that control includes, say, his turn in the Jackie Chan-Owen Wilson buddy-chop-socky sequel Shanghai Knights, but let’s not spoil the story.

“I’ve made a point of trying not to play the same part, and of moving between theatre and film and TV. The idea is that by the time you come back you have been away for a year and people have forgotten you. If you like having time off, which I do, that’s a good career strategy. Or at least, it’s my strategy to keep my head together. I keep going back to Ireland to reboot. And then return, showing up as someone else.”

Freefall marks Gillen’s return to British TV drama after too long away. “When I was 19 growing up in Dublin, I wanted to come to London. I’d done a lot of Irish stage work, which was great [in Billy Roche's A Handful of Stars, for instance], but London was a magnet . . . the place where the great TV dramas were made. It was like someone wanting to be in a rock’n'roll band now.”

His fellow Wire star Dominic West has said that the UK lacks quality contemporary drama on TV. He told Radio 4′s Today programme recently: “If you turn on American TV, there’s a huge choice of nothing you want to see and, unfortunately, I think that’s the case here now as well . . . we don’t seem to be able to do contemporary stuff.” Does Gillan agree?

“So-called reality TV, which dominates British channels, is destroying what made it cherishable to me and lots of others in the first place. I loved Alan Clarke, Ken Loach and Alan Bleasdale’s work. In fact the first TV dramas I ever saw were Screen Twos produced by David Thompson, who also produced a lot of Alan Clarke. And now David produces Freefall, so it shows the kind of British TV drama I admired is not quite dead.”

That said, Gillen has now retreated to live in Ireland and works there as much as he can. “I just wanted to get back home. I have always been travelling – New York and London. I want to give my kids a proper home.” He lives with his wife Olivia O’Flanagan in Kerry, and his children Berry and Joe attend a Gaelic-speaking school. “They have been brought up in London but because they have Irish parents they seemed to have an Irish accent – then when they got out to Ireland they sounded like Oliver Twist.”

His latest project is to star in the first Hammer film of the 21st century. Called The Wake Wood, it doesn’t sound like the camp Hammer horror that made films starring Ingrid Pitt and Peter Cushing so diverting 40 years ago. “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s an Irish film written by a guy I know [writer-director David Keating]. It’s the kind of horror film that I like – The Exorcist and The Wicker Man.”

The film tells the story of a couple, Patrick (Gillen) and Louise Daley (Eva Birthistle), whose nine-year-old daughter is killed in a dog attack. To escape their grief, they relocate to a remote rural community. The locals introduce the couple to a secret, pagan ritual that will allow them three more days with Alice before she is returned to the ground for ever. But what will they do when it’s time for Alice to go back? Gillen sensibly won’t divulge.

Why did he take the role? “I like to mix it up and do something completely different.” It was, he says, “literally the smell of the paint” that made him become an actor in the first place: “I was building and painting the sets. I didn’t want to go to college or work in an office or have a nine-to-five job. I knew that quite clearly before I left school.” He is 41 now, and in the intervening years says he “definitely thought about stopping more than twice. I have been doing this since I was very young. If I could wind it back I would have another life – I would like that, but I would also like to have this life too. For me, now, working and children is it. There’s nothing more to life” •

Freefall is on BBC2 tonight at 9pm. The Wake Wood will be released later this year.

guardian.co.uk © Guardian News & Media Limited 2009 | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds


Man on the edge

Aidan Gillen made his name playing chancers and scumbags and in his new BBC drama Freefall he portrays a venal City banker

It’s not easy to interview someone who you’ve last seen masturbating. But so it is with Aidan Gillen. As I approach him in the National Film Theatre foyer, I can’t help recalling a scene I’ve just watched. He plays venal City banker Gus in the forthcoming BBC credit-crunch drama Freefall; after clinching some ghastly multi-billion sub-prime deal that ultimately leads to the debt-ridden immiseration of thousands, Gus retreats to the office loos to celebrate in the manner he deems most proper. Never has the cockney rhyming slang “merchant banker” been quite so luridly literalised.

Harold Pinter described Gillen as “dangerous” after seeing him appear in a 2003 Broadway production of The Caretaker. As I walk towards him he wraps and unwraps his legs around each other repeatedly. His whole demeanour is an heroically uncomfortable array of twitches and leers.

“Having talked to a lot of those guys in banking, I realised that high finance is very exciting,” he says as we settle down in the bar. “It probably is terribly exciting to watch these deals fall into place.” But surely not so terribly exciting as your character finds it? “I don’t know. I don’t want to get too wanky about it, but I can totally sympathise with him. There’s pleasure in his life but there’s nobody to share it with. Hence, you know, that scene.”

Gillen is no stranger to, you know, challenging scenes. A decade ago in Queer As Folk, he played Stuart, uttering the infamous lines: “I’m a faggot-ass, fudge-packing, shit-stabbing uphill gardener. I dine at the downstairs restaurant, I dance at the other end of the ballroom. I’m Moses and the parting of the red cheeks . . . And I am not a pervert.” (Gillen, a former Dublin altar boy, recalls watching some sex scenes from Queer As Folk with his mother. “She said: ‘How are they actually doing that?’ And my brother-in-law said: ‘It’s trick photography.’”) His performance was, like the series, widely praised. It was also typical of his astute preference for edgy small-screen dramas in recent years.

Before Queer As Folk came the role of Gypo in Antonia Bird’s Safe. At one point Gypo, a young homeless man, plunges a bottle into his chest in order to get free hospital treatment. More recently, Gillen starred as Baltimore mayor Tommy Carcetti in The Wire, a political reptile who unexpectedly grows a spine and a conscience while in office.

How did Gillen get the role? “They were casting the net wide getting actors who aren’t recognised, so that’s how us lot [he means the British and the Irish – Dominic West and Idris Elba also starred] got into it. It worked. I’d just been in The Caretaker on Broadway, which meant nothing perhaps to TV audiences there, but showed I could do what they wanted. Also many American actors don’t really want to blot their resumés by appearing as scumbags. British actors – and Irish ones too if I’m anything to go by – are less bothered about playing disgusting or even flawed people. They’re often the most interesting roles, after all, but in the US they can be career death.”

Gillen’s resumé, then, might not make much sense to an American actor: it teems with reptiles, chancers and scumbags (he was particularly effective as Mick, the swaggering, volatile pipe dreamer in The Caretaker, and as the slimy real-estate agent Richard Roma in a West End production of David Mamet’s Glengarry Glen Ross). But he is proud of it. “There’s a common thread through Antonia Bird, Queer As Folk and The Wire,” he says. “I have been in control of what I’ve been doing, of the career I’ve put together.” I’m not sure how that control includes, say, his turn in the Jackie Chan-Owen Wilson buddy-chop-socky sequel Shanghai Knights, but let’s not spoil the story.

“I’ve made a point of trying not to play the same part, and of moving between theatre and film and TV. The idea is that by the time you come back you have been away for a year and people have forgotten you. If you like having time off, which I do, that’s a good career strategy. Or at least, it’s my strategy to keep my head together. I keep going back to Ireland to reboot. And then return, showing up as someone else.”

Freefall marks Gillen’s return to British TV drama after too long away. “When I was 19 growing up in Dublin, I wanted to come to London. I’d done a lot of Irish stage work, which was great [in Billy Roche's A Handful of Stars, for instance], but London was a magnet . . . the place where the great TV dramas were made. It was like someone wanting to be in a rock’n'roll band now.”

His fellow Wire star Dominic West has said that the UK lacks quality contemporary drama on TV. He told Radio 4′s Today programme recently: “If you turn on American TV, there’s a huge choice of nothing you want to see and, unfortunately, I think that’s the case here now as well . . . we don’t seem to be able to do contemporary stuff.” Does Gillan agree?

“So-called reality TV, which dominates British channels, is destroying what made it cherishable to me and lots of others in the first place. I loved Alan Clarke, Ken Loach and Alan Bleasdale’s work. In fact the first TV dramas I ever saw were Screen Twos produced by David Thompson, who also produced a lot of Alan Clarke. And now David produces Freefall, so it shows the kind of British TV drama I admired is not quite dead.”

That said, Gillen has now retreated to live in Ireland and works there as much as he can. “I just wanted to get back home. I have always been travelling – New York and London. I want to give my kids a proper home.” He lives with his wife Olivia O’Flanagan in Kerry, and his children Berry and Joe attend a Gaelic-speaking school. “They have been brought up in London but because they have Irish parents they seemed to have an Irish accent – then when they got out to Ireland they sounded like Oliver Twist.”

His latest project is to star in the first Hammer film of the 21st century. Called The Wake Wood, it doesn’t sound like the camp Hammer horror that made films starring Ingrid Pitt and Peter Cushing so diverting 40 years ago. “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s an Irish film written by a guy I know [writer-director David Keating]. It’s the kind of horror film that I like – The Exorcist and The Wicker Man.”

The film tells the story of a couple, Patrick (Gillen) and Louise Daley (Eva Birthistle), whose nine-year-old daughter is killed in a dog attack. To escape their grief, they relocate to a remote rural community. The locals introduce the couple to a secret, pagan ritual that will allow them three more days with Alice before she is returned to the ground for ever. But what will they do when it’s time for Alice to go back? Gillen sensibly won’t divulge.

Why did he take the role? “I like to mix it up and do something completely different.” It was, he says, “literally the smell of the paint” that made him become an actor in the first place: “I was building and painting the sets. I didn’t want to go to college or work in an office or have a nine-to-five job. I knew that quite clearly before I left school.” He is 41 now, and in the intervening years says he “definitely thought about stopping more than twice. I have been doing this since I was very young. If I could wind it back I would have another life – I would like that, but I would also like to have this life too. For me, now, working and children is it. There’s nothing more to life” •

Freefall is on BBC2 tonight at 9pm. The Wake Wood will be released later this year.

guardian.co.uk © Guardian News & Media Limited 2009 | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds


Man on the edge

Aidan Gillen made his name playing chancers and scumbags and in his new BBC drama Freefall he portrays a venal City banker

It’s not easy to interview someone who you’ve last seen masturbating. But so it is with Aidan Gillen. As I approach him in the National Film Theatre foyer, I can’t help recalling a scene I’ve just watched. He plays venal City banker Gus in the forthcoming BBC credit-crunch drama Freefall; after clinching some ghastly multi-billion sub-prime deal that ultimately leads to the debt-ridden immiseration of thousands, Gus retreats to the office loos to celebrate in the manner he deems most proper. Never has the cockney rhyming slang “merchant banker” been quite so luridly literalised.

Harold Pinter described Gillen as “dangerous” after seeing him appear in a 2003 Broadway production of The Caretaker. As I walk towards him he wraps and unwraps his legs around each other repeatedly. His whole demeanour is an heroically uncomfortable array of twitches and leers.

“Having talked to a lot of those guys in banking, I realised that high finance is very exciting,” he says as we settle down in the bar. “It probably is terribly exciting to watch these deals fall into place.” But surely not so terribly exciting as your character finds it? “I don’t know. I don’t want to get too wanky about it, but I can totally sympathise with him. There’s pleasure in his life but there’s nobody to share it with. Hence, you know, that scene.”

Gillen is no stranger to, you know, challenging scenes. A decade ago in Queer As Folk, he played Stuart, uttering the infamous lines: “I’m a faggot-ass, fudge-packing, shit-stabbing uphill gardener. I dine at the downstairs restaurant, I dance at the other end of the ballroom. I’m Moses and the parting of the red cheeks . . . And I am not a pervert.” (Gillen, a former Dublin altar boy, recalls watching some sex scenes from Queer As Folk with his mother. “She said: ‘How are they actually doing that?’ And my brother-in-law said: ‘It’s trick photography.’”) His performance was, like the series, widely praised. It was also typical of his astute preference for edgy small-screen dramas in recent years.

Before Queer As Folk came the role of Gypo in Antonia Bird’s Safe. At one point Gypo, a young homeless man, plunges a bottle into his chest in order to get free hospital treatment. More recently, Gillen starred as Baltimore mayor Tommy Carcetti in The Wire, a political reptile who unexpectedly grows a spine and a conscience while in office.

How did Gillen get the role? “They were casting the net wide getting actors who aren’t recognised, so that’s how us lot [he means the British and the Irish – Dominic West and Idris Elba also starred] got into it. It worked. I’d just been in The Caretaker on Broadway, which meant nothing perhaps to TV audiences there, but showed I could do what they wanted. Also many American actors don’t really want to blot their resumés by appearing as scumbags. British actors – and Irish ones too if I’m anything to go by – are less bothered about playing disgusting or even flawed people. They’re often the most interesting roles, after all, but in the US they can be career death.”

Gillen’s resumé, then, might not make much sense to an American actor: it teems with reptiles, chancers and scumbags (he was particularly effective as Mick, the swaggering, volatile pipe dreamer in The Caretaker, and as the slimy real-estate agent Richard Roma in a West End production of David Mamet’s Glengarry Glen Ross). But he is proud of it. “There’s a common thread through Antonia Bird, Queer As Folk and The Wire,” he says. “I have been in control of what I’ve been doing, of the career I’ve put together.” I’m not sure how that control includes, say, his turn in the Jackie Chan-Owen Wilson buddy-chop-socky sequel Shanghai Knights, but let’s not spoil the story.

“I’ve made a point of trying not to play the same part, and of moving between theatre and film and TV. The idea is that by the time you come back you have been away for a year and people have forgotten you. If you like having time off, which I do, that’s a good career strategy. Or at least, it’s my strategy to keep my head together. I keep going back to Ireland to reboot. And then return, showing up as someone else.”

Freefall marks Gillen’s return to British TV drama after too long away. “When I was 19 growing up in Dublin, I wanted to come to London. I’d done a lot of Irish stage work, which was great [in Billy Roche's A Handful of Stars, for instance], but London was a magnet . . . the place where the great TV dramas were made. It was like someone wanting to be in a rock’n'roll band now.”

His fellow Wire star Dominic West has said that the UK lacks quality contemporary drama on TV. He told Radio 4′s Today programme recently: “If you turn on American TV, there’s a huge choice of nothing you want to see and, unfortunately, I think that’s the case here now as well . . . we don’t seem to be able to do contemporary stuff.” Does Gillan agree?

“So-called reality TV, which dominates British channels, is destroying what made it cherishable to me and lots of others in the first place. I loved Alan Clarke, Ken Loach and Alan Bleasdale’s work. In fact the first TV dramas I ever saw were Screen Twos produced by David Thompson, who also produced a lot of Alan Clarke. And now David produces Freefall, so it shows the kind of British TV drama I admired is not quite dead.”

That said, Gillen has now retreated to live in Ireland and works there as much as he can. “I just wanted to get back home. I have always been travelling – New York and London. I want to give my kids a proper home.” He lives with his wife Olivia O’Flanagan in Kerry, and his children Berry and Joe attend a Gaelic-speaking school. “They have been brought up in London but because they have Irish parents they seemed to have an Irish accent – then when they got out to Ireland they sounded like Oliver Twist.”

His latest project is to star in the first Hammer film of the 21st century. Called The Wake Wood, it doesn’t sound like the camp Hammer horror that made films starring Ingrid Pitt and Peter Cushing so diverting 40 years ago. “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s an Irish film written by a guy I know [writer-director David Keating]. It’s the kind of horror film that I like – The Exorcist and The Wicker Man.”

The film tells the story of a couple, Patrick (Gillen) and Louise Daley (Eva Birthistle), whose nine-year-old daughter is killed in a dog attack. To escape their grief, they relocate to a remote rural community. The locals introduce the couple to a secret, pagan ritual that will allow them three more days with Alice before she is returned to the ground for ever. But what will they do when it’s time for Alice to go back? Gillen sensibly won’t divulge.

Why did he take the role? “I like to mix it up and do something completely different.” It was, he says, “literally the smell of the paint” that made him become an actor in the first place: “I was building and painting the sets. I didn’t want to go to college or work in an office or have a nine-to-five job. I knew that quite clearly before I left school.” He is 41 now, and in the intervening years says he “definitely thought about stopping more than twice. I have been doing this since I was very young. If I could wind it back I would have another life – I would like that, but I would also like to have this life too. For me, now, working and children is it. There’s nothing more to life” •

Freefall is on BBC2 tonight at 9pm. The Wake Wood will be released later this year.

guardian.co.uk © Guardian News & Media Limited 2009 | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds


Air France box search winds down

Mourners at the funeral of Dr Jane Deasy in Dublin, 10 July

French ships equipped with US listening devices are ending their hunt for the black boxes of an airliner lost over the Atlantic on 1 June, officials say.

They failed to pick up signals the boxes’ "pingers" were meant to emit for 30 days after the Air France jet crashed with the loss of all 228 lives.

Experts believe the cause of the crash may never be known unless the two flight recorders are recovered.

There is still a chance that French submarines may discover the boxes.

See a map of the plane’s route

Brazil ended its operation to recover bodies and wreckage from Flight AF447, which was flying from Rio de Janeiro to Paris, towards the end of last month, after finding the remains of 51 people.

French investigators believe the plane, which disappeared in a storm, broke up on contact with water, not in the air.

They say the plane’s speed sensors appear to have been a factor in the crash but not its cause.

‘Still hope’

Two tugs chartered by the French agency investigating the crash (the Investigation and Analysis Bureau, or BEA) had been searching for the jet’s cockpit voice and flight data recorders with Towed Pinger Locators (TPL) supplied by the US Navy.

US Air Force Col Willie Berges, the Brazil-based commander of US military forces supporting the effort, said one tug had already stopped searching.

"The last ship will be departing the search area today," he told the Associated Press news agency on Friday, adding that he did not know the exact time.

The ships had had "no success – nothing was tracked", Col Berges said.

A French nuclear submarine, the Emeraude, has also been hunting the boxes and robot submarines will join the search later in July, Air France-KLM director Pierre-Henri Gourgeon said in an interview published in France’s Le Figaro newspaper on Thursday.

"All hope is not lost," he said.

Chief BEA investigator Alain Bouillard said last week that a French boat equipped with two small submarines would begin a search along with another submarine and a robot craft "after 14 July", a public holiday in France.

Friday saw the funeral in Dublin of a young Irishwoman who was aboard the jet along with two friends, all three of them doctors.

The body of Dr Jane Deasy was identified this month. Those of her friends, Dr Aisling Butler and Dr Eithne Walls, were never found.

Click here to return

Flight of AF 447


This article is from the BBC News website. © British Broadcasting Corporation, The BBC is not responsible for the content of external internet sites.

High Sierra Additions: Salmon, Slip, AOD, DeVotchKa

ONE OF THE SUMMER’S SWELLEST GATHERINGS SWELLS

Marc Friedman (Slip/Davis) :: HSMF ’08 :: by Scott Galbraith

The 2009 High Sierra Music Festival, taking place Thursday, July 2 – Sunday, July 5, 2009 in Quincy, CA, has announced the following additions to this year’s lineup:

DeVotchKa
Leftover Salmon
Greensky Bluegrass
Delhi 2 Dublin
Orchard Lounge
Assembly of Dust
The Slip
Surprise Me Mr. Davis
These United States
Red Cortez

Big Light
Lubriphonic
Zach Gill (special kids show)
Alice DiMicele & Friends

Paper Bird
Izabella
Bourgeois Gypsies
Raina Rose
Loyd Family Players

These artists join the already announced initial lineup:

John Butler

Umphrey’s McGee

Ani DiFranco

Disco Biscuits

Galactic

The Del McCoury Band

Steve Kimock Crazy Engine feat. Melvin Seals

The Wailers

Tea Leaf Green

Ollabelle

Mike Farris and the Roseland Rhythm Revue

ALO

Vieux Farka Toure

Dr. Dog

Devil Makes Three

The Travelin’ McCourys

The Lee Boys

Cornmeal

Bonerama

Marco Benevento Trio

McTuff feat. Skerik, Joe Doria, Andy Coe & D’Vonne Lewis

Skerik will also appear as an artist-at-large

Joe Craven and Sam Bevan Duo

Joe Craven will also appear as artist-at-large and emcee

Nathan Moore

Fareed Haque and The Flat Earth Ensemble

Pretty Lights

Everest

Dusty Rhodes and the River Band

Pimps of Joytime

J-Boogie and Dubtronic Science

Poor Man’s Whiskey

Living Folklore