"The key to Christian McKay," says Richard Linklater, "is that he is that four-year-old who was told he was a genius." Perhaps that's how McKay (who studied to be a world-class pianist before making the switch into acting) was able to embody Orson Welles so fully in Linklater's upcoming Me and Orson Welles, and perhaps it's also why McKay is eager to return the favor by doling out similar compliments to virtually everyone he meets. On a recent day in Los Angeles spent promoting the film, McKay was so determined to flatter everyone who crossed his path (to a CBS reporter who preceded me, he exclaimed, "I must call my parents to tell them I spoke to CBS News! You have made my day!") that he left most reporters swooning.
In between blandishments, I talked to the breakout actor about his vocal technique, the line in the film he concedes is badly-acted, and the unexpected perks of playing one of history's greatest filmmakers.
It's interesting that you have such a strong musical background. I've long found that with very musical people, there's a facility for sound, voice, and mimicry that can only help you as an actor.
Totally. No, I totally agree with you, Kyle, I think everything is ultimately musical. Our voices, the sounds of the city -- everything's musical. An impression of Orson's voice is easy. To give flavor to it, to embody it yourself...it was very, very difficult. It took me a long, long time.
What was hard about it?
That accent, that extraordinary voice. I'm a baritone and sometimes occasionally, a lower-range tenor, so I had to do it physically and learn to open my chest. You know, I did the same when I played a eunuch, I went very, very high, like a mezzo-soprano. It's technique, but sometimes you have to learn the technique.
It actually sounds like it could be physically painful.
This was eighteen months ago, but when I watched the film, I couldn't believe how low my voice was. I used a portion of my mouth as a kind of echo chamber and a totally open throat, but that actually helped the physicality of him. It's more difficult playing a real-life person than a fictional character -- you can go easy on yourself with a fictional character.
Now, you've played Welles before onstage. How much do you let your knowledge of--
God, you've got a great voice.
Hey, thanks.
No, really. Now, that's what I'm talking about! That timbre! That authority!
I'll lend it to you if you want.
[Laughs] Well, I've got a pretty good one myself.
Anyway, I was about to ask...you've played Welles from youth to old age in the theater, but in this film, you're playing a very particular moment of him as a young man. How much do you let your knowledge of his future inform your performance?
Well, you have to totally ignore anything that happens after. It was easier to play the old man at seventy, 350 pounds with a beard, than it was to play the 22-year-old.
Why?
Because I had to go back myself. I was 34 when I made the movie, so I was going back to when I was 22! I was playing Rachmaninoff then, at 21. I had to bring that into play, that bluster and arrogance, as far as personality is concerned. In terms of the film, it would have been dangerous to think, "In a couple of months, he was doing War of the Worlds." Then, lines like, "How the hell do I top this"...well, that's a very bad-acted line when I watch the film, because that's not Orson at all. That's me.
It's a wink at the audience?
It's just me, Christian. Orson's gone. I thought, "That's my line, not his." He went on to write Citizen Kane, War of the Worlds, untold masterpieces. No, I felt like that...after the film, what are the possibilities?
There have been a lot of actors who've played Welles onscreen. Did you want to bring something new to the table that those performances haven't really explored?
You're a very good journalist.
[Laughing] Christian! I'm serious.
No, I saw them all. Yes, of course! It's like how I listened to other people play Rachmaninoff's Third.
I'm surprised. I know so many actors who would be terrified to look at other people's interpretations.
Really?
Sure. There could be a fear there, a fear that someone else's performance would be going through your head when you're trying to give your own.
Perhaps. I'm not like that. I have my Welles and it's interesting to watch their takes on the character. That would drive you mad if you worried about that! If I played Hamlet, I would think about Olivier, you know? There are some fantastic actors who have played Orson, including Orson himself. [Laughs] So I watched those out of interest, and for entertainment. Cradle Will Rock, Kane in RKO 281, D'Onofrio in Ed Wood...yes, I watched them.
You're definitely something of a Welles expert at this point. Did the cast or Richard rely on you as a resource?
I think so, yeah. I've done my research, and I was comfortable with what I wanted to say about the character. The great thing is that I was in agreement with what Rick wanted to do with the character, even though when I first met Rick, I was saying, "Go get a famous Hollywood star to play him. They're not going to cast an unknown Englishman." I'd never heard of me, let alone anyone else! But I had no fear, because of who I was playing. Some actors play themselves, don't they?
And are good at it.
Oh, of course. I wasn't saying that negatively -- what I meant is that they play extensions of themselves as a character. If I did that with this role, in my first film, I would have been terrified. Instead, I was playing Orson, and there was a wonderful security in that.
When you're embodying Welles so fully, do the other people on set treat you with a reverence befitting him?
Well, it's hilarious: We were in Deauxville, at the film festival, and I was surrounded by all these wonderful French filmmakers. Eventually I said, "What are you asking me about film for? I haven't got a clue!" It was the association, of course. Very strange. There was also the 85-year-old lady whose hand I held as she cried..."You're just like him." Of course, I'm not at all, but she'd just seen the play. I didn't want to say, "I'm just a character actor. You should have seen my eunuch." And Welles had left this woman for Delores del Rio. There were things like that.
Having played him onstage, did you have to pitch your performance differently to play him on film?
That was the technical problem. If you see a theatrical performance on film, it doesn't read, even if it reads perfectly well on the stage. It seems forced or hammy, a bit larger than life - but then, I'm playing a theatrical animal who's larger than life! It was terribly difficult, because I didn't want to bring him down. People say, "Oh yes, on film, you bring things down," but that's not true. You know the scene where I'm screaming at Sam Leff? How could I take that down? I'm biased, but this idiot is questioning your authority in front of your whole theatrical company! I couldn't take that down, but then again, a theatrical performance of that would have been deadly. Richard taught me -- he'd do this. [McKay subtly flicks two fingers downward] And nobody would see it. I was thrilled, though, because four weeks in, he suddenly went like this. [McKay flicks the two fingers up a little] And I suddenly boomed in the theater, "Goddammit! I'm subtle!" [Laughs] ♦