Although he is easily among o the most accomplished of Ireland s current crop of young actors, transplanted Dubliner Luke Griffin might not be a name on everybody s lips, having previously devoted most of his career to classic theatre productions such as Borstal Boy and The Plough and the Stars. But if you haven t heard of him, you probably soon will.
Now approaching his mid-20s, Griffin looks set for a stellar career, after a highly impressive turn in his feature debut The Disappearance Of Finbar. The film is a low-key, atmospheric account of two best friends on a trek from Tallaght to Lapland part teen buddy-movie, part Scandinavian travelogue and though it isn t quite the film it could have been, it has much to recommend it. Red-blooded young women, especially, should find much to savour in the form of Griffin and his co-star Jonathan Rhys-Myers: not exactly being the most unattractive young men on the planet, there is every possibility that the pair could soon find themselves hero-worshipped by legions of young lassies eager to tear them to shreds.
Griffin has quite deliberately postponed his feature debut for as long as he could, wary of the dangers inherent in plunging in at the deep-end without proper preparation. He explains his decision thus. I said to myself from the outset that I d steer clear of film and television for a while, I d just stick to theatre, in order to learn my craft as such. I just felt that because I was so young . . . you know, I was 18 when I went to drama school, I think I was the youngest person in there, and I just thought . . . y know, if I was to go into TV or movies, I d be young, so I d be cast as the really young fella with blonde hair, or whatever. And people would probably get sick of me a lot sooner. I felt I d rather go in as an actor, when the time came around. It was a conscious decision: I liked doing theatre anyway, and I thought, I ll go into film if the opportunity arises and if I m ready for it.
I d been offered a lead role in this thing called The Young Americans, that starred Harvey Keitel, but at the time I was under contract to the Abbey Theatre, and they wouldn t let me go. So at the time, I was thinking Jesus, it s a lead role . . . and Harvey Keitel s in it! But looking back on it, I m delighted, because I was too young. Think about it, I would have been 21, acting alongside Harvey Keitel . . . it probably would have gone to my head, I d be like (adopts a tone of pure arrogant smarminess) hey, I m a fuckin movie star . So at the time, I was a bit bitter, but looking back, I m made up.
When Finbar came up, it was the right time. I was getting bored, I was getting the same kinda parts in theatre, and I thought, now is the time to take a break. And it was a lead role, a perfect opportunity. Apart from that, it just took me totally by surprise: every time they got round to cast the part of Danny, I was working, and appparently they had six false starts. Eventually, I went in to do this reading I had no idea it was for the lead or anything, I just thought it was a peripheral part in the movie. Then when the call came through three days later, I found out it was for the lead role; my jaw just dropped, it was like Holy shit!
How did you feel about the way Finbar turned out?
Well, the actual shooting was brilliant, Sue Clayton (director) was brilliant to work with, so was Jonathan. Myself and him got on brilliantly. (Pause) I mean, because we were playing the two main roles, that obviously had an effect. There were times I was screaming at him, and he was screaming at me, but we ended up as friends, and we ll always be friends.
It looked a tad on the cold side during the Lapland scenes . . .
It was fucking minus 40! There was this scene where, just after the sex with the girl, I had to walk out of the cabin, she was cutting wood or something, and all I had on was a T-shirt and a leather jacket, and it was minus forty. On the first take, I was hanging around for about five minutes, and when it was time to snap into action, I couldn t speak. My jaw had frozen solid.
Enough to make you wish you were back in Tallaght, I d say . . .
No, I wished I was back in bed with the girl, he says, poignantly. Tallaght was actually worse than Lapland, I think. It wasn t as cold, but it was more miserable, y know? Lapland was fucking freezing, but it was a very dry sort of cold. Whereas Tallaght might have been a couple of degrees above zero, but it was incredibly windy, and it pissed rain all the time.
Did you relate to Danny (his character) in particular?
To an extent: there s no obvious connection, I don t come from the same sort of background as Danny, but the main connection was that I ve been uprooted all my life. I was born in Dublin, grew up in Kells, and then I moved to America for five years, then back to Kells, and then back to Dublin so I found that I related to that side of Danny, the way he made a home wherever he was, he didn t need to be in one particular place to feel at home. That s me: I m comfortable anywhere.
How did you find America?
I don t miss it, that s all I ll say. I was living in upstate New York, about 20 miles from Syracuse. I ve been back once since I was a kid, and I got a bit of a shock, cos it s this really All-American sort of town, very wealthy, it s on a lake, everybody goes to bed before nine o clock, it s that kind of place. Then I arrived back at the age of 15, smoking and asking everyone where I could get a pint, and stuff . . .
What s the most enjoyable role you ve played so far?
I had a really nice part in The Nephew, opposite Pierce Brosnan, that was a nice departure. The reason I took it was that the character wasn t like what I m normally cast as. He was a real sullen, sad, chip-on-the-shoulder kind of guy, which I kinda liked. Apart from that, I ve been offered a week here, a couple of days there in movies, and I ve thought Nah, I m not doing it . It d be really easy to go ahead and just take the money, and I m sure nobody would mind, but it just comes to a stage where you say, hold on, I have to keep my career on line. If I did that, I d just think of it as a step backwards. Having said that, if I needed the money badly enough, I could be persuaded. n