By Șerban Mark Pop and Rebecca Roca-Rozenberg
Ahead of his masterclass at the Radisson Blu Hotel on Friday, June 19, at 12:00 PM, we spoke with Aidan Gillen about his experience as a TIFF juror and about what continues to draw him to art.
Aidan Gillen: It was received very well, actually. I only made it to the screening toward the end because I’m on the jury, and yesterday I watched four films, so I only caught the last twenty minutes. The audience was very enthusiastic. We had an hour-long Q&A, and then I spent another forty-five minutes meeting people outside the cinema. It was very encouraging.
It’s always an honour. This is the third time I’ve served on a jury, and you always learn something along the way. I take it very seriously.
The films have been quite different from one another. They all have a great deal to offer, each in their own way. And I’m only halfway through! There isn’t really a difference between being a juror and being an ordinary viewer. I go to the cinema, I love films—it’s the same thing.
Of course, you have to stand up for what you believe is good. I’ve learned not to be too easily influenced. These are important awards. Films depend on the exposure they receive at festivals and, perhaps, on winning an award along the way in order to continue their journey or even to be seen at all. That’s especially true for filmmakers making their first or second feature, which is something TIFF focuses on.
When I watch a film, I look to be surprised and moved. I don’t want to feel time passing, and I don’t want to notice the mechanics of the film or the machinery behind its construction.
Usually, it starts with the script. A good role in a good script. The people you’re surrounded by matter as well.
It’s nice to think that a project will be widely seen, but many of my favourite projects—the ones I’ve acted in—haven’t really been seen by large audiences. If I told you which films I consider my favourites from my own career, hardly anyone would have seen them, but they’re good films.
In the case of Gorky Resort, I felt it was deeply connected to the present moment, considering what is happening between Russia and Ukraine. The opportunity to work with Polish filmmakers was also important. I admire Polish cinema and its place in world film history, with directors such as Polanski, Wajda, Holland, and Kieślowski.
Yes, all the time.
I started out in a small theatre in London. The audience was as close as we are right now. You couldn’t get away with pretending. That’s the kind of acting I like both as a performer and as a spectator.
And it becomes obsessive. You live your life through someone else’s emotions. At some point, I think it became more real than what was happening in my actual life.
As for the things you take home with you, I think you have to do that. I don’t believe they stay forever, but I still think about things I did thirty years ago. That’s my life, you know? Everyone takes their work home with them.
I’d definitely take it as a compliment.
Whether we’re talking about independent films or theatre—where emotions have to be genuinely felt because there’s no other way—the actor feeds off the audience. It’s an exchange that goes both ways.
I take it as a compliment because when I go to see films or theatre, that’s exactly what I expect. Some of the things I’ve watched have affected me very deeply.
The line between audience and actor—the less visible it is, the better. Even when you meet people afterward. That’s one of the reasons I enjoy festivals like TIFF. There isn’t really such a line. You have to know what’s happening in the real world. It should remain accessible to you.