10 Questions for Actor Toby Jones

10 QUESTIONS FOR ACTOR TOBY JONES The English everyman is now the king of a make-believe Italian castle in 'Tale of Tales'

The English everyman is now the king of a make-believe Italian castle in 'Tale of Tales'

What is it about Toby Jones? A decade ago he had a stroke of luck when a film producer spotted his physical similarity to Truman Capote and cast him as the lead in Infamous. The luck wasn’t unadulterated. Philip Seymour Hoffman played the same role in a different film and won an Oscar. While Infamous was overshadowed, Jones wasn't. The latest advance in his career finds him playing a medieval king in a film from the director of Gomorrah, the ultra-violent portrait of organised crime in Naples.

Matteo Garrone's Tale of Tales adapts three of the many fairy stories anthologised by 16th-century Neapolitan courtier Giambattista Basile. In a story known as "The Flea", Jones plays a king who promises to marry his daughter off to anyone who can identify the pelt of a mysterious creature. The clue is in the title, but this is no ordinary flea, which under the king’s care has grown to monstrous proportions before dying.

There's a strong moral dimension hidden behind this fantastic imagery

Jones has a face for make-believe and the role continues a fantastical thread in his CV which began when he was cast as the voice of Dobby the house elf in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. But more than any other screen actor of his generation he has also come to embody the ever-changing face of Englishness. Recent roles have included Neil Baldwin, the Stoke City fan with learning difficulties in Marvellous, Alfred Hitchcock in The Girl, Captain Mainwaring in the Dad’s Army remake, and the terminally single obsessive Lance in Detectorists. One day he'll make a wonderful Falstaff (he had a brief run-out in the role for the Globe's 400th anniversary celebrations). So how come he’s the king of a castle in the middle of southern Italy?

JASPER REES: Where was your section of Tale of Tales filmed?

TOBY JONES: The Castel del Monte in Puglia. You can look out from the roof and you might as well be in the Middle Ages. It’s absolutely amazing [see trailer overleaf]. It’s in the middle of nowhere. It’s intact and we just filmed there. There’s hardly any CGI in the film. The flea stuff is just puppets.

It’s very different from your last visit to Italy, Berberian Sound Studio.

Yes, very different, although the making of it was kind of similar. What’s refreshing about making an Italian film – even though it’s English-speaking – is there’s a certain chaos on the set which is all about the energy and the enthusiasm of making films. Sometimes in England and America the industrial process takes over to such an extent that it’s all a bit systematic and everything’s been thought to the nth degree and there doesn’t seem to be that same “we’ve got this and we can do that!” There’s people losing their tempers because it matters. It’s not all executives whispering to each other. It’s out there. Matteo – because he was producing the film as well – he’s passionate about this material. In a weird way I think it’s quite closer to Gomorrah. When he said, "I’d love you to be in my next film" I said, "Absolutely, loved Gomorrah, I loved Reality." And then this script comes. What the hell’s this? But when you look at what it’s about, it’s treating the same kind of humans in thrall to their own desires, in thrall to their own instincts, misbehaving adults. And here the root of all of that is these fables about people who can’t control themselves who succumb to their own weakness. And clearly there’s a strong moral dimension hidden behind this fantastic imagery. It’s not Gomorrah but there is a banality to the fantastic that’s a bit like the banality of the violence in that film.

Your section feels like the most rounded narrative. The king condemns his daughter Violet to a terrible ordeal. Is it a parable about the perils of paternal self-obsession? (Pictured below, Toby Jones with Bebe Cave).

That’s what I was thinking about when I was making it. Everyone goes on about the flea and you go, “the flea is a bit of a McGuffin.” When I think about my daughters growing up, one’s fear for the future means that I tend to become nostalgic about the past. "Don’t change, don’t change." The change that will happen is that your daughter will leave and you yourself will become a child again in old age. There is a reversal in the story. I think it is about paternity and about complacency and about not seeing what is in front of you.

Were you able to draw on your own relationship with your father [the actor Freddie Jones] in any way?

Not directly but when you say it like that I think there is a connection. I think that in his job and in my job you’re often disconnected from your family and you’re coming back in and having to retrieve time to become reconnected with your daughters. And they have their own lives. They’re not daughters, they’re people, and in a sense that’s what she’s fighting for in this film.

There’s been quite a lot of you in the fantasy genre - Captain America, The Hunger Games, Dobby. You were one of the seven dwarves in Snow White and the Huntsman and had a role in the spoof Your Highness. Regardless of where you’re filming it, whenever the original material was written, are you occupying a different world and mental space, and are there different requirements to doing fantasy storytelling?

To a piece of naturalism or social realism? I think you spot actors who think there is. I don’t think there is a big difference. In a way your job as an actor is to know what your character wants from the scene, what are your character’s needs, short term and long term, why they’re there, what they desire. Even Dobby, there’s this tremendous heart and desire to serve and you cheapen that by going, “But he’s only a house elf!” The audience loves it if they feel it’s a truthful need that you have. I think there are technical differences. When you work on those big big films like Captain America or Harry Potter it’ll be a scene that you return to over several months, then you reshoot, then you return to it again, dub, redub, it gets re-cut, you do it again. Any initial thought you ever had about it has become compromised by the sheer macro-economics of those franchise. Whereas a film like this, it’s a big-budget film but it’s tiny compared to those films. It’s a hugely ambitious film for Italy. You get one go at it and there isn’t the money for loads of retakes and reshoots. But in both films it’s the same thing. If people like Dobby it’s because they think Dobby’s a person.

You attended the French clowning school, L'Ecole Jacques Lecoq. How much did it help you inhabit that world?

It’s counterintuitive but I think it helps me massively all the time. It’s such a practical concrete training about space, and about breathing and telling stories with breath, not just with words, it’s a visual training, it’s about economy of sign-making. And often in film, it’s understanding the space you’re in and how far away you are from the camera and what the nature of the space is which is effectively a proscenium arch anyway. The further away from the Lecoq I get the more I realise that training has had a profound effect on the way I work on a film set because it just gives you a very quick sense of what you’re doing. Other techniques you use on top of it but it’s just very very practical. It’s about what your body is saying whether you like it or not. Whatever you mouth is saying your body can be saying something totally different or it can be sympathetic or consonant with what you’re saying. There is a sentimental side of me as I get older that goes, "It really was the best decision I ever made," because it’s proved so useful in so many ways, just as an outlook, feeding your curiosity as an actor about what you can use and how you can use it. If you’ve done two years at that school you’re interested for the rest of your life in drama.

You just never know what you’re going to get with you next. Do you know what directors and casting directors are looking for when they want you to play a stressed banker in Capital or Neil Baldwin in Marvellous (pictured below, Jones with Baldwin).

The really honest answer is that if I was to try and answer that it would get me into an area which I really more than anything else try to avoid. As I get older the less clear I am about what I convey… that’s why it’s no use to me to go and look at a monitor after a scene. Because I just see what I always see which is me on a monitor. But they see the character. If I’m doing it properly they see the character. If I see me, I don’t want to see me, I want to see the characters and I won’t see the character, but they see the character.

Is it difficult to watch your work when completed then?

Yes I have to be careful about this because it’s really bordering on cliché, this, about not wanting to watch your work. I don’t get anything from it because I only see what I didn’t do and it never looks like it felt to do.

What didn’t you do in Marvellous? Or did you not watch it?

I did watch that because I was so intrigued to see what he [director Julian Farino] made of what we shot and how he cut it. And also because I’m interested to see the films. Whether I enjoy them or not is a different issue.

It's been announced you're to be chief villain in the new series of Sherlock. Can you say who you are playing?

Can’t say. Very short answer. Not allowed to say. Signed something.

Why was Detectorists (pictured below) so good?

Because Mackenzie Crook didn’t write comedy, he wrote characters. I was dead set against doing it. I was dead set against doing any kind of comedy show, and he said, “I’ve written it for you, but if you don’t like it just be clear.” But it was so clearly written for people like with their mates shooting the breeze, trying to cope with banter.

Is there another one coming?

Having spoken to him I think there might be another one but I don’t think it would be in the same format and I don’t think it would be a movie. But I think there might.

Are you over Capote (Jones pictured below with Sandra Bullock as Harper Lee)?

It was never a problem [giggles]. It was never a problem! It was a problem that was projected onto me by so many interviewers going, “Here’s a good spin.” As I always said, the idea of me playing an iconic American author surrounded by those actors in a lead part when I’d just been doing theatre for 10 years, it was so unlikely, how could I possibly feel disappointed? I think people projected stuff onto it.

You last acted in the theatre five years ago, playing Turner in The Painter. When is your next appearance in the theatre?

I hope it’s soon. I haven’t got anything planned. I’d love to do something in theatre, I really would. I’d love to do some Shakespeare.

Overleaf: watch the trailer to Tale of Tales

DVD: By Our Selves

The only way is Essex to Cambridgeshire for lovelorn Romantic poet John Clare

There’s nothing more affecting in a 2015 British film than Freddie Jones reciting John Clare’s “I Am” in By Our Selves, the documentary scene that concludes Andrew Kötting’s semi-fictional paean to the Romantic poet of enclosure-traumatised agrarian England. Jones memorised the poem for his portrayal of Clare in a dramatised 1970 Omnibus instalment, ironic sound bites from which Kötting wove into his film’s aural tapestry.

Marvellous, BBC Two

Toby Jones shines in a fantasy football drama that happens to be true

Marvellous reviews itself in its title. The story of Neil Baldwin starring Toby Jones was – and is, because you should catch it while you can on iPlayer – simply marvellous. As a dramatic character Neil Baldwin could be mistaken for unremarkable. He has no hidden depths. Positioned somewhere along the autistic spectrum, he is apparently away with the fairytales, but his grandiose fantasies mostly happened to be true.

Circle Mirror Transformation, Royal Court Theatre Local

Annie Baker’s award-winning new play is a site-specific adventure in theatre therapy

With site-specific shows it’s a natural urge to start by reviewing the location. And I’m not strong enough to resist this temptation. So here goes. This new piece by American playwright Annie Baker takes place at the Rose Lipman building in Haggerston, north London. This is a community centre, and first impressions are not encouraging: duck-egg blue walls, dirty windows, faded carpet squares, discoloured ceiling tiles, encrusted neon strips, cluttered notice boards. Don’t go if you feel depressed.

The Girl, BBC Two / Miranda, BBC One

THE GIRL, BBC TWO / MIRANDA, BBC ONE Biopic quests for the source of Hitchcock's blonde obsession. Plus a comedy brunette

Biopic quests for the source of Hitchcock's blonde obsession. Plus a comedy brunette

The BBC makes a habit of dramatising the difficult lives of those who have entertained us – tortured comedians, anguished singers, even troubled cooks. Whatever you make of their merits, the message accumulating across all these biodramas is that the audience’s pleasure comes at the cost of the artist’s pain. Or as Alfred Hitchcock put it in The Girl, “Who pays our wages? The audience.”

DVD: Berberian Sound Studio

Toby Jones stars as diffident sound wizard sucked into a schlocky Italian horror film

Berberian Sound Studio has the quirky flavour of an academic treatise on shlock horror with lively slide illustrations. Peter Strickland’s claustrophobic homage to the Italian giallo – in which diabolical dismemberings are perpetrated upon female innocents - would seem an odd leap from Katalin Varga, his brooding revenge drama set in rural Romania. But both films bring an outsider’s all but ethnographic eye to the rituals of Euro-barbarity. The game changer is that Berberian Sound Studio is also funny.

Berberian Sound Studio

BERBERIAN SOUND STUDIO Toby Jones swaps his garden shed for hardcore horror in Peter Strickland’s ingenious, giallo-inspired thriller

Toby Jones swaps his garden shed for hardcore horror in Peter Strickland’s ingenious, giallo-inspired thriller

If in space no one can hear you scream, that’s certainly not a problem you’ll experience in a giallo sound studio. Known for their high anxiety and buckets of blood, the Italian giallos of the Sixties and Seventies gave us heinous horror, drenched in style. Directors such as Lucio Fulci, Mario Bava and Dario Argento enjoyed a reign of terror with their handsome barbarism benefitting from fantastically histrionic sounds and scores.

DVD: Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy

Cast and director display perfect pitch in acclaimed le Carré adaptation

Gary Oldman's shrewd and skilful portrayal of mole-hunter George Smiley has prompted excitable Oscar gossip, but the biggest success of Tinker Tailor... is its creation of a melancholy sealed world where the common currency is secrets, lies and disillusion. Swedish director Tomas Alfredson has brought a supernaturally observant eye to jaded 1970s London, where a disgraced Smiley is brought back to the Circus (John le Carré's pet name for MI6) to conduct a clandestine probe for the traitor leaking secrets to Moscow.

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy

TINKER TAILOR SOLDIER SPY: Delightfully old-style thriller with a shadowy modern twist

Delightfully old-style thriller with a shadowy modern twist

Tomas Alfredson’s riveting, stately adaptation of John le Carré’s classic spy novel is an immaculately measured teaser, delivered one carefully heaped spoonful at a time. Primped, polished and with the tension ratcheted up a notch for the big screen, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is a high-wire tight introduction to a group of men who live their lives in guarded apprehension. It’s populated by an all-star cast, led by a formidably restrained Gary Oldman as - watcher of the watchmen - George Smiley.

Christopher and His Kind, BBC Two

Isherwood has a gay old time in Nazi-era Berlin

Is there a televisual instruction manual for Nazi-era dramas? Cabaret singers with heavily kohled eyes, champagne from unmatched glasses in a shabby-chic apartment, smoke-filled gay bars in cellars with muscled trade, Stormtroopers marching in lockstep and Nazi banners unfurling from windows would all be on it. If there is, Christopher and His Kind last night was following it - but then it also wrote it.

Christopher Isherwood is responsible as much as anyone for our perceptions of the period, but after decades of cinematic and theatrical adornments and encounters in this mode, a production of Isherwood's memoir cannot help but seem hackneyed, a victim of its own style. Still, returning to the source (in Kevin Elyot's adaptation) at least allows us to understand that before the style there was a story.

The story, rather depressingly, is of a one-man universe, of the complete selfishness of Isherwood (Doctor Who's Matt Smith) amid decadence and disaster in Berlin. It is a wildly unsympathetic part: Isherwood cannot see the world beyond his penis. The film shows this very well, both in the vivid yet unerotic sex scenes (this film will be heaven for Doctor Who slash fiction fans) and in the whirling and unexpected camera angles, which replicate the novelty and horror of everything to Isherwood, who is unworldly - or uninterested.

Isherwood is politically uninterested, certainly - despite great chunks of exposition from other characters (your heart falls when you get another GCSE history class) and their urgent moral opinions, Isherwood fails to stir himself at the rise of the Nazis, and even seeing the Nazis beat up someone hardly motivates him. He checks out a Nazi at an adjacent urinal, for God's sake. A wealthy Jew challenges him about opting out from "the messy business of living" in favour of art.

It takes a bravura scene of book-burning for him to contemplate the "shame, shame" he mutters about: both the Nazis' and his own. The scene works so well because, although we often hear about it, the dragging of carts of books, the enthusiasm of the arsonists, the random pages of books thrown up into the night sky on the force of the fire are rarely as vivid to us. (Having Wilde and Mann's books on the pyre, licked by flames, was probably overdoing it.)

But even after this it seems that he is emotionless. He cannot understand how his boyfriend will not leave Berlin and his brother - Isherwood found it easy enough to leave his own brother with their shrewish mother. He wants to get his boyfriend out of Germany, but confesses to being slightly relieved when he is deported from England, facing an uncertain fate. Matt Smith is able to take on the unpleasantness, even the deadness, of his interior as Isherwood appears more of a monster, and every time his heart does not break, Smith manages to make him look almost sorry for it.

Imogen Poots plays Jean Ross, the inspiration for Sally Bowles, and when they meet in Knightsbridge before the war, she flashes him her copy of his book, glad that he has cannibalised her life, just like he has turned Toby Jones's preening queen into literary fodder. Like much of the rest of the film, and Isherwood confesses this at the start and towards the end, we are watching his memories, not fact, and only in his mind could Ross feel this way. Poots and Jones humiliate Smith in their emotional shading, but Smith never stood a chance by pouring himself into this chilling man, even though he does so convincingly.

Isherwood leaves, and not just Berlin - he goes to California. In a late scene in his Seventies Californian apartment, he confesses that he was isolated but says that he was helping the cause of gay rights without realising it at the time (by screwing a series of models from Vogue tableaux, according to this film). In his political, financial, social, sexual safety, this comes across as base self-justification a million years and a million miles after he fled. I suspect the director wants us to have some sympathy for Isherwood, with a touching shot of a meaningful Berlin-era clock, but after this film, sympathy is denied to the man who denied sympathy to all others.