Posted on August 9th, 2013 by admin

The Curious Incident actor lives in Highgate and calls Matt Smith for a good time.


Home is…

I grew up in Devon in a village outside Crediton called Sandford. I try to go back as often as I can; it’s still my spiritual home.

Where do you live?

Highgate Village with my girlfriend Ruta [Gedmintas], twin Harry and our friend Johnny. It sounds crowded, but at least two of us are always away at any one time.

Best place for a first date?

Somewhere lively like The Boogaloo pub in Highgate, which has a good jukebox.

First thing you do when you arrive back in London?

If I’ve been away for a while, I go for a walk on Hampstead Heath.

Shops you rely on?

Beatroot on Berwick Street for food before I go on stage, and Metro Food & Wine by Archway Station for last-minute things on the way home. If I’m going to an event or a party, I always get suits from Burberry, but I’m not sure if that counts as shopping because they lend them to me. I just don’t ever shop.

Best meal you’ve had?

I always have a good time at The Wolseley. There’s a great atmosphere, and I love the mac and cheese and Welsh rarebit; it’s simple food done well.

Building you’d like to be locked in overnight?

I’d take some friends with me and we’d have a jam on the stage of the Royal Albert Hall.

What would you do as Mayor for the day?  

Get a haircut. And give everyone the day off for a street party.

Who are your heroes?

My parents; they are brilliant people whom I have always admired and looked up to.

Favourite London pub?

St John’s Tavern in Tufnell Park for its amazing food.

Best London discovery? 

I’ve been a vegetarian since I was five and a few years ago I discovered Mildreds, which is a great veggie restaurant on Lexington Street. I eat there a lot.

Building you’d like to live in?

Hampton Court would be a pretty good pad right on the river.

Where would you go for a nightcap?

Century is next door to the Apollo Theatre where I am appearing inThe Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, so post-show I’ll go there for cocktails.

Best thing a cabbie has said to you?

‘Hop right in’ instead of the usual ‘Sorry, mate, not going that way’.

Most romantic thing someone’s done for you?

Two years ago for my birthday my girlfriend organised a treasure hunt, guided by text message, which basically involved me getting more and more drunk around London. It started with a shot of tequila in the bar where we had our first date, and ended in a surprise party at my friend’s pub in Soho, The Sun & 13 Cantons.

Earliest London memory?

When I was five we did a house swap with a family in Greenwich. We went to see Starlight Express, and the moment I got home I bought some rollerskates and used to skate round the kitchen.

Biggest extravagance?

Eating out, which I do about five times a week, maybe more.

Who do you call when you want to have fun?

The three people I live with, or Matt Smith, who is a good friend.

Last play you saw?

I went to see Richard III at the Apollo Theatre so I could check out the space and see Mark Rylance being brilliant.

Animal you’d most like to be?

An eagle, so I could fly.

Best advice you’ve been given?

My old drama teacher, Phil Gasson, said, ‘It is what it is,’ meaning if you’re in a situation, just get on with it.

Last album you downloaded?

Amok by Atoms For Peace, a band made up of Thom Yorke and Flea from the Red Hot Chili Peppers — it’s totally beautiful.

At the moment you are…

Standing on my balcony, but in general I am on stage.

What do you collect?

In the last scene of the play I draw a big smiley face on the stage with a piece of chalk, and every night I come off stage with the chalk in my pocket and add it to a long line going all the way round my dressing room. As someone said, I am literally chalking up shows.

Source: The Standard

Posted on August 4th, 2013 by admin

Think Luke Treadaway’s just another frightfully posh, young British actor? Think again. Jimi Famurewa talks chest-waxing and guerilla filmmaking with a country boy done good


Perched on the windowsill of his poky West End dressing room, blowing cigarette smoke into the morning air, Luke Treadaway is trying to delicately describe the time he tucked his genitals between his legs for the benefit of a packed theatre crowd.

“It was for a play called Over There by Mark Ravenhill and it ended with just me and Harry [his twin brother and fellow actor] on stage. I was wearing nothing but pants, high heels, a blonde wig and remnants of food and ketchup that had been smeared on me. It was very European and weird,” he laughs. “I walked to the back of the stage, took my pants off, did a, um, mangina, lay down behind my brother and kissed him [before] the lights went black.”

The 28-year-old actor, currently deep in rehearsal for the Apollo Theatre run of bestseller-turned-blockbusting play The Curious Incident Of The Dog In The Night-Time, has primarily told this story to indicate his most embarrassing onstage moment (“My auntie and uncle were in the fourth row. Pretty awkward in the bar afterwards.”)

But it works as a nod to his fearlessness as an actor and, as we discover after an hour in his company, his somewhat schizophrenic nature. On the one hand, he’s a roll-up-smoking, sometime rugby player who loves nothing more than a few pints of forebodingly strong local cider at his hometown pub.

And on the other, he’s a closet rock star who gleefully recounts drunken meetings with strangers in dive bars and professes a love of guerrilla filmmaking that sets him apart from the ever-expanding stable of well-bred Brits colonising Hollywood.

“Making a film [You Instead] in four days at T In The Park was fun,” he grins. “And I also did a short with a director where I ended up driving a people carrier around the National Forest in LA without a licence while speaking Bosnian with a 6ft camera rig outside. An amazing experience.”

Weirdness and Waxing

Perhaps best known to date for his uncanny turn as a bewildered poshboy stoner in Attack The Block, Treadaway hails from a small village in Devon. Obsessed with music from an early age (he conspiratorially admits that a love of Eddie Vedder caused him to apply bright orange henna to his scraggly hair as a teenager), he soon formed a band with his twin brother.

This stab at rock stardom, combined with a stint in the National Youth Theatre and drama school LAMDA, led to a breakout role playing (in all seriousness) one half of a pair of punk-playing conjoined twins alongside Harry in Brothers Of The Head. It’s a role Treadaway credits with his openness to a future of genital-tucking and ketchup-smearing.

“That first job put me into such a realm of weirdness that anything after has never seemed as weird,” he says. “My inhibitions are pretty small.”

This approach has led to some curveball career choices. As well as the cross-dressed cavorting at the Royal Court, Treadaway’s acting CV includes a murder-obsessed loner (TV whodunnit 13 Steps Down) and his latest role as Christopher, the Aspergic 15-year-old sleuth at the heart of The Curious Incident. It’s a role that he fought for and has thrown himself into, plundering episodes of Brian Cox’s Wonders Of The Solar System to tap into his character’s obsession with the cosmos and science.

“It blows my mind,” he says, visibly awed. “I share that wonderment at space and the universe. I cried four times watching the first episode.”

However, it also turns out that playing a convincing teenage boy requires more than merely making your voice a bit squeaky.

“My chest hair is coming off,” he admits, after an exchange about the he-vage baring clothes in his MODE shoot. “I’ve used Veet for jobs in the past, but that sensation of it burning your hair is horrible. So it’ll either be waxing or shaving. I can deal with the pain. My mates, of course, take the p*ss out of me but I can deal with that, too.”

The continuous burble of friendly mick-taking seems important to Treadaway. He shares a chaotic, instrument filled flat in north London with his girlfriend, fellow actor Ruta Gedmintas, a friend who plays in a band and his brother. But he admits an allergy to the “Spotlight and Equity” chat that obsesses some young actors.

“After three years of drama school you talk yourself out of ever wanting to discuss acting ever again,” he says. But surely, with so many friends and a sibling in the same business, he must have found himself battling for the same role as someone he knew?

“There have been times,” he reasons. “But it happens.” Which brings us to the unavoidable, elephant in the room and back to that food-spattered incestuous embrace in Over There. Is there furious competition between him and his brother?

“In Year 9, Harry was the lead in the play, in year 10 I was, and so on. Sometimes it’s gone one way, sometimes the other. But we’ve got different agents and stuff so it’s [not really] an issue.”

He’s less diplomatic when it comes to who was a better on the rugby pitch. “Oh, I was better,” he laughs. “I was quicker and a harder tackler.”

In fact, rugby is still a huge passion, and the former scrum half lights up as he recounts playing days and underdog triumphs as a kid. “I loved it,” he beams. “My school won the Devon Cup twice which was really exciting. Beating all the posh public schools that had massive facilities, scrum machines and everything was really fun.”

A parable of his against-the-odds bid to topple his privately educated A-list peers? That may be stretching it. But it’s safe to say those schoolboy winners medals won’t be the only gongs on his mantelpiece for much longer.

Source: Shortlist magazine