At 46, Hartnett has a squinty-eyed handsomeness that is undiminished (and his biceps, enhanced for the role, are frankly ridiculous), but he moves through the world with more ease now. In a room at the Crosby St Hotel, in the SoHo neighbourhood of Manhattan, he accessorised his grey pants and grey shirt with an extravagant beaded necklace, a gift from his kids.
His roles in last year’s Oppenheimer, and the most recent seasons of Black Mirror and The Bear, have reintroduced him to the public. He minds the spotlight less this time.
“It wasn’t comfortable when I was 20; now it feels completely different,” he said. “I know that it’s work and it’s not about defining myself to the world, because I’ve defined myself to my kids and my family. And that’s enough.”
Over coffee, Hartnett discussed fatherhood, psychopathy and the particular arc of his career. These are edited excerpts from the conversation.
Q: You began starring in movies at 20, without ever having really studied acting.
A: I’m not going to pretend I knew anything about what I was doing. But I didn’t know any different. I assumed that was the way it was: you were found at the drugstore, then you were a star. And I met other actors at that time who were on a similar trajectory. I was also celebrated by directors for being green. They liked that I didn’t know exactly what the craft was. It was actually an asset to them. I was being coached by the experience itself. I knew I had a lot to learn.
Q: What did you learn? When did you stop cruising on instinct and charisma?
A: I never thought I was cruising. I was always trying to figure it out. I was not a stupid kid. I knew these films were going to be widely received. I wanted to be good. I was a huge film lover. I worked at a video store, so I saw everything. And I wanted to try to emulate the people that I really liked in the movies that I loved. This is going to sound really pretentious, but French new wave films or [Federico] Fellini films or [Bernardo] Bertolucci films.
Q: Early on, you moved between independent movies and studio films pretty nimbly.
A: I was spoiled rotten, at a very young age, by directors that had a lot of clout or were working on films that were small enough that people didn’t tell them what to do, so they were able to make singular films. Sofia Coppola was able to make her vision in The Virgin Suicides very completely and wonderfully, Robert Rodriguez had the power to make exactly what he wanted on The Faculty. Tim Blake Nelson, what he did on “O,” he was very much in charge of that scenario. Ridley Scott on Black Hawk Down, I really enjoyed it.
Q: And then in your mid-20s, there are already articles about you stepping back. Why?
A: I decided not to do big studio fare and focus more on independent films. I wanted to cut my teeth in the way that I thought was more in line with my understanding of what a good film would be. To journalists at the time that looked like stepping away from the brass ring. Why would I do that? The press was severe. It was like I was crazy. That became the dominant narrative.
Q: Stepping away actually sounds pretty sane. I can’t imagine dealing with that much fame that young, while you’re still discovering who you are.
A: I have kids, and I think about how much they’re forming themselves every day. I felt like an adult at that age, but really, your brain isn’t even fully formed. You’re trying to take in the world’s opinions of you and register that within yourself. I needed space to just be me.
Q: Did becoming a father affect the arc of your career?
A: I spend a lot more time at home. I don’t choose to do something unless it feels like it’s really going to be worth it.
Q: Cooper is a father. In many ways a good one. Did you bring your own experience of fatherhood to the role?
A: Probably not. The father aspect is a put-on; it’s a mask. I suppose because he is free from the judgment of others, he’s allowed to do exactly what he feels is right for his kids. So that’s inspirational. But you don’t want to take any cues for sure. I doubt Night would have chosen me if I didn’t have kids. That was necessary. He loves the fact that I have three girls and he has three girls. This movie was born out of something in his relationship with his daughters.
Q: Who is Cooper?
A damaged sociopath who kills people and is also living this second life in suburbia, as seemingly a very loving dad and husband. He’s a firefighter. He saves people. So he has this alternate persona as this hero. His darkness has never come in contact with this other side until this day. What I loved about this, which is so twisted, is it’s a serial killer learning that he’s not entirely a monster.
Q: What did you do to get inside the character?
A: Well, there were things that were referenced in the script. He’s very strong, so I gained some weight, some muscle. And then writing out what I thought he was feeling and thinking and not trying to make him “other”. Because I wanted people to recognise something of themselves in him. It is an extraordinary version of ourselves, because we all have masks, and we all have things that we don’t present to the world that are very deep parts of us. Necessarily. Otherwise you’d have a lot of people crying in the office.
Q: Were you playing two roles or one?
A: One role with a really good mask. He’s probably a really good dad and a really good husband and a really good firefighter.
Q: And a really good killer.
A: He might be!
This article originally appeared in The New York Times.
Written by: Alexis Soloski
Photographs by: David Billet
©2024 THE NEW YORK TIMES
