There's something undeniably delightful in watching a proper, Royal Academy of Dramatic Art–trained English actor getting crazy in a big American film. Tom Wilkinson has specialized in stuffy, repressed types in films such as The Governess and Shakespeare in Love; he earned an Oscar nomination for epitomizing the uptight Maine patriarch in 2001's In the Bedroom. He's the kind of go-to actor who can easily be cast as a priest, lawyer, or doctor—roles he's played many times. He's even a member of the Order of the British Empire. But he can also turn around and surprise you with a role in big-budget popcorn flicks such as Rush Hour and Batman Begins.
Wilkinson's versatility isn't strange, considering his career skyrocketed once he took off his clothes. As one of the unemployed steel workers who turn to stripping in The Full Monty, Wilkinson landed the perfect role to tap into his natural gravitas and his sharp comic timing. The sleeper hit took the world by storm 10 years ago. He hasn't auditioned since.
Once again, Wilkinson is getting some of the best reviews of his career (and a sizable amount of awards buzz) for taking his clothes off. This time it's for playing bipolar attorney Arthur Edens, who suddenly strips in the middle of an important deposition in the legal thriller Michael Clayton. Edens undergoes an attack of conscience after realizing his client, a chemical company, is responsible for poisoning a population, and it's up to the title character (played by George Clooney) to keep Edens in line. The attorney's erratic behavior walks a fine line between courage and stupidity, and Wilkinson tears into the meaty part without ever chewing the scenery.
Wilkinson was shooting a film in Montreal when writer-director Tony Gilroy came to visit. "We went out to supper, and he described the film, and I was so flattered to be even considered," Wilkinson recalls. Gilroy, who scripted The Bourne Identity and its two sequels, had never directed before, but Wilkinson found him a natural—even if he took an unusual tack at times.
For example, the film opens with Arthur's voiceover, speaking to Michael, as we see various establishing shots of his prestigious law office. "The lines were always off-camera," Wilkinson says. "And I asked Tony, 'Do you need me to learn that?' And he said, 'Yes, because I'm going to shoot it.' So on our very first day of shooting, I actually delivered the lines to George, although you never see us on screen. Tony was very clear on how he wanted to do it."
In another scene, Arthur is engaged in an emotional phone call with Michael's son (played by Austin Williams). "I've never met the kid," Wilkinson says. "Sometimes you say, rather airily, 'I don't need the kid on the other side; I just need someone to read the lines.' But Tony said, 'It's already arranged.' And I think it was nice they did that; it was nice talking to that kid. Tony was very keen on small touches like that."
Wilkinson says he was immediately drawn to Arthur for two reasons: It was a great role and the writing was exceptional. "You know what superficial people actors are, don't you?" Wilkinson asks with a laugh. "When you get a film that makes sense to you and you've got great lines to say, of course you're seduced by it." He confesses the script was so strong, he almost feels guilty about how simple it was to play the part. "Basically, if you've got a role that's really well written, it's easy to do as an actor. It plays straight to your strengths. You look at it and say, 'I can do this. I get this.' Then you're okay." Wilkinson points out that it's the bad scripts that require the most work for actors. "I spent a lot of time doing television before movies, and not every script was a Tony Gilroy," he notes. "So you do learn a sort of technique of hiding the bad writing. If you don't have a good script, you're buggered. No amount of good directing or acting can really hide a bad script. You can make it look a little bit better, but on the whole, you're doomed."
Wilkinson found his calling when he was 18 years old and was asked to direct a school play. He selected The Bald Prima Donna (known in the States as The Bald Soprano), by Eugène Ionesco, and "for the first time in my life, I started doing something I knew how to do." Asked why he chose acting over directing, he demurs, "I'm kind of congenitally idle, and directing is much, much harder." But it had never occurred to him to try performing. "It was that time in the '60s when working-class people were in big rock groups and opening galleries, and I realized it wasn't necessarily just these Southern [England] middle-class types that got to be actors; it could possibly be people like me," he recalls. "And once I knew, I never changed my mind. You play this out to the end."
Wilkinson attended RADA and was soon working in British television; he says he's always supported himself through acting. "I've always been lucky that way," he says. He's also been lucky with directors: "I've never had a director tearing their hair out saying, 'This is terrible; what do you think you're doing?' Most directors you meet are pretty bright, in one form or another. If their version of the movie is sort of your version, you're okay."
And when signing on to do lighthearted fare—say, Rush Hour or the Martin Lawrence vehicle Black Knight—Wilkinson says he treats every part with the same reverence. "Once you've decided you're going to do something, you owe it to everybody to turn up with your A game," he says. "I've seen people walking through a movie, and I think, 'Why do it if you're not going to commit to it?' I thought Black Knight was a pretty good script," he says, before adding, "I've never seen the movie."
With the talk surrounding his turn in Michael Clayton, Wilkinson says he's determined to keep everything in perspective. But surely he's heard the awards buzz? "You can't avoid it," he says simply. But he's been through this before. "It's fun," he notes. "But the thing is, an award is not going to change your performance. I didn't win an Oscar for In the Bedroom, but it's still good." Still, it must be nice to know he's considered a "sure thing" for a nomination, according to Oscar prediction sites. "Is that so?" he says, chuckling. "Well. Good for me."