Paul Mescal enters the north London cafe after a quick walk through the snow from his gym. Heads turn, but Mescal is oblivious. He shakes out a hooded jacket, then nonchalantly removes a sweater to reveal a ribbed torso with a white tee. More cans. The star of After sun, Scottish director Charlotte Wells’ tender visual poem about a father and daughter, sits down and rubs her stomach. At this point it’s way too easy to compare him to Marlon Brando with that tight white shirt and all.
Coincidentally, the Irish-born actor plays one of Brando’s signature roles: the brutal but passionate Stanley Kowalski in Tennessee Williams’ groundbreaking play. End station required, in the Almeida Theatre, five minutes’ walk from our breakfast spot. The revival has been on Mescal’s agenda for three years, delayed by Covid and scheduling issues. Early previews merged with extended rehearsals when Lydia Wilson withdrew from the production due to ill health, and she has since been replaced as Blanche DuBois by Patsy Ferran, a frequent collaborator of director Rebecca Frecknall.
Mescal, now in his late twenties, has been on the road to success since the BBC adaptation of Sally Rooney’s novel in 2018 normal people was released on BBC TV and Hulu at the height of the pandemic. Viewers enjoyed the painfully honest relationship drama from the comfort of their couches. The series made Mescal an overnight star, propelled him up the proverbial ladder and won him the TV BAFTA for Lead Actor. This capital was used wisely and launched him into the world of feature films with a small but significant role in Maggie Gyllenhaal’s critically acclaimed directorial debut. The Lost Daughter as the unsuspecting beach barman who pulls the film’s aloof, prickly protagonist (Olivia Colman) out of her shell.
As he prepared to film his next film, God’s creatureswith Emily Watson in Donegal, Ireland that Mescal Wind of Wells’ After sun. His agents, Lara Beach at Curtis Brown and Zach Kaplan of CAA, were drawn to the story of a young divorced father and his teenage daughter vacationing in a Turkish resort. The story, perhaps a distorted memory of a vulnerable father’s breakdown, unfolds through the eyes of the young girl. Mescal pressed to meet Wells, arguing, “Any actor who reads this will want to do it.”
He auditioned for the role of father Calum and then read chemistry to 12-year-old Frankie Corio, who had already been cast as daughter Sophie. It was the real test, he says, because the film “lives or dies” – despite Wells’ “wonderful script and direction” – whether you believe the two actors. Luckily, he and Corio hit it off right away. “She’s wild, wild, like Frankie is wild,” he says, his smile growing wider as he speaks.
As proof, Mescal proudly points to the British Independent Film Awards (aka the BIFAs). After sun won seven awards, including Best British Independent Film and Best Director. At the pre-Christmas awards ceremony in London, Corio’s speech went viral after she playfully pounded Mescal into a room full of industry people and shouted: “I was number one on the call list and he was number two – so he was the co-star and I was was the star!”
Mescal laughs. “I don’t know if I’m very good with children in general, but for some reason I found it easy with Frankie. I can’t explain it other than probably the chemistry between people. And we were happy.”
Asked which poem best fits the film, Mescal cites Thomas Lux’s “My Father Whistle,” which Lux dedicated as “a love poem to my father.” He then recites a line from another poem about a girl teething for the first time. “It’s so tender,” he said softly. But it may be Barry Jenkins, one of the film’s producers through his PASTEL production company, who more succinctly articulated the film’s emotional core. The New York Times as he described Calum, a loving but emotionally ill-equipped young man clearly succumbing to the pressures of parenthood, as “moving through a world of silent fear.”
Mescal nodded in agreement. “I think it’s perfect,” he says. “I don’t think it’s interesting to see someone suffer for 96 or 97 minutes. What I think makes it more effective is seeing them try Not too, and I think Calum really doesn’t want the feelings he has. And you see how he fights against it every day. That’s true for me…” He pauses. “It kills me, you know? It’s like, what’s harder to watch than someone who wants to get better?
The talks are about masculinity, hiding emotions and the ways in which men are often slow to take care of their mental health. “I think it’s very, very modern to talk to someone about their feelings,” he says. “When I told my dad I was going to therapy, he said, ‘What? What’s up with you?’” He laughed. “Because that’s what you do culturally: you go to a therapist when you’re mentally blocked. When I first started spending time in LA, I didn’t really go to therapy. People looked at me like, “Why?” And so I was defensive at first. I said, ‘I’m fine.’ And of course that’s not the point. The point is that the way you take care of your body should be the way you take care…”
your thoughts? Mescal nodded. “You have to. You to have to. I’m very grateful for the time I’m in now and not even 20 years ago where that wasn’t really an option. It wasn’t that it didn’t exist, it just wasn’t really something that people would do. They would just bottle it. And some people can do that and survive and be okay. But some people just can’t.”

He says it’s important that movies are fun After sun exists to stimulate debate on issues that are often pushed aside. “There’s a catharsis in seeing something that makes you feel,” he says, noting that the way Wells’ compelling film deliberately withholds important information from audiences “forces them to think a little more.” .
Moving forward, Mescal would like to take the next step, but he admits it’s a process that scares him. “What makes me nervous is…” He paused. “To be honest, I’d like to be liked and admired for my work, but that’s not why I do it. But I want to know what people think and I’m nervous about the next steps. I don’t just want to make films like After sun for the rest of my life. I know this will be the base, but I want to have my cake and eat it too. There are other things I want to do and try and try. I’m just afraid of being judged for doing it or not doing it, which is ridiculous because I don’t think I’ve ever done a film, play or job that I didn’t have to do. And I don’t see that changing anytime soon.”
Author: Baz Bamigboye
Source: Deadline

Ashley Root is an author and celebrity journalist who writes for The Fashion Vibes. With a keen eye for all things celebrity, Ashley is always up-to-date on the latest gossip and trends in the world of entertainment.