If I’d heard it once, I’d heard it dozens of times. “Will you interview this actor? He’s really handsome, talented, and clever.” Superlatives bandied about to describe any promising newcomer, which is how I came to walk into the Gate Theatre in November, 2017, with an entirely average level of expectation. Newcomers are talked up to the hilt; so few deliver on the hype.
But then there are those that deliver, deliver some more, and surpass even the most hyperbolic PR speak.
The ‘promising actor’ was Paul Mescal, who had graduated that summer from The Lir acting school. Within weeks of graduation, he’d found himself bagging some of the best leading roles in Irish theatre, among them Jay Gatsby in the Gate’s high-octane production of The Great Gatsby.
I’ve thought many times about that initial, unassuming encounter over the past few months, for obvious reasons. At 21, Mescal was entirely charming and sweet (but then, if you can’t be charming for one of your first national newspaper interviews, when can you be?). Boyishly handsome in a classic Irish way – but look, probably no more than some of the guys you went to college with. He was articulate and informed about the cultural climate within theatre, capricious as it was back then. He was holding his own against big theatre names like Roseleen Linehan, Marion Dwyer and director Selina Cartmell.
Paul Mescal in a 2018 stage production of Sean O'Casey's 'The Plough And The Stars' at The Abbey Theatre. Photo: Robbie Jack/Getty
More than anything, Mescal seemed relieved to have gotten the difficult few months post-graduation out of the way. He was certainly more considered talking about things like craft and career than I ever was at that age. I thought I had the potential angle of the story all figured out; a nice young man whose trajectory would see him become, in time, a stalwart of Irish theatre. At one point, and almost as an afterthought, I asked him about fame.
I asked him if there was an actor who he looked at and thought, ‘I wouldn’t mind having that one day?’. In a strange moment of foreshadowing, he mentioned Barry Keoghan, Colin Farrell and Cillian Murphy.
Paul Mescal attends the Irish premiere of 'God's Creatures' at the Dublin International Film Festival. Photo: Stephen Collins /Collins Photos
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“What I love about Cillian is how he falls back into theatre, almost as a medicinal thing,” Mescal said at the time. “I’d love to be thought of almost universally as a good actor.”
As for the idea of proper, movie star fame: “That would intimidate me a bit. If ever it came up, something I’d have to adjust to, I suppose. Or disappear from.”
When the interview ended, I hugged him in an almost maternal way, wished him good luck with it all. I’m too old to have been bowled over by those now-famous blue eyes, and too long in the media game to wonder about whether I’d just had a brush with genuine stardust.
I mean this in the nicest possible way, after this very lovely interview back in 2017, there’s no way I could have predicted what would happen next for Paul Mescal’s career. The talent was very much there, make no mistake, yet I couldn’t have foreseen the nosebleed Hollywood career. I didn’t have any money on Mescal becoming a Hollywood awards ceremony darling while still in his 20s.
Zendaya and Paul Mescal present an award at the SAG Awards on Sunday night. Photo: Kevin Winter/Getty.
I gasped with delight when he became one of the youngest best actor Oscar nominees ever. I could not have foretold the lupine appetite that the cinema-going public would have for him. Mescal could proclaim a fondness for Creme Eggs right now, and a dozen think-pieces would crop up straightaway declaring Creme Eggs as ‘Having A Moment’. That’s the might of his influence right now.
But November 2017 was a long way off from Normal People, Aftersun and The Lost Daughter. It would, in fairness, be many years before Mescal would demonstrate a frankly astonishing ability to inhabit these fragile, complex, vulnerable male characters on screen.
I’ve watched Mescal-mania unfold with a sort of astonishment. I’ve seen online clips of him air kiss Cate Blanchett on the BAFTA red carpet one moment, while exclaiming with untrammelled joy, “there’s my Dad” at a premiere the next. And perhaps this is the combination that has made Mescal such an alluring and intoxicating entity. A commanding, yet delicate screen presence, albeit from a young man who is rarely far from his Kildare roots and has his feet still planted on the ground.