Chris New exploded on to the West End three years ago, playing Horst to Alan Cumming's Max in the West End revival of Bent. This season, he is re-teaming with that play's director, Daniel Kramer, in a stage version of Prick Up Your Ears, playing the dramatist Joe Orton opposite the murderous Kenneth Halliwell, Orton's lover-turned-destroyer, of funnyman Matt Lucas (Little Britain), in a surprising change of role for the TV star. The play, adapted by Simon Bent from Orton's own diaries and from the John Lahr biography of the same name, promises to further enhance the profile of New, a truck driver's son who, like Orton, is both a graduate of London's prestigious Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts and an out gay man. Broadway.com caught New on a recent morning in a conversation ranging from the actor's uncanny resemblance to the legendary figure he is playing to a trajectory that has, quite literally, depended on the kindness of strangers.
How is the production going?
It's the Comedy [Theatre], so the laughs we get are like cannonballs have been fired on to the stage. It's kind of amazing. There is a huge amount of comedy in the show but also it seems to make us work much harder on the drama so the comedy really flies and then the dramatic moments, I think, hit home because of that contrast.
It's extraordinary, isn't it, how enduring the whole Orton-Halliwell story is, given that it has been 42 years since Halliwell murdered Orton in their tiny Islington flat and then killed himself?
Well, I think there's great mystery in the myth that has arisen surrounding both these men who were very private, essentially. You've got the diaries and friends' accounts and quite a lot of documentation of what occurred, but we don't really know anything that happened in that room. You kind of know what it looked like, but there is that mystery at the center, which is: Why did Joe stay with Ken? Also in the popular understanding of the myth, Ken is not very well understood. It's only with the passage of time that we're allowed to start to really look at Ken with some sympathy without it being an insult to the people who were involved in the situation—which is to say, Joe couldn't have been just an angel or Ken merely a monster.
And, of course, most people seeing the play walk in knowing the ending.
It's a bit like Greek tragedy in that way. Everybody know it's coming but what's interesting therefore is the journey between A and B, not A and B itself.
It strikes me that you genuinely do look like Joe Orton, and of course you and he are alumni of the same drama academy.
I think we've got quite a similar face, though I'm really a bit too young for the part: I'm 28 and Joe was 34 when he was killed. But it's odd: the most interesting thing I've found is that we share a thought process. When I read his diaries, his experiences and the things he was writing, especially when he was younger, about wanting to lead a different kind of life and get away— that was all very similar to me. We're both from working-class backgrounds and ran off to London to go to RADA to train as an actor. Joe was from Leicester and I'm from Swindon, a town of concrete and fence that you may know as the most ridiculed town in England if you watch The Office.
When were you first aware of Orton and his work?
I've known about Joe since I was 15 or 16, I guess, and he's been in the corner of my mind for many years. At college as part of my A-levels, I did [Orton's play] The Erpingham Camp. And over the years people have said I either look like Joe Orton or Antony Sher.
I don't see the Sher connection at all beyond the fact that I gather you are a friend of Ian McKellen, as is he.
Yes, I go over and help Ian learn his lines and read the script with him. I helped him read King Lear and stuff. I've learned a lot from watching him work. Ian looks at his script and goes through it every day. Some actors never look at the script and once the show is up and running, they put it away; Ian is forever combing it, again and again.
But unlike Ian, who famously didn't come out until he was well established as a classical actor, sexuality has seemingly never been an issue for you.
Well, it isn't an issue anymore in terms of having to repress being gay, at least in my view. What was more of an issue for me was coming from a place where nothing was happening, Swindon, to suddenly this massive place, London, where there were huge amounts of things happening. I think I just ran around going, "Oh my God, oh my God," like a kid in a toy shop. It was a big thing for me to meet people who weren't living purely a consumer experience, because in Swindon, people rightly or wrongly live a very normal life. They go to work, they buy nice things and have nice holidays and bring up their kids. Unfortunately, there's something wrong with me which means that doesn't work, and I came to London and met loads of people for whom that doesn't work, either—where money wasn't an issue, where possessions weren't an issue, a whole different code of beliefs and faiths.
What did your family make of a decision that to them must have seemed rather remarkable?
My father is a truck driver and my mom flits about and does various jobs, so I think it was quite difficult for my parents to understand what it was all about. Obviously, there are things they do understand, like TV, which is their territory, but to do a play at the National, they don't really know what it means. I have an older brother who works at Tesco [the supermarket chain]. He's quite happy being there but I think he had aspirations to work as a photographer.
You clearly connected with RADA.
It was brilliant for me, perfect. When I went to RADA, I made a conscious decision that for three years I would become a bit of a hermit and focus on what I was doing. I would earn some money and concentrate on my work. I had to beg and borrow lots of money in order to be able to do it, since I didn't have any money at all. I wrote 300 letters in the first year to everybody I'd ever heard of—any face or name I recognized. I just thought, even if you can give me five quid, if 100 people give you five quid then it's all right.
Wow, talk about the kindness of strangers!
[Laughs] I didn't get many responses. I think most people binned the letter, but some people didn't, and that's what got me through. I've been able personally since then to thank all of those who helped me except one, who's very, very private.
Do you think people will be surprised by Matt Lucas’ work in this?
I think they definitely will. Obviously, he's got immediate access to all his comedic skills but in this show he has completely stretched the other half of himself, which is the dramatic bit, and he's been absolutely brilliant. In rehearsals he was completely open and vulnerable and was constantly saying, "I don't know what I'm doing; I want to learn something new." He wants to take a risk: there have been days where it has been very hard but I have been so impressed.
You certainly seem to find yourself opposite some heavy-hitting colleagues: Matt here, Alan Cumming in Bent, John Lithgow in the Twelfth Night you did at Stratford.
It was fascinating working with Alan. He's obviously got a much longer career than I have and a very particular career for his personality, which is amazing to be around because in a sense the career fits the personality. Some people you meet, their personality doesn't reflect the career that you see. When I worked with John Lithgow, I was aware of this crazy comedian with all these Hollywood movies and awards. In fact, he's the most down-to-earth, normal guy who loves pottering around with his wife and is beautifully well-read and enjoys his life slowly and carefully and it just doesn't match [the career itself]. But with Alan, it absolutely matches: the career and the personality are one. You just get drawn into this party, basically.
I see that your resume mentions your "tenor singing voice, with extensive range." So why no musicals?
I did Assassins at RADA and that was one of my favorite things there, playing Charlie Guiteau In fact, I think it's the best performance I gave at RADA. It was the first time I had done a Sondheim, and I've become a complete devotee of his since—that is the show that got me my agent. I say I'd love to do it again but it's almost one of those things you don't want to do again because the experience was so special. David Grindrod, the casting director, has been trying to get me into a musical ever since.
Nothing for you in Love Never Dies, the sequel to The Phantom of the Opera?
Andrew Lloyd Webber hasn't called me, unfortunately.
I suppose there's the entire American market still to crack.
Oh,yes! I am quite a virgin to the American audience, I guess because I haven't done any films. There have been talks about going to L.A. and meeting with some managers and all that, but I am very happy to take that slowly. There is no rush. When you go over there, you want to have something to offer. You don't just want to be another person knocking on the door. Having said that, if the call came from America, I would love to go.