Those early years as an activist in 1980s Britain alongside Jarman determined the kind of artist she became.
“We were all political people.” She says emphatically. “Our work was political, in resistance to Thatcher… we were so affronted by the claims that were being made by Thatcher and her minions about what it was to be British or English. And I hate to say it, but it’s coming around again.”
But despite their anti-institutional stance, it was a particular institution that helped this circle of “cultural filmmakers” (such as Jarman, Sally Potter, Ron Peck, Peter Greenaway, Terence Davies) to flourish.
“We didn’t really identify as part of any film industry, and that had something to do with an extraordinary thing called the British Film Institute, which still exists in a certain form. But at that time there was this commitment to support filmmakers,” Swinton says, emphasizing the last word heavily. “They would give us maybe 200,000 pounds to make a film, which wasn’t that much but the idea was that they’d be there for the next five films. And that’s what we want as artists. We want people to want us, not just a project, not just some potentially profit-making product.”
“At that time there was a semi-industrial film industry with people like Merchant-Ivory and David Lean,” she continues. “But we very much identified as being counterculture. But, to be supported as counterculture…! I don’t want to sound nostalgic because that doesn’t get us anywhere, but wow, that was a great moment.”
And Swinton did once flirt with becoming part of that “establishment” film industry, before having a moment of revelation in the middle of an audition for David Lean.
“Lean was preparing a film of ‘Nostromo,’ it was going to be his last film. And I remember going to do a screen test and I was very star-struck, overwhelmed. I will tell you the truth, I was uncomfortable all the time I was in conversation about this film. I was uncomfortable because it was these gatekeepers, this massive production company, massive makeup artists, massive David Lean, massive everything. And I was really wriggling. And they started to roll and I remember actually bailing, inside. Just thinking, ‘Tilda, you’re not ready for this, you’re not happy, this is not right.’ And I literally just withheld. The strangest thing. Afterwards, David Lean told me that he saw the rushes and he said, ‘I thought she was so great but there’s nothing there.’ But that was me realizing that my authorship was not required. I was not required, and that was a very big moment. From then on I decided (probably unconsciously) to only go where I was required, where it was me.”
Aside from her collaborations with Jarman, it was Sally Potter’s “Orlando” that really put Swinton’s career in the ascendant.
“I met Sally on a march and the next day we met in a cafe. She put the book ‘Orlando’ down on the table — really, at that time my heart’s favorite novel. And we did talk for a while about doing it in one room with backdrops costing 5 pounds. But then we realized, no, we wanted to make something with more scope, but we had no collateral, we were nobody. It took us five years, but it was a great adventure.”
Her kids don’t watch her movies, but will maybe watch “Orlando,” if not for the reasons she’d hoped.
“My children have always avoided seeing my films and I’m quite proud of them for that,” she says happily. “But I’ve always wanted them to see ‘Orlando’ and it’s because I have twins — boy-girl twins, which is the universe’s joke. But they look so like ‘Orlando,’ the male and female versions! So anyway, not that long ago I left out a DVD of it, and I heard my daughter calling out [to her brother], ‘Xavier! Xavier come and look! ‘Orlando!’ We should see it!’ and he says, ‘Why?’ and she says, “Billy Zane‘s in it!” [laughs delightedly].
And if her kids don’t do it, her friends will bring her down to earth.
“I was once described as an ‘arthouse superstar’ and my friend Henry Rosenthal quickly said, ‘Don’t get a big head, that’s like being described as a jumbo shrimp.'”
Of all her vampires, witches and “immortals,” the biggest stretch for her to play was corporate lawyer Karen Crowder in “Michael Clayton.”
“That was a really classical film, beautifully written by Tony Gilroy. I was so intrigued to play that character, I mean, it’s so exotic! To play a corporate lawyer! I can barely grasp what that life is. Very occasionally I’ve dipped into this kind of high naturalism — which I really do like, but it does need a finer-tooth comb. Because people are scrutinizing. You have to be a convincing corporate lawyer, where who knows what a convincing 3000-year-old vampire is. But that level of forensic detail is itself really delightful.”
The key to playing a character so far removed from herself was Karen’s “shyness.”
“I try and locate in myself or in my wheelhouse, something that makes sense to me authentically, some tiny part of my DNA, and I will place that as the bottom layer of a portrait. So that at the very bottom is something relaxed. Something that I really know. For example, with Karen Crowder, I placed at the very very bottom of her this shyness, this feeling of not being comfortable in public, which is very personal to me. Because I am very shy myself and that meant that however exotic she was and however American and however ludicrous the vocabulary she used, however weird her clothes there was something that I could really rest on.”
