At the age of 13, Paddy Considine knew he wanted to escape the British council estate that he called home. He just wasn't sure how. Considine discovered the answer – or, rather, several – thanks to what he describes, with characteristic self-deprecation, as a mix of accident and coincidence.
Now 44, he's found fame as a photographer, actor, writer, director and musician, despite never having gone in search of it.
Following memorable performances in films such as Shane Meadows' small-town cult classic Dead Man's Shoes, Considine has taken roles in an eclectic selection of productions, from period detective series, The Suspicions Of Mr Whicher, to big-budget blockbuster, The Bourne Ultimatum, and more recently, opposite Steve Buscemi in Armando Iannucci's comedy-drama, The Death Of Stalin. He's also written and directed a short film, Dog Altogether, and a feature, Tyrannosaur – both of which won a BAFTA.
Yet despite his many successes, Considine has always resisted the allure of the movie-star lifestyle. He still lives in the Staffordshire town where he grew up, Winshill, with his wife, whom he first met at 18, and their three daughters. He admits he'd sing in his little-known band full-time if given half the chance, but he's too busy.
Considine's 2018 sees the UK release of his second feature film, Journeyman, the tale of a boxer dealing with hard knocks of many kinds. It's the first of many projects he has lined up. In that sense, he's the victim of his own success, or, more specifically, the punk-inspired mantra that got him where he is today: Get off your arse and try something.
The Red Bulletin caught up with Considine at London's Gibson Guitar Studio on a rare day off from shooting the BBC counter-terrorism drama series, Informer.
You've starred opposite Michael Fassbender in the 2015 film Macbeth, and appeared in hit TV series' such as Peaky Blinders, but there aren't many Hollywood blockbusters on your CV. Has that been a conscious decision?
Selling out doesn't sit well with me. I do go to Hollywood, and people blow smoke up my backside for a week, tell me I'm the best thing that ever lived. I have no problem with that, but it doesn't go to my head. I know they'll do the same to the next person who walks through the door. I find it really funny.
A lot of your roles – notably in your own films, Tyrannosaur and Journeyman – are almost the antithesis of the Hollywood hit. Did you always plan to stay closer to home with your acting and film-making?
I've never had a plan. I feel as if I've been shifted along towards this almost by accident and coincidence. I didn't start acting until I was 25. Before then, I'd only done the odd school play, dropped out of a drama course, and had no desire to be an actor. Then I worked on building sites, was unemployed, and used to hang out at college, as it was somewhere to go, even though I wasn't on a course.
There the photography, film and video tutor Colin Higgins saw me hanging about, and got me to do a course in editorial photography. I ended up with photos in The Guardian and The Independent, and I loved it, so I always had a career as a filmmaker – behind the camera, rather in front of it – at the back of my mind.
And then This Is England director Shane Meadows gave you your first acting job...
Yes. We met at Burton College, and became this combustible duo you either loved or hated, but couldn't ignore. We even had a band [She Talks To Angels] – him singing, me drumming. Shane asked me to be in his film A Room For Romeo Brass [1999] so I gave it a go, and became an actor because of that. It's still the most important movie I've done, and my favourite. Everything rolled on from that.
It seems you were a natural. Just three years later, you starred in the drama, In America, directed by the great Jim Sheridan.
Yes! Talk about being thrown in the deep end. I thought, 'Oh God, he made all those films with Daniel Day-Lewis. What am I going to give Jim that Daniel hasn't?' Jim was Ireland’s top filmmaker, though, and my Irish dad was dying at the time so I took a chance and did it for my dad so that he could be proud of me. Unfortunately, he died just before filming started. Still, I learned a lot from Jim about how to work with actors, and it put me on the map.
When the director says, 'Action!', I feel as if someone is putting handcuffs on me
Do you consider yourself fortunate, or is all this the result of hard work?
It's a bit of both. Luck, being in the right place, and working with the right people all help, as does making the right choices. But you have to do the work. A film doesn't make itself; you have to put the hours in. I feel very fortunate that I've been allowed to do this, as it can be very cathartic. But it takes guts, tenacity and a stubborn resolve to get a film made.
I remember being enthralled by film-making as a teenager, and asking the head of year on my drama course how I could become a film director. He replied, "You could never be a film director, Considine!" I believed him, but even though it took a while, I've directed two feature films now.
Are you more comfortable as a director than an actor?
Definitely. I feel as if the pressure is off me as a director, and I find it a lot easier being a creator – a writer or director – than being in the film. I always feel intimidated as an actor, because I feel I'm not doing a good enough job, which isn't very productive. The best creativity, and fun, comes from being uninhibited. When the director says, "Action!", I feel as if someone is putting handcuffs on me, rather than letting me off the hook. But with directing I feel free, as a big part of it is managing actors to get the best out of them, and make them feel as if they're doing something worthwhile.
In your new film, Journeyman, you play a boxer. What drew you to that subject?
I've loved boxing ever since I was a kid, and I've always had this assumption that I would play a boxer one day, but I wasn't sure how that would manifest itself. I started writing [the script] in 2009, and I knew I didn't want to do just the standard boxing movie: I wanted to do my boxing movie.
The way it ended up, my character could have been a racing driver, a jockey or a rugby player, as it was more about him overcoming extreme obstacles than the boxing. When I started writing it, I didn't know he was going to collapse injured and suffer a brain injury – that came out of nowhere. But I pursued the idea, as I thought that was where I should go.
Is it easy to direct yourself?
It wasn't always going to be me [playing the lead character, Matty Burton]. I looked at many other actors who could do it. I sat there and thought, 'Just own up to the fact it's going to be you', because I'd written the other characters with actors in mind, but not the lead. Still, I went through all those fears like, 'You're fat and old'. 'You've got a bad neck and a belly'. There was a lot of fear, but I had to face up to doing it, and I'm glad I did it. You've got to try. And if you fail, don't worry about it.
Yours hasn't been the typical career path. How were you able to go where others couldn't?
Where I came from, we had nothing to lose, and no one ever told me to stop dreaming. But there's a lot of shit you have to go through to move into this other world. It's not easy to overcome being root-bound, but you have to try, as you never know what you might succeed in.
As a kid, I was obsessed with Adam Ant and wanted to be him [he flashes a tattoo of the '80s pop icon on his forearm], and how could I do that? But I remember kids on the council estate getting punk bands together, and I was so impressed. That DIY punk ethic – get off your arse and try something, even if you're untrained – has always inspired me.
Is that why you turned your hand to music, too?
Yeah. I've been in bands since I was 16, and I’m in one right now: Riding The Low. We play in pubs, we don't have a manager, we put out our own records, and we have a small following. It's untouched by everything else. I just love it. It's my reward for all the other work. I'd do it full-time if I could.
Your many successes are proof the DIY ethic can lead to big things. When did that sink in? Did you ever feel like calling your mum to say, "You’ll never guess what I'm doing now?"
Getting my college degree was my greatest achievement, though that's nothing to do with films. I think my mum would have been more pleased with the fact I've been married for 26 years, I have three wonderful children, and I've been a decent husband, and a good father. Nothing I could do professionally would make her prouder of me than that.