Major spoilers for Saltburn to follow.
A touch over three decades ago, Paul Rhys was on a roll. In 1990, he starred opposite an ascendent Tim Roth in Vincent & Theo, a biopic of the Van Gogh brothers, considered one of American screen legend Robert Altman's most deeply personal — and underappreciated — movies. Later, he played another other-brother in Chaplin, as Sydney to Robert Downey Jr.'s Charlie, a blockbuster biopic with similarly awards-courting credentials.
But while Roth parlayed his indie success into major screen collaborations with Tarantino and an Oscar nomination for 1995's Rob Roy, Rhys couldn't escape the allure of the stage, back in Britain. “Pippa, my agent, said to me, ‘You’ll always want the theatre. You won't be fulfilled unless you do,'” Rhys recalls in conversation with GQ. “And I needed to go do Hamlet, and all those plays at the National Theatre. It was just part of how I was trained, and who I am.”
Since the ‘90s, then, Rhys has mostly worked in theatre and TV. IMDb lists his last feature-film role as in 2011's low-budget spy flick Eliminate Archie Cookson. Well, that's until this month, when Rhys mounts his character-actor-comeback: a scene-stealing part as the ghoulish butler, Duncan, on Saltburn's lavish estate, and as French aristocrat Talleyrand in Ridley Scott's Napoleon.
Here, Rhys speaks to GQ about Saltburn, Napoleon, and everything that led him here.
GQ: You’re in two of the biggest movies of the year, after having not been on the big screen for over a decade.
Paul Rhys: I was in loads when I was younger. But I kept going back to the theatre. Tim Roth and I were both in America together, with the same agent. It was huge in America, with all the Oscar buzz. I was about 23. Tim was a bit older, he’d been around. But we were really close — we still are close.
I used to turn down so many films to go and do a play. But now I feel this enormous hunger. It’s wonderful to be back. And also not to be in any old film, but to be working with people like this. It’s the deepest satisfaction for me.
Was there something about Hollywood that put you off, back then?
I mean, we were the flavour of the month. Everybody wanted to meet us. And the British hadn’t cracked it in quite the same way. So we were still alien. I’m always a bit alien. I’m too tall. I’m too pale. I’m too Celtic. I’m always going to be alien in that sunshine. But that’s partly why I like it, actually. It’s good for aliens, I’ve discovered. All the aliens end up in Hollywood. [Laughs.]
All I wanted then was to work with great people. Tim had a much better way of articulating than I did, and a much better business sense. I’ve never understood that if you go away and do a play for three years, don’t expect to have a thriving film career.
It doesn’t sound like you have many regrets.
I think I’d do it differently. I do. I’m not saying I did it right. What I am saying is that I did it the only way I was able to do it. And I can’t fault that, because that’s all I was capable of. I could have certainly put a bit more intelligence in, and a bit more business savvy. Young actors now are much more aware.
Young actors nowadays have more guidance — they have entire teams around them.
There was nothing when we started. You had to have that sense of yourself or you didn’t. I didn’t. I’m also from a very ordinary background, I wasn’t sure of myself at all. I was not brought up to be confident.
I said to my mother at the end of RADA, ‘I’m coming to the end of my shows, and it looks like what happens at the end is that some of the parents come.’ She said, ‘I’m not coming up there, watching you make a fool of yourself.’
That must really linger for you.
What, the lack of support I had? Yeah. It’s probably part of the reason I wanted to be an actor, to prove them wrong, or something like that. Or to make myself seen. I think a lot of actors are fighting something. Perhaps the better ones are even in more conflict with their inner lives and others.
Well, now you’ve come to this great, serendipitous moment, where these two big movies are coming out almost at the same time. I know Saltburn was anything but an ordinary shooting experience. You stayed in the actual butler’s quarters.
I mean, people think it’s eccentric and unnecessary.
That’s something that’s been said to you?
Oh yes. People just openly laugh. I think it’s humorous when actors go to great lengths to find the truth. [But we were there for] eight weeks, and I think I was there all the time. With Duncan, you never know if he’s needed. So I treated myself very much like a servant. I’ve got no problem being a servant. And also, for me, I’m never my own class. I’m very rarely human. I’m either somehow immortal, or—
Or, specifically, a vampire. [Rhys has played vampires in 2009's Being Human, 2015's Da Vinci's Demons and 2020's A Discovery of Witches.]
The king of the vampires, many times. I said to [theatre director] Robert Icke once, “The thing is Robert, I’ve never been the boy next door.” And he said, “No, Paul, but you’re going to be a wonderful wizard next door.”
Did you all stay together on the Saltburn set?
Rosamund had a little cottage nearby, so the kids could visit. And we used to do our sessions in Duncan’s room. “Tell Duncan everything” sessions, we’d call them.
What did that entail?
Oh, the kids telling me stories about their childhood. We were always improvising, it was great fun. Just brief little sessions. Everything about that film was fun, as dark as it is.
You went so far as to write a biography for Duncan, I read.
I was obsessed with him. I found his story so moving: how much he loved this family against his will, because he’s not paternal. He hates children, but because he was stuck with these kids through the summer holidays again and again, he grew to love them. So when [Felix] dies, it’s devastating to him. He conducts all of the pain of that family into himself, and can express it. They can’t. They’re cauterised in their responses, in that regard. And he’s not.
In your mind, what happened to him after Saltburn?
He is Saltburn, so he will be there until he dies. Which is probably never. He’s probably immortal. He’s probably already about 1000 years old. He’s like a gargoyle on the west facade. He’s part of it. If Duncan left, Oliver leaves, because it can’t be Saltburn without Duncan. I always knew that. His right to it is much greater than anybody’s.
What’s your view on the conversation around Napoleon’s historical accuracy, or lack thereof?
The bits I was in I know are historically accurate, because I did tons of work on it. And I didn’t find many flaws in the film. I can’t really speak for the big that’s been criticised, which is more about the geographical accuracy. Maybe there were liberties taken, I’m not sure. But the bigger question is whether a historical fictional film should have to obey documentary rules. I don’t see why they should.
In my view, if you want historical accuracy, you can read a book.
You have some responsibility, of course, internally. Joaquin was very truthful to what he thought Napoleon was, and I agree with his interpretation. I’m not sure. If you’re looking at history through the lens of Hollywood, you’d be an idiot if you were looking for accuracy in any area, but it doesn’t mean you’re not watching great films.
