The man of many faces

Press, 24 April 1987, Page 13

The man of many faces

lAN WOOD WARD

talks to the talented British

actor, Ronald Pickup, who stars in “The Mission."

Ronald Pickup resembles a fairly undernourished greyhound, thin and wispy and nervous, with large brown eyes and a slightly distant expression. But appearances can be deceptive — certainly where Ronald Pickup is concerned. Over the years, mirroring that other great trouper, Alec Guinness, he has become a man of many faces. And, on closer scrutiny, it is obvious that very few of them have actually been his own. Such is his versatility, and his penchant for subtle disguises, that even Ronald Pickup is sometimes confused as to his' real identity. Among a long list is the

physicist Albert Einstein, the Roman emperor Augustus, the philosopher Nietzsche, England’s Prince John and the eccentric Earl of Howard. There is also the novelist George Orwell, the dramatist Samuel Beckett, the poets Shelley and Gerard Manley Hopkins, the composers Verdi, Stravinsky and Puccini, and people as diverse as Pope John Paul II and Beatle John Lennon. One of his most recent films is “The Mission." “As you get older you start to wonder why producers are casting you as all these real-life characters,” ponders the chameleon-like actor who celebrates his forty-sixth

birthday this year. “It’s probably because I’ve got a face which doesn’t look like any one thing, a fairly faceless face." Now the stage lures him less and less, but ironically, it was as a result of the huge reputation he built up during his formative seven years with Britain's National Theatre that film and T.V. producers began to cast him in his now-famous historical roles. He worked particularly closely with Lawrence Olivier, often playing either his brother or his son. “I still have a vivid memory of this strange, blond man with his hypnotic voice," says Ronald. “I suppose subconsciously,

as I grew up, I always wanted to work with Olivier." Ronald, the son of a lecturer in French at a teachers’ training college and of a mother who was “a terrific mimic,” lived out his fantasies as a boy growing up in Chester by pretending he was the great actor, mesmerising the cash customers from the silver screen. He was the star of school plays. “I’d have been furious if they hadn’t cast me in the juiciest parts,” he says, with an arrogance borne of those whose talent has never had to be questioned. The ex-public schoolboy explains: “I was pretty hopeless at everything

else at school. I was fiendishly shy and introverted, and had some pretty overwhelming complexes about my appearance — you know, aware that I wasn’t the school athlete that this sort of institution, at that time, said you ought to be. “I began to come out of my shell a bit at drama school, probably because I was with a lot of likeminded people ... Anthony Hopkins, Nicola Pagett, Terry Hands, Angela Richards and Susan Fleetwood were all there.” And so was his wife-to-be, American actress Lans Traverse. This year they celebrate their twenty-third

wedding anniversary. “I think that proves something, and not just a great tolerance-factor on Laos’s part! I really do believe we were destined to share our lives together.” One thing is certain, though. The man of many faces can fool you and he can fool me, but Lans can see right through him. “A lot of people seem to think I am quite gentle,” he murmurs gently. “Lans knows Tm not I don’t mean to say I beat her! But I do have a roaring rage at times. “I might as well as admit it — I’m a hypochondriac. Lans teases me about it and so do my friends. An actor friend, Charles Kay, once did a

cartoon of me in me ypm* ?■ 2000, still blowing my nose and complaining about my achea and pains. “That’s me exactly, rm paranoiac, always terrified. It might stem from some deep-seated fear that if you’re ill you can’t work. You can’t be an actor and be ill; you can do a desk job and feel lousy, but It’s very difficult to act when you feel lousy.” He muses, “I’ve been lucky, having the support of someone like Lans. I trust her judgment because what she says always seem to be bang on. And she is so patient, whereas I’m quite the opposite. I have a tendency

muco, wmcn stens u<w a : thirty low patience threshold. “I often wonder if we’d still be together today if rd been married to aomebotir like myself. I dpubt it She provides my rock. Without her stability I couldn’t function; you’ve got to have a stable centre.” His children are also very supportive, says their father. “They seem to have liked what they’ve seen me do, and for what I hope are the right reasons. They’re smashing about it Actors* kids know that this is a rough business as well as a marvellous one.” —Copyright Due.