(Photographer: Unit Paramedic Chris Storey)
(Click on the small picture to see larger version)
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The star of Extremely Dangerous is, of course, Sean Bean. "Artiste" it says, rather grandly, on the call sheet, where the day's actors have been listed in order of importance. But Sean Bean seems to me to be anything but an "artiste" - because to me the word implies someone who should be slightly aloof, basking in the glory of having one's name listed first, enjoying the trappings of "stardom". Sean Bean is not like that. In fact, he seems to me to be the complete opposite. The first thing that becomes apparent about Sean is that he is tall. Nearly six feet, in fact, though onscreen and in photographs he gives the illusion of being shorter and smaller. It is an illusion. The second thing which rapidly becomes apparent is that Sean's voice is not the voice of Sean Miller in Patriot Games, Alec Trevelyan in GoldenEye, Spence in Ronin or even Richard Sharpe, the role for which he is best known in England. Having an ordinary conversation with Sean, one is struck by how quiet his voice is, how softly he speaks, how strong his Sheffield accent is, and how extraordinarily polite he is. And it doesn't seem to be a politeness that has been artificially imposed out of a need to deal with his status as a celebrity. Rather, Sean's politeness seems to be second nature. Journalists who have written about Sean in the past have described him - almost with a degree of surprise - as well brought up. Other writers have focussed on a somewhat rebellious and reckless youth, punctuated with occasional displays of tabloid-fodder behaviour later in life. These descriptions, which at first glance might appear to be incompatible, are in fact completely in-character for the man now standing before me. Sean Bean is not a cardboard cutout. He's a complex individual - "a man of few words," I've been warned, by Northwestone's Michael Foster. But there's a lot going on "behind the scenes." The third thing one notices about Sean is his eyes. They're green - a much lighter green than is usual - and they are intense. "What are you doing here?" he asks, partly out of curiosity, partly because he is genuinely surprised by my appearance in Manchester. I make appropriate noises about the opportunity being made available to visit the set. We progress to a conversation, necessarily limited by circumstance and time - he is, after all, in the middle of filming, and his presence will be required very shortly in the dark alley around the corner. Nevertheless, I am struck by this man's sincerity, and by his seriousness. He is not a person to shrug off a conversation with a fan as "part of the job." Not this fan, anyway. Neither is he one to take important matters lightly. There is a degree of keen analysis in Sean's mind which does briefly take me aback. But I am left with the feeling that if Sean Bean is "a man of few words", it's because he himself chooses it to be that way. Our conversation lasts longer than any I've observed him engaging in all morning, and it comes to an end only because his cellphone is ringing. "I'm terribly sorry," he says, with that surprising politeness, "will you excuse me?" I have a second chance to chat with Sean later on in the afternoon. It's nearly time for our train back to Stoke, and Sean is in between scenes again, waiting while the camera and sound and lighting are set up. It strikes me as being an incredible sort of existence, requiring a strong sense of personal identity. One minute, Sean must be Neil Byrne, battling gangsters, fighting for his life. A moment later he is Sean Bean again, speaking in a very ordinary voice, in a very ordinary way, about very ordinary things. The transition must be jolting, yet Sean seems to have an extraordinarily clear sense of who he is and where he is going. He also has an incredibly expressive face, one which has served him well onscreen - and which now conveys offscreen exactly what he is thinking and feeling. Reluctantly, I say goodbye. But I have the impression I've learned more about Sean Bean this afternoon than I did reading a decade and a half's worth of newspaper and magazine articles. |
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(l to r) Winona Kent, Sean, and Julie Kimpton (Photographer: Unit Paramedic Chris Storey) (Click on the small picture to see larger version) |
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