Richard McCabe, Star of London's Yes, Prime Minister, on His Newfound Sympathy for Politicians

Bill McCabe uses Richard as his professional first name, since there was already a Bill McCabe in Equity, the actors’ union. But there is only one Scottish-born actor, now 51, who has accrued such an impressive resume, much of it at the Royal Shakespeare Company in parts ranging from Iago and Sir Toby Belch to the title role in King John. He is currently on the West End following David Haig into the high-powered, if anxiety-prone, shoes of Jim Hacker, the title role in Yes, Prime Minister, adapted from the popular 1980s TV series of that name. Broadway.com caught up with the ever-genial talent one recent afternoon between matinee and evening performances at the Gielgud Theatre.

This production has been playing hopscotch. It opened at the Gielgud Theatre before moving next door to the Apollo, then back to the Gielgud to allow Jez Butterworth’s Jerusalem to re-occupy its former West End perch.
There was a brief period where our marquee was up in front of both theaters, which I can’t ever remember happening before—seeing us in lights on Shaftesbury Avenue twice! There was a photo opportunity that was done as a newsflash with us coming out of the Apollo and actually finding a welcoming committee on hand at the Gielgud [laughs].

I wonder if confused patrons were walking into the wrong playhouse.
They were!

Had you seen David Haig play Prime Minister Jim Hacker last year?
Yes, I did. I love David and what he did, but at the same time, I was determined to give my own performance, not least because you can play the part so many different ways. I’ve tried to chart a journey throughout the evening so that in the first half you have a play about politics and the second half is more personal, and then the two come together.

The play touches on so many topics, it seems almost tailor-made to be responsive to current events.
You’d think so, and there are aspects of the phone hacking scandal and the issue surrounding Greek debt that look as if we wrote the play to respond to the news. But the fact of it is that we don’t chase news, the news chases us; this is not and never has been a topical show, it’s just that world events suddenly resonate in different ways at different times.

Does the part make you wish you’d opted for a career in politics and not acting? Some, like two-time Oscar winner Glenda Jackson, have managed to combine both.
Actually, I think I have a lot more sympathy for politicians now that I’ve done this [laughs]. It’s quite impossible, especially these days, to be a politician! It seems that you can’t tell the truth because absolutely anything you say will be used against you, so it’s a no-win situation—that, and the fact the media can be one of the evils of the modern age. TV presenters, for instance, have no responsibility whereas with politicians, every word they say is scrutinized.

This seems such a quintessentially English show; one can’t quite imagine what its Broadway equivalent might be.
I think that’s because of the history of political satire in our country, where people like [Henry] Fielding and [James] Gillray are absolutely part of the landscape. So to that extent, our show is primarily aimed at a domestic market. That said, we did have plenty of tourists over the summer, and they seemed to be enjoying it just as much. There were huge pockets of them that you would hear suddenly erupting into laughter.

David Haig gave audiences quite a vivid display when it came to Prime Minister Hacker’s meltdown. Is that a challenge for you?
The challenge for me is to play it deadly serious. What’s funny is the increasing desperation—the steady descent into madness. What’s also extraordinary for me about this play is that I put on a suit, and that’s it! It’s the first time I can remember that I get to wear a suit eight times a week.

One has the impression that you are rarely out of work, whether appearing opposite Jude Law in Doctor Faustus or as Sir Toby Belch in the last West End Twelfth Night, to cite just two examples from many.
I’m glad you think so! And I’m going on from this to do the magnificent Edward Bond play Bingo at the Young Vic early next year, with Patrick Stewart. Bond is such a wonderful playwright, totally uncompromising. The play is just so well written; there’s not a single wasted word.

When you are working with someone like Sir Patrick or Jude Law, do you find yourself hankering for that degree of stardom?
For me, this profession is about having a career where you can go on working for 60 years, so I’m not particularly bothered by things to do with fame; I like to think that I just do what I do. Experience tells us that whereas that degree of recognition can happen for one or two actors, for the vast majority it doesn’t, so what matters is to try and be a better actor. That’s more important than pursuing some elusive goal.

Still, it must be intriguing to co-star opposite men who began in the theater and found huge renown on TV and/or film.
It’s good for the credibility of an actor, of course, to do theater: It reminds people who are inclined to be dismissive that you can still do it out there which, heaven knows, both those men absolutely can; they’re amazing actors. And I think it’s very good for an actor, because the two media inform one another. A live audience with live reactions feeds a different sort of acting that will then inform your film work, and vice versa. But, you know, an agent told me very early on, “Don’t worry, it’s not a race.” The idea is to have a certain career longevity.

You’ve had some good assignments on film.
And also some that didn’t make it [laughs]. In Notting Hill, I was part of a whole plot line over six scenes that was completely taken out. That was rather depressing. But I did play Paul Bettany’s assistant in Master and Commander, and in The Constant Gardener, I was Rachel Weisz’s cousin: I appear halfway through to help Ralph Fiennes read a eulogy in a church! What’s odd is that I’ve never been asked to do any comedy in film. That’s something I could certainly do.

We’re speaking on a two show day. Will you take a quick nap before the evening performance to recharge the batteries?
It’s funny: I can never sleep between shows; I think it’s because I don’t like to switch the motor off. I’ll probably have some chicken or pasta, though never the two together, and maybe go out for a quick wander around. Just observing: That’s the best skill of all for an actor!