GABRIEL BYRNE

US MAGAZINE - April 1997
Josh Rottenberg

The Actor Talks about Catholic Guilt, Life after Divorce, and “Smilla’s Sense of Snow”

Don’t get Gabriel Byrne started about the g word. “The elimination of guilt is one of the biggest battles I have to wage with myself,” says the 46-year-old actor, with a twinge of dread. “It’s so much a part of the culture I was brought up in. But as Barbra Streisand says, ‘We got nothing to be guilty of.’” Byrne, born in Dublin, Ireland, may have been booted out of seminary school at age 15 for smoking in the graveyard, but his conscience should be Irish Spring clean concerning his acting career. For more than a decade, the actor has spurned the sort of Hollywood-with-a-capital -H roles that have made fellow Irishman Liam Neeson a major box office star, charting a decidedly more shadowy and unpredictable course in films as diverse as Miller’s Crossing, Little Women, Into the West, and The Usual Suspects. Byrne’s upcoming projects include The Last of the High Kings, which he also co-wrote and produced, and the family drama Polish Wedding, with Claire Danes. This month, Byrne stars as a mysterious lover in the thriller Smilla’s Sense of Snow. “The audience doesn’t know whether they should like him or not,” he says of his character in the latter film. “That’s always a really interesting line to play.” Asked about his reported romance with co-star Julia Ormond, Byrne coolly says, “That’s something I’d rather not go into,” without even the slightest hint of you know what.

You didn’t take up acting until you were nearly 30, which is practically middle age by current Hollywood standards.
Yea, I was a late bloomer. I didn’t make my first American picture until I was 37 - that’s pretty ancient, really. It’s proof positive that if you want to do something and feel you can achieve it, you can. Because the odds were against my even visiting America, never mind working here.

Many people assume you’re like the brooding, intense characters you often play. Does that bother you?
It’s an easy assumption to make; I do it all the time with other actors. To a certain extent, I am serious; but anybody who knows me knows I have 10 other sides to me, and one of them is extremely light and bright. But people think I’m dark and brooding, so I guess I am - until you get to know me. (Laughs)

It’s difficult to find a thread in your films.
I remember that Steve Spielberg once said to me, “I can never track your career. You always fly below radar.” I’m drawn to the theme of a movie and the people I work with; those things are more important to me than making a decision based purely on commercial success. They’re what keep me alert and a live.”

Is your agent comfortable with that philosophy?
(Laughs)Maybe not.

Have you passed on any films that became huge?
I passed on one movie that won the actor an Academy Award. But you can’t regret things like that. The whole business is a crap shoot. Something that seems absolutely certain to be a complete dud can turn out to be the biggest hit of the year. Then there are actors who work away for years and years, and suddenly they’re in a movie that shows their talent - like Geoffrey Rush in Shine. You just have to accept the nature of the beast, as they say in Trainspotting.

You’ve confessed you don’t like seeing yourself on film. Why not?
There are people whose chief enjoyment in life is to watch themselves onscreen as often as possible. Good luck to them. I find it uncomfortable. Though I’m realizing there’s not much I can do about the way I look.

Do you get embarrassed, then, when woman swoon over you?
No, I accept it now. I’m grateful because there will come a time when it won’t be the case. But it’s like being told, “That’s a nice suit.” It doesn’t really mean anything deep down.

You and your ex-wife, Ellen Barkin, seem to have stayed on remarkably good terms since your divorce in 1995. How have you managed it?
Well, it not easy. But first and foremost you have to think of the kids (Jack, 7, and Romy, 4, live with Barkin in L.A.). They’re the priority, so you try to be civilized and amicable with each other. What else are you going to do? She’s their mother, and she has to be treated with respect - and vice versa.

Splitting your time between Ireland and L.A., do you ever feel like a man without a country?
Yea, I do feel dislocated in both placed. But I now realize that I need both. My real home is and always will be in Ireland. But I have great friends here. I guess there’s truth in the old saying that home is where the heart is.

Are you still baffled by aspects of American life?
Who wouldn’t be? What I find absolutely fascinating is advertising for graveyards. When you die, the last thing you want to be thinking about is, “Hmmm, should I go to Forest Lawn? (Laughs) But it’s presented as if you’re not going to be dead when you’re there! You’re going to have a great view in nice surroundings with plenty of visiting hours.”

If you could no longer act, what would you do?
(Pause) I’d like to be a postman in a rural area who delivers letters on a bicycle.

OK, I’ll bite, why?
The happiest man I ever saw was the postman when I was growing up, a red-faced man called Ned. You’d always hear him whistling; and if he didn’t have a letter for you, he’d have a kind word. The joy he had in the work he did was something I’ve never forgotten. I envy that kind of simple life and direct communication with people - and at the same time being free to get up on your bicycle and cycle away to the next place.