Did you have any idea that Frozen would move to Broadway?
No, and that's all out of my control. But it's a better show here [at Circle in the Square] because there's a bit more breathing room for the audience. They're not under the same pressure, they laugh more, and yet all the performances are bigger. It's more epic now.
When the audience sees how your character attracts his victims, it's absolutely chilling. Just the way you say one simple word, "Hello."
And you know, the guy has only been on stage three or four minutes when he says that word: "Hello." It works because we have all entered into this pretend world. We've basically said, "The next guy who comes in here is a serial murderer." The audience sees him and finds him amusing and then a few minutes later, he says "hello" to this blank space and suddenly the temperature drops. That's the power of theater. We don't need underscoring or bombs going off, just the power of one word and everyone in the audience going with its collective imagination.
Did you realize the power of the play when you read it?
No, I'm not very good at seeing things straight off with plays. I have to see it through the rehearsal process. I found the character interesting because he's not bright and yet he seemed real and the play didn't seem to be glamorizing anything. [He glances at his arm, which his makeup artist has now covered with tattoos] Usually by this time I'm cursing and shouting abuse back here, aren't I, Dee? [His makeup artist smiles and nods; O'Byrne's voice takes on a sinister tone] Once Ralph enters the room, he's not taking any fucking prisoners!
You're scaring me! This part is so harrowing. Does it affect you the rest of the day?
It's not that difficult. Part of the reason is that I get obnoxious when I come in here--I'm foul-mouthed, racist, and homophobic, right Dee? [She smiles] I say the most horrendous things backstage so that when I go onstage, it feels very ordinary to say, "Killing girls; what's the problem?" The people back here have to hear me spew rubbish so that at the end of the night, I can just go home. But the great thing about this character, which is the best single character is that he's very ordinary. The way through this play is to make all three characters as normal as possible.
The situation itself is dramatic enough.
Yes, there's no need to sensationalize the story because the media will do that. You saw the video of that poor girl being taken in Florida, where the guy walked up, took her hand, and walked away? How do you protect against that? You can't. The great thing about this part is that you're able to address certain issues, and the forgiveness aspect of the play is the most fascinating trip of all. [Swoosie Kurtz, playing the mother of one of the victims, visits O'Byrne's character in prison, a searing scene that leads to Frozen's climax.] A friend of mine said he had never seen forgiveness used as a weapon before.
How do you feel about being placed in the featured actor category in the Tonys?
I don't mind. It's out of my hands.
You're instantly a favorite to win, even though this part is obviously a leading role. Did the producers ask your opinion?
Yeah, they talked to me about it. But if you look at The Caretaker, Aidan Gillen is one of three characters in that play. And in The Retreat from Moscow, Ben Chaplin's character is not a supporting role, either. This is what I think about the Tonys: If I can do anything to help these producers make their money back, I'll do it. That's what it's all about. Anyway, the nomination is the thing, no matter what category; there's no such thing as winning best actor. My feeling is that winning acting awards means that you've got a great part. If you're nominated, it means, "Congratulations, you didn't f--- up a very good part." If you win, it means some people think you had a better part than the others who were nominated. Any of the guys in my category could play this part. Hundreds of people in New York could play this part.
You're much too modest.
Absolutely, they could. They might have a slightly different take on it, but this part is written well enough that if you go into a rehearsal room with these two ladies and [director] Doug Hughes, you're going to do well.
Is it an accident that you've played so many intense parts, as in the plays of Martin McDonagh?
I don't actually view the McDonagh stuff as being intense. In the last year, I did a play called Bedbound at the Irish Rep that was much more intense than this one. I played a father who had kept his wife and daughter in a box for 10 years and fed them sandwiches. The Mother has died and the father has killed a co-worker, and he comes back and gets in bed with the daughter. That was the most intense thing I've ever done. Then I went home to Ireland to do a play that Roddy Doyle adapted from his novel The Woman Who Walked Into Doors. It's about a woman who is being beaten by her husband, basically a monologue for the woman, but my part was to continuously appear and just beat the crap out of her. I was booed at every curtain call.
Ay yi yi! Do you ever say, "Enough--I don't want to play these kinds of parts anymore."
Are you kidding me? This is the best part on Broadway! I guarantee you that any actor who comes to see this play say, "I want to play that part." You don't get the chance to scare people on stage very often.
I guess you aren't inviting any potential dates to see these plays.
If I could get a date out of someone seeing this show, I'm not sure I would want to go!
Do you consider New York home?
Yes, I've been living here for 15 years. Most people go to the West Coast for work when they leave New York; I go east to Ireland and Britain.
And you've been able to make a living primarily as a theater actor?
Some people mightn't call it a living, but it's my living and I'm happy with it. I do the occasional movie--I'm going to play a priest in a Clint Eastwood movie soon--and I was supposed to play Mitch [in A Streetcar Named Desire] at the Kennedy Center now. I've managed; I don't own anything, and I don't have any kids, so it's not much of a worry.
Now if only people would learn to pronounce your name.
I've been nominated for quite a few things, and Viola Davis is the first person who has ever gotten it right when she gave me my Obie; I forgot to thank her. Of course they got the accent in the wrong place on the award. The put a dot over the I AND the accent mark.
Aren't you tempted to just pronounce it the American way and be done with it?
But that's not my name! You might as well call me John.