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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.

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Real IRA blamed for Belfast riots

Republilcan youths attack police with stones in north Belfast

At least one shot has been fired at police by republicans in north Belfast and there have been other disturbances after Orange Order parades in NI.

At least two police officers have been injured in the city and water cannon have been deployed to disperse rioters.

Sinn Fein’s Gerry Kelly blamed the Real IRA for the trouble in north Belfast.

In Londonderry there were minor disturbances and there has also been trouble in Rasharkin, County Antrim and Armagh.

PSNI Assistant Chief Constable Alistair Finlay said it was disappointing "isolated outbreaks of violence had marred the day for all communities".

"Right across Northern Ireland there were hundreds of parades that passed off peacefully," he said.

"However, it is very disappointing that there were a minority of people, in north Belfast, Derry, Armagh, Rasharkin and other parts of Northern Ireland who showed total disregard for local communities.

"They displayed the worst possible face of Northern Ireland – a face of bigotry, sectarianism and intolerance that is not representative of the vast majority of people who have moved on and embraced a peaceful future."

Petrol bombs fireworks, stones, and bottles were thrown at police officers in Ardoyne.

Police fired up to 14 baton rounds and water cannon was deployed.

A van was also hijacked and pushed at police lines.

Mr Kelly said a "a small number of dissident republicans from outside Ardoyne" had stoked sectarian tensions and orchestrated the trouble.

"These people want to see sectarian violence on the streets of Ardoyne and north Belfast. They want to see conflict between young people and the PSNI.

NORTHERN IRELAND TROUBLE
Ardoyne

  • Shots fired at police
  • 14 baton rounds fired
  • Water cannon deployed
  • Petrol bombs and other missiles thrown
  • Two officers injured
  • Van pushed at police lines
  • Sinn Fein blame Real IRA for trouble
  • Firearm handed to police after children spotted playing with it

Londonderry

  • Minor trouble at return city centre parade
  • Missiles thrown
  • Trouble in Butcher’s Gate
  • One police officer injured

Armagh

  • Device explodes on Friary Road
  • Petrol bombs thrown
  • Two cars stolen and set on fire
  • Four people arrested

Rasharkin

  • Stones, petrol bombs thrown
  • Three police hurt
  • One arrested

Source PSNI

"They are content to see the PSNI firing plastic bullets at young nationalists. I am not. The use of plastic bullets is unacceptable."

Earlier a firearm was handed into police after a group of children were found playing with it.

In Rasharkin, officers sustained minor injuries when they were struck by stones and bricks by youths in the village.

Petrol bombs were also thrown. One man has been arrested.

There were disturbances during the return leg of the Twelfth parade in Derry.

There was minor trouble in the Butcher’s Gate area where one policeman sustained a slight injury.

Earlier, rival groups taunted each other as Orangemen and a small number of bands made their way through the Diamond area.

Both sides spat at each other and threw missiles. Police separated factions.

Officers remained in the area, and were attacked by nationalists throwing stones and bottles.

Police came under attack with missiles and paint during disturbances in Armagh following a security alert at Friary Road in which a minor explosion occurred.

Four people have been arrested for public order offences following a number of minor disturbances.

A small number of petrol bombs were thrown. At least two cars were also stolen and set alight on Friary Road.</p


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

McDonald’s moves HQ to Switzerland

US fast-food chain will relocate to Geneva to take advantage of Swiss intellectual property tax laws

McDonald’s is shifting its European headquarters to Geneva, in a snub to the European Union, to benefit from Switzerland’s advantageous intellectual property tax laws.

The US fast-food chain is joining other foreign companies that have moved their European headquarters to a more favourable tax regime. US corporations that have based themselves in Switzerland include Kraft, Procter & Gamble, Colgate-Palmolive, Yahoo! and Google.

McDonald’s said its new European head office would be opened in Geneva before the end of the year. It will bring together all senior management, who are spread across four regional centres: London, Paris, Munich and Vienna. The company’s European president, Denis Hennequin, who until now has split his time between London and Paris, will be among the executives making the move to Geneva.

The four regional centres will remain open and the UK’s business will continue to be run from London by Steve Easterbrook.

A spokeswoman for McDonald’s said the move “will enable us to conduct the strategic management of key international intellectual property rights, which includes the licensing of those rights to McDonald’s franchisees in Europe, from Switzerland”.

She said the decision was “a long time in the planning” and was first announced internally in August 2008, denying that it was related to new UK tax rules that took effect at the start of the month.

The recent changes to the taxation of foreign profits relate to intellectual property rights such as patents, copyrights and trademarks. They have already prompted the publishing and conference group Informa to relocate its tax domicile out of the UK to Switzerland to escape “double taxation” – once abroad and again in Britain.

Under the new UK tax rules, the earnings companies receive from their overseas subsidiaries relating to “real” economic activity involving trade in goods and services will not be taxed by the UK authorities. But income derived from intellectual property rights does not fall into this category and will be taxed by HM Revenue & Customs, even if it has already been taxed overseas.

Other companies have recently moved from Britain to lower tax regimes such as Ireland, Luxembourg and the Netherlands. The list includes the advertising giant WPP, drugs group Shire, publishing company United Business Media, rented office group Regus, financial groups Henderson, Brit Insurance and Hiscox, and engineering firm Charter.

As part of governments’ efforts to stem corporate tax avoidance, there are moves under way to force multinational companies to reveal how much tax they pay in each jurisdiction they operate in.

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EU governments back Barroso for second term

• Confirmation of president pushed back to September
• Greens led by Cohn-Bendit leading No campaign

The 27 governments of the European Union today threw their full weight behind a second five-year term for José Manuel Barroso as president of the European commission, challenging the new European parliament to rubber-stamp their choice. The parliament meets next week in Strasbourg, but government leaders’ hopes that Barroso would be instantly enthroned have been defeated by a backlash from the centre-left. Fredrik Reinfeldt, the Swedish prime minister who took over the rotating chairmanship of the EU last week, said today that the full endorsement of Barroso by 27 governments should see the former Portuguese prime minister confirmed as soon as possible.

But Reinfeldt has already suffered one defeat in his first week as EU president, seeing the parliament vote pushed back by two months until September.

“The council [of government leaders] has taken its responsibility for completing the selection of a commission president. I hope that we in Europe can move forward as soon as possible to resolve the important issues we have before us, such as the climate and financial crises,” said Reinfeldt.

He fears a leadership vacuum as Europe wrestles with economic meltdown, rising unemployment, and the run-up to the crucial global climate change negotiations in Copenhagen in December.

But the social democrats and the Greens in the European parliament have forced a delay in the vote on Barroso who is strongly supported by Britain, both Labour and Conservative, by the centre-left governments of Portugal and Spain, and by the centre-right across the EU.

Barroso has been lobbying strenuously for a quick reappointment. He has been most worried about the ambivalent support from President Nicolas Sarkozy of France.The Greens in the parliament, led by Danny Cohn-Bendit, are spearheading a No to Barroso campaign, arguing he has displayed feeble leadership. The second biggest caucus, the social democrats, have led the drive to delay the vote in an attempt to extract maximum concessions from Barroso over policies and the shape of his new commission. The social democrats’ leader, Martin Schulz, is believed to be demanding that a quarter of commission portfolios go to social democrats, a tall order that Barroso will struggle to deliver on.

Commission officials admit that Barroso is worried that his second term could fall victim to personnel horsetrading among member states following the Irish vote.

Under the Lisbon treaty the EU is to get its first sitting president and a more powerful foreign policy chief. If the Irish vote yes to Lisbon, as widely expected, the new plum posts will be up for grabs and the head of the commission post could be thrown into the mix, jeopardising Barroso’s chances.

The tussle over Barroso is part of a power struggle between the European council of national governments, traditionally the strongest power in the EU, and the parliament, which is gaining in clout and is seeking to challenge the supremacy of the governments.

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Who wants Ireland’s blasphemy law?

New rules which forbid causing ‘outrage’ among religious people have baffled Ireland. We were getting along just fine without them

I’m not sure which piece of unpopular Irish news is being buried by which: the announcement of a second referendum on the Lisbon treaty, or the shuffling through of a law creating penalties for blasphemy, an offence that has never properly existed in the Irish state.

While there is certainly a store of resentment in the population at being asked to vote again (that is: vote properly, you morons, as the government is barely holding back from saying) on the Lisbon treaty, there is a certain sense of bafflement at the new blasphemy legislation, smuggled in under the guise of defamation law reform. Nobody wanted this law: no one can think of a single thundering priest, austere vicar, irate rabbi or miffed mullah ever calling for tougher penalties for blasphemy. Certainly there were the frequent, and frequently ignored missives from Armagh, warning the Irish not to abandon God for 4x4s and Nintendo Wiis. And there was widespread dismay when popular comic Tommy Tiernan pushed the Bible-baiting a bit too far on the Late Late Show. But never did anyone suggest we needed tough blasphemy laws. Until the justice minister, Dermot Ahern, decided we needed to fill the “void” left by our lack of one.

Technically, Ahern is correct that Bunreacht na hÉireann requires that blasphemy be a criminal offence. However, no one ever bothered to formulate what the exact offence might be, and we muddled on for quite a long time without anyone worrying about this (perhaps, as a friend pointed out to me, because all blasphemous material was grabbed by the all-powerful censors long before it could ever get to court). In 1999, there was an attempt to prosecute a newspaper for a cartoon mocking the church, but the judge in that case noted that he could not prosecute, because there was no definition of what legally constituted blasphemy. Well now there is. And it concerns itself with what might or might not cause “outrage among a substantial number of the adherents of [a] religion” (note, not just Christianity, as was the case with English blasphemy law: this is, at least, equal opportunities idiocy).

As Michael Nugent of Atheist Ireland has pointed out:

The proposed law does not protect religious belief; it incentivises outrage and it criminalises free speech. Under this proposed law, if a person expresses one belief about gods, and other people think that this insults a different belief about gods, then these people can become outraged, and this outrage can make it illegal for the first person to express his or her beliefs.

So Irish law has now enshrined the notion that the taking of offence is more important than free expression. If something might cause a motivated group to be “outraged”, rather than, say, cause them to live in fear, then it is illegal, with a fine of up to €25,000 payable.

Note the ease with which a prosecution could be brought, and the punitive nature of the fine: this is not legislation that simply serves to tie up a few loose ends.

The minister claimed that his only alternative to this legislation was to have a referendum. This again, is technically true: any constitutional changes in Ireland require this. But the minister dismissed the notion of organising a referendum as being too costly in these straitened times.

Yet today, we are told there is to be another Lisbon referendum in October. Wouldn’t it have been sensible to hold both the Lisbon referendum and a referendum on the abolition of the concept of blasphemy from the constitution on the same day, cutting down on costs? Wouldn’t it, minister?

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Who wants Ireland’s blasphemy law?

New rules which forbid causing ‘outrage’ among religious people have baffled Ireland. We were getting along just fine without them

I’m not sure which piece of unpopular Irish news is being buried by which: the announcement of a second referendum on the Lisbon treaty, or the shuffling through of a law creating penalties for blasphemy, an offence that has never properly existed in the Irish state.

While there is certainly a store of resentment in the population at being asked to vote again (that is: vote properly, you morons, as the government is barely holding back from saying) on the Lisbon treaty, there is a certain sense of bafflement at the new blasphemy legislation, smuggled in under the guise of defamation law reform. Nobody wanted this law: no one can think of a single thundering priest, austere vicar, irate rabbi or miffed mullah ever calling for tougher penalties for blasphemy. Certainly there were the frequent, and frequently ignored missives from Armagh, warning the Irish not to abandon God for 4x4s and Nintendo Wiis. And there was widespread dismay when popular comic Tommy Tiernan pushed the Bible-baiting a bit too far on the Late Late Show. But never did anyone suggest we needed tough blasphemy laws. Until the justice minister, Dermot Ahern, decided we needed to fill the “void” left by our lack of one.

Technically, Ahern is correct that Bunreacht na hÉireann requires that blasphemy be a criminal offence. However, no one ever bothered to formulate what the exact offence might be, and we muddled on for quite a long time without anyone worrying about this (perhaps, as a friend pointed out to me, because all blasphemous material was grabbed by the all-powerful censors long before it could ever get to court). In 1999, there was an attempt to prosecute a newspaper for a cartoon mocking the church, but the judge in that case noted that he could not prosecute, because there was no definition of what legally constituted blasphemy. Well now there is. And it concerns itself with what might or might not cause “outrage among a substantial number of the adherents of [a] religion” (note, not just Christianity, as was the case with English blasphemy law: this is, at least, equal opportunities idiocy).

As Michael Nugent of Atheist Ireland has pointed out:

The proposed law does not protect religious belief; it incentivises outrage and it criminalises free speech. Under this proposed law, if a person expresses one belief about gods, and other people think that this insults a different belief about gods, then these people can become outraged, and this outrage can make it illegal for the first person to express his or her beliefs.

So Irish law has now enshrined the notion that the taking of offence is more important than free expression. If something might cause a motivated group to be “outraged”, rather than, say, cause them to live in fear, then it is illegal, with a fine of up to €25,000 payable.

Note the ease with which a prosecution could be brought, and the punitive nature of the fine: this is not legislation that simply serves to tie up a few loose ends.

The minister claimed that his only alternative to this legislation was to have a referendum. This again, is technically true: any constitutional changes in Ireland require this. But the minister dismissed the notion of organising a referendum as being too costly in these straitened times.

Yet today, we are told there is to be another Lisbon referendum in October. Wouldn’t it have been sensible to hold both the Lisbon referendum and a referendum on the abolition of the concept of blasphemy from the constitution on the same day, cutting down on costs? Wouldn’t it, minister?

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The Guardian guide to UK hotels

Use our interactive map to find your ideal place to stay – as reviewed by our expert Sally Shalam


Commission verifies loyalist disarmament

UVF and Red Hand Commando have put all arms beyond use, body overseeing Northern Ireland disarmament confirms

The international body overseeing the destruction of terrorist arms in Northern Ireland confirmed today that it had witnessed two loyalist terror groups put their arms beyond use.

General John de Chastelain’s Independent International Commission on Decommissioning said the Ulster Volunteer Force and Red Hand Commando had disarmed.

The commission also said it had observed some of the Ulster Defence Association’s weapons being decommissioned.

At the weekend the leadership of the UVF and Red Hand said it had decommissioned all guns and explosives under its control. The UDA also said it was preparing to put all its arsenal beyond use.

A spokesman for the commission said it could confirm it had witnessed a major decommissioning event involving arms, ammunition, explosives and explosive devices belonging to the UVF and Red Hand Commando.

“The leaderships of both organisations have advised us that the weapons and material put beyond use in our presence include all the arms under their control.”

The Northern Ireland secretary, Shaun Woodward, said the confirmation of loyalist decommissioning was “a cause for real celebration”.

He added: “What the people of Northern Ireland want is these illegal weapons taken off the street. These acts confirmed by General John de Chastelain are very significant and I think it’s a big moment in Northern Ireland.”

The US secretary of state, Hillary Clinton, welcomed the move as a “courageous step” and praised unionist politicians for making it possible.

The UVF decommissioning took place under the watch of three independent observers representing three governments – the United States, the UK and the Republic of Ireland – as well as officials from the commission.

A rebel faction of the UDA in South East Antrim has said it is also ready to decommission its weapons and is expected to move towards disarmament shortly.

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Seve hails cup’s new deal

Golfers from Continental Europe and Great Britain and Ireland will face off against each other in Paris this September in the The Vivendi Trophy with Severiano Ballesteros at the famed Golf de Saint-Nom-la-Breteche.  Ballesteros, who was diagnosed with a brain tumor last October and has sinceGolfers from Continental Europe and Great Britain and Ireland will face off against each other in Paris this September in the The Vivendi Trophy with Severiano Ballesteros at the famed Golf de Saint-Nom-la-Breteche. Ballesteros, who was diagnosed with a brain tumor last October and has since