When I arrive, slightly late, at the small restaurant near Paul Rhys’s home in central London, there he is, all in black, camouflaged against the dark walls, a thick journal in front of him. “I have to write every day or my head explodes,” he explains, putting it to one side. He has 30 years’ worth of material, which surely would make a brilliant memoir. I’m picturing witty asides about great co-stars, while he excoriates himself – and the tale of how a working-class Welsh boy became a posh actor, made some eccentric career decisions when Hollywood beckoned, and is now having a well-deserved career boost as he nears 60. He is great company – unguarded, with a warm intensity. It’s not long before I know how he felt about his mother and that his beloved dog is dying. At one point he says: “Can I ask you some questions?” and I hear myself spilling things I haven’t told my closest friends.
Rhys is in two of this year’s most talked-about films, Emerald Fennell’s Saltburn and Ridley Scott’s Napoleon, and this Christmas will be in the BBC comedy-drama Men Up, a fictionalised account of the clinical trial in Swansea in the early 90s that led to the development of Viagra. People keep remarking on his career resurgence, and he isn’t sure how he feels about it. “You’re just stumbling along through life, day on day,” he says. “I tell you what is really nice – to be working, and to have worked with visionary and significant directors.”
