Ben Whishaw, a name synonymous with captivating performances for over two decades, isn’t one to be easily defined. He’s navigated a remarkable career, seamlessly shifting between gritty thrillers, heartwarming family films, and complex character studies – a testament to his extraordinary range.
His recent roles are particularly striking. From the intensity of a troubled love triangle in “Passages” to the stark realities of a crumbling healthcare system in “This Is Going to Hurt,” Whishaw consistently embraces challenging material. Yet, he’s equally beloved for bringing joy to audiences as Paddington, and intrigue as the enigmatic Q in the James Bond franchise.
With the future of 007 hanging in the balance, and a new director poised to take the helm, the question of the next James Bond inevitably arises. Whishaw, however, playfully deflects, admitting a lack of talent for casting. “I find I’m actually a terrible casting director,” he jokes, before adding a thoughtful observation: “It’s always best when they do a really big gear shift from the previous incarnation. Something left field, something unexpected.”
But it’s his latest project, “Peter Hujar’s Day,” that represents perhaps his most daring artistic leap yet. A stark departure from the blockbuster world of “Paddington in Peru,” the film is a deeply personal and intimate portrait of a 1970s New York photographer, brought to life through a single, 76-minute monologue.
The film is based on a real, recorded conversation between Hujar and his friend, writer Linda Rosenkrantz. Whishaw describes the challenge of inhabiting a character not built on a traditional script. “Everything that we were going to find was going to come from these words,” he explains. “It’s not been crafted in any way…the way his mind moves is very rambling.”
Hujar lived a life marked by artistic dedication and financial hardship. Whishaw was profoundly moved by the photographer’s struggles, discovering images of Hujar late in life, wearing worn clothing, a poignant symbol of his poverty. “His desire for fame was based on a real lack,” Whishaw reflects, “There’s something very moving to me about that, because he was very devoted to his art.”
The film’s exploration of failure resonated deeply with the actor. It wasn’t simply about the pain of not achieving artistic success, but the paradoxical way that failure can fuel creativity. Whishaw recalls Hujar’s own self-criticism regarding a photograph of Allen Ginsberg, and the weight of that assessment. “I feel quite intimate with this feeling of reflecting and feeling like you failed,” he admits.
This is Whishaw’s second collaboration with director Ira Sachs, a partnership he clearly cherishes. He speaks with admiration for Sachs’ ability to explore queer narratives, and to infuse even seemingly conventional stories with a sense of otherness. But above all, he values Sachs’ willingness to challenge him as an actor. “He is somebody who is not frightened of telling you: ‘I don’t believe you’,” Whishaw says with a smile, “You crave these people who test you.”
Whishaw is acutely aware of the impact his work has on audiences, particularly within the LGBTQ+ community. He recounts a moving encounter with a restaurant waiter who shared how Whishaw’s portrayal of a complex queer character in “Black Doves” helped him understand his own sexuality. “He said it in such a heartfelt, intimate way that I felt really moved and honoured,” Whishaw recalls.
Looking ahead, Whishaw anticipates returning to the world of Paddington, playfully suggesting a scenario involving a bear’s visit to the dentist – “Any place where a bear really shouldn’t be, [he should be].” He also reveals a desire to tackle a classic detective mystery, perhaps in the vein of “Gosford Park,” a film brimming with intrigue and a cast of compelling characters.
He pauses, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “I would really like to be in a film like that,” he concludes, a satisfied grin spreading across his features. It’s a testament to his enduring curiosity and his unwavering commitment to pushing the boundaries of his craft.
