Rhys and I chatted over Zoom while he was in Florence, Italy, on a “bit of a family outing” with Russell and their son. We discussed his Sad Sam eyes, his Welsh acting hero Richard Burton, and the subtle power of gobbling a whole chicken onscreen. Our conversation has been edited for length and clarity.
Since we saw one another, back when I was writing about Keri, you’ve had an incredible run—first “The Beast in Me,” then “Widow’s Bay.”
This could be it!
I was reading old interviews, and, in one, somebody asked, about your 2008 Dylan Thomas movie, “Is this your big breakthrough?” And you said, People keep telling me that about various projects, I can’t think like that.
No, I can’t. And Tom Hanks always—and, I’m sorry, that’s a flagrant name drop—but he always says, his big motto is “This, too, shall pass.” Regardless of the success or the failure, it’s always applicable.
When we last met, you were pretty worried about how people would perceive the tone of “Widow’s Bay,” that unusual mixture of comedy and horror.
Yes, I’m relieved—I think relief is the highest form of happiness, isn’t it? And I wasn’t alone, you know. I know Katie (Dippold, the showrunner) and Hiro (Murai, who directed five episodes) felt, like, This is a tough tone to pitch, a tough one to land. So I’m just relieved that people get it. Hiro and Katie were, like, Let’s not play it as a comedy or a horror story. Let’s just make it into a real world and play for real. And, you know—we’ll try and imbue the rest of it with music!
Katie said her Zoom with you convinced her to cast you.
Yes, I’ve always wanted to go to Katie and ask, What was it that convinced you? Because I just felt like it was a chat. I wasn’t cracking jokes or being particularly scared. It’s just my normal disposition. We talked about Tom, and she said, I want people to have real backstories so that it feels richer. And having seen “Atlanta,” I knew what capable hands Hiro’s are. He is incredibly deft at doing that thing of, you know, living in quite polar extremes, but in a very real place—so you knew the helmsman was very sound.
Which scenes were you concerned about?
Oh, God, there’s a lot. You know, my first scene with Stephen Root (who plays Wyck, a local with deep knowledge of the island’s lore) was when he sang the sea chantey. I mean, I love Stephen Root. I was lucky enough to do “Perry Mason” with him. And so all I could remember was, like, him as this Southern-gentleman lawyer—and then in walks Robert Shaw in “Jaws.” And Hiro said, “O.K., let’s rehearse one scene, just sing him the chantey.” And no one had told me what that chantey scene was like, so Root was going (he lustily imitates the loud, ooh-ing, caterwauling howl of the chantey). So I was, like, what the fuck is going on? Like, is this Root playing with me, or is this the real thing?
I remember asking Hiro, Am I disgusted? Am I frustrated? What is it with him in this moment? Do I care? And he’s, like, No—and then he started building the complexity of Loftis’s relationship to the island. It’s, like, “Remember that your father’s from the island. You came here as a kid for the summers—you heard these stories, so your relationship to all this is very complicated. You can’t quite dismiss it easily, because you’re in danger of losing everyone you know—you have to curry favor with the locals to succeed. You have to indulge them. And there are elements of the island that are true, so you kind of will yourself to make it work, putting blinkers on.” So I remember at that moment thinking, This is going to be more complicated than I anticipated.
And then, you know, Episode 5, being on mushrooms. I was constantly going, Is this right? Is this too much? And the slapstick with the painting, that was a big one. Meeting Hamish (Linklater, who plays the centuries-old, undead founder of Widow’s Bay) for the first time: how ludicrous is this moment? And it was the same: “No, just play it for real, play it real.”