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Joking with wolves

Karen McVeigh

(photo caption: Kevin McKidd tries to appear in productions he'd not be embarrassed to watch with his friends and family. )

Some movies, look like they were great fun to make. Buddy movies. Heist movies. Anything with Cary Grant. But the last thing that springs to mind when you are sitting in the dark feeling scared and a bit sick, waiting for some unseen thing to take yet another victim, is what a good laugh it all must have been for the actors.

But for Kevin McKidd, best-known as Tommy in Trainspotting, the making of Dog Soldiers - think visceral Blair Witch Project meets Zulu in the Scottish Highlands - was the "happiest and most creative" shoot he's ever been on.

"We all set ourselves up for a fall," says the Elgin-born actor, "We had such a good time making it that we all thought - oh man - the criticism would be bad. We thought they'd be snobby about it, especially the broadsheets, you know: 'This isn't what a British film should be doing, leave it to the Americans. we should be doing kitchen-sink dramas, stick to what they're good at' kind of thing."

But the film, about a platoon of squaddies hunted down by 7ft werewolves, got rave reviews. Empire and Total Film awarded it four stars and as for those broadsheets ... the Observer said it was "among the most watchable British movie of recent months". The Scotsman went one better, calling it "the most entertaining British movie of the year".

At the London PR company where we meet, McKidd has just discovered the movie's co-star, Sean Pertwee, is in the building and goes off to greet him. I catch up with him over a buffet lunch and remark that, having seen the film, I'm in no mood to eat. In fact, I feel a bit shaky and sick - it's quite gory. "Great!" he enthuses, "that's good. Horror movies should make you feel like that."

The film is a change in direction for McKidd, 28, a veteran when it comes to playing life's losers. From his film debut, as teenage gang leader Malky in Small Faces, to his fitness fanatic addict in Trainspotting through to corrupt barrister Billy Guthrie in Channel 4's North Square, he has had a run of unheroic roles.

In Dog Soldiers he plays the lead, rifleman Lawrence Cooper, a Boys Own action hero who defends his men to the end.

McKidd, who had to endure gruelling combat training to get himself into shape, broke a rib and a bone in his hand after insisting on doing all his own stunts. It was brilliant, he says.

"This guy is the action hero - which is brilliant to do, but I wouldn't say it's my Keanu Reeves Speed moment."

Playing heroes does make a difference, he says, but not to him. "It probably would, to people in the industry that I would consider to be shallow in their views," he says. "When I did Acid House, it's all about this character that gets completely f***** over by his wife. He's looking after the baby downstairs and just when you think he's about to get out of it, he goes back for more - she says, let's get back together and he says, OK. I remember a few people in the industry coming up to me and saying, 'It doesn't show you in a good light, its not a heroic part, you should be going for that now, this is the next step for you. You need to be a hero.'

"I was, like, if I was doing it purely for profile, I'd go and get a part in EastEnders or Casualty or something."

The father-of-two, dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, occasionally thumps the back of the couch, not in anger, more in mild disgust, reserved most often for those behind what he believes to be mediocre telly. Television is definitely not his bag, I discover.

"Personally, and its purely personal, not me trying to take the piss out of anybody, but if you're interested in furthering your craft - whatever that means - you should be doing theatre and film. I'd rather go and ride round on a bike to pay my bills than do what I don't believe I should be doing, purely for money."

McKidd, who was supplementing his income by working as a London bicycle courier only three years ago, has been busy since then. He has played the lead in Bedrooms and Hallways, performed Gilbert and Sullivan in Mike Leigh's Topsy Turvy, played Vronsky in Channel 4's Anna Karenina, and the lead in North Square. Meanwhile, he and wife Jane have moved out of London to the Bedfordshire countryside, to provide a bit of space for their two children, Joseph, two and two-month-old Iona.

When I ask whether, with Dog Soldiers, he has left his couriering days far behind, he is disarmingly honest, or humble, or perhaps both.

"The thing about this game is, if you're talking about the likelihood of me getting work, I'm not a bankable name. I'm just a working actor. I'm too cynical about it to think that any film I make would make that big a difference. I see myself as exactly the same as I saw myself when I was doing mountain bike couriering. As far as being offered work, OK, it's the lead guy and he's a bit cool, so there is that difference, I suppose."

His own benchmark, McKidd says, is simple.

"It's not some high falutin' arty thing, just something I'd want to go and see, a play or a film. Most telly, I wouldn't want to see. There's an attitude. You can see it, it's like 'Oh I don't really give a s*** about this piece of telly but I'll do it anyway'. In this game, they dangle a big carrot in front of you, saying, We'll give you three series and this much money I've done it a couple of times and always not liked myself because of it. Even although I've earned decent money, I've thought, wait a minute I've just spent three or four months doing this thing and if I sat down with my mates and my wife in front of the telly I'd think it was a pile of pish, and turn it over, so why am I doing it?

"I don't want to lie on my deathbed and go, I'm now a great television actor. I mean, no offence, but that's where my ambitions lie. Great film actor and great theatre actor."

In Dog Soldiers, McKidd, Pertwee, and the other actors were involved in the creative process. First-time director, Neil Marshall, who also wrote the film, encouraged them to come up with ideas. The resultant movie, says Marshall, was "less gimmick-laden" and "more dramatic". McKidd loves the technical aspect of movies - "the dynamic of close-up" - and the collaboration and wants to explore writing and directing, but not quite yet. "I've got ideas in my head, but with two kids - Man, how do you get time to get to the computer and write?"

He admires actors such as the Oscar- winner Jim Broadbent, with whom he recently worked on a film of Nicholas Nickelby, and US actor John Cusack, whom he met on a film about an Second World War arts dealer, Max. In it, McKidd plays George Gross, real-life founder of the Dada movement.

"Jim Broadbent's a great actor. He's very unshowy about it all, that's what I like about him - just comes in and does the job and does it really well, and is really good at what he does.

And Cusack - again, he tries to pick interesting stuff, not going down the obvious route, not going down the blockbuster route. I admire folk that are trying to make their own way through it instead of following the herd."

The son of a plumber and secretary, McKidd wanted to be an actor ever since he took part in school plays at "around six or seven." He dropped out of Edinburgh University, where he was studying engineering, to take up a drama course at Queen Margaret's College, and from there was picked up by leading theatrical agency ICM.

Playing Tommy, Trainspotting's anti-drug warning incarnate - somehow missed by those who criticised it as a pro-drugs movie - turned McKidd's life around. At the age of 21 he became an actor people recognised - with the huge hit as his calling card.

It is time, I tell him, to nail the lie about the ubiquitous poster - the one that mysteriously has four blokes and a rather attractive woman on it, despite the fact that Kelly MacDonald was in the film for about five minutes, unlike him. McKidd has always muttered something about "being in Tunisia with his girlfriend" at the time of the publicity shoot as the reason he doesn't appear.

"Oh yeah," he laughs, "It's totally cynical. I don't really know what happened. Originally they wanted six people, but basically I think the PR people and a few others decided it would be better to have a nice pretty lassie's face on the front than my ugly mug. I could accept that."

He has vivid memories of standing at Waterloo station with his girlfriend on a trip to London at the time and her telling him to turn around "slowly" and look up at an enormous billboard carrying the legendary film poster. It must've hurt like hell at the time, but McKidd is pretty nonchalant about it these days.

"You can't really regret things like that," he says. "In the end, the important thing was, I was in the film. People came up to me afterwards and said, "Oh your character really spoke to me, I've been through something like that myself. I mean, that's what's important really.

"Telling stories in an entertaining way."

The Scotsman 16 May 2002

 

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