Eddie Marsan is hugging everyone. The waiters. The cooks. Several strangers. We’re in E Pellicci, a café in east London, near to the council flat in which Marsan grew up. He’s been coming here since 1972, when he was four. Pointing at some shiny wood panelling, he says, “My brother-in-law did that polishing.” And at a window: “That’s where they served ice-cream,” gelato-style. Tea arrives at our table, then a bacon sandwich, then a plate of chips Marsan didn’t order – a gift from the kitchen. Asked why he picked this café as a place to meet, he says, “Basically, I thought to myself, Well, if you want to talk to me, we can meet here, because, well, this is my hometown, and it’s still very much a part of my life.”
Marsan, the character actor’s character actor, is 53 now, deep into a chameleonic career that has taken him from east London to Hollywood. He lives in Chiswick – four kids, wife of 20 years, middle-class life – but he still comes back. “I was here the other day to give a eulogy,” he says. A nextdoor neighbour had died. “It’s funny in these flats. Someone fixes your washing machine. Someone else does the painting and decorating. And people think, ‘Oh, Eddie’s an actor, he’ll do the words.’ So I do the words.”
