Madder than the March Hare but with all the beauty and charm of Alice, meeting Scottish actress Sophie Kennedy Clark is like falling down the rabbit hole. It’s a quality that legendary artist Jake Chapman must have picked up on when he cast her as the lead role in his directorial debut: The Marriage of Reason and Squalor, a four part series for Sky Arts based on the Turner Prize winning artist’s 2008 novel of the same name. Hypnotic, psychedelic, and widely absurd, Chapman’s dark and twisted wonderland is like no other. Playing the role of Lydia, a beautiful young woman with a very loose grip on reality, the Nymphomaniac actress navigates her way around a strange island gifted to her by her doctor fiancé (played brilliantly by Rhys Ifans.) During these travels, she meets the bulbous-headed, toad-like Helmut, a reclusive author and fellow inhabitant of the island. With a treasure trove of strange experiences of her own to draw from, it’s a role Sophie took to like a sleepy Dormouse takes to tea.
What was it like working with Jake Chapman?
What a man. He’s got the most extraordinary mind and approaches everything like a child. He’s curious and interested and open. It’s not the narrow-minded, indoctrinated way adults approach things. It was his first feature and he was to the manner born. It’s avant-garde to say the least but it’s still relatable.
How would you describe the experience?
It’s crazy but it’s brilliant. You’ve got these absurd characters popping up and saying these strange things. It’s a total mind-bending, magical experience in a world that looks visually delicious.
Why did you gravitate towards acting in the first place?
I’ve always had so little shame that acting seemed like a good avenue to go down. Even in my own life, I’m constantly going on adventures just so I can come back and have a good story. I’ll do anything for a good story. I’m constantly getting myself into ridiculous and sometimes dangerous scenarios just so I can come back and be like, “hey guys, you’re never gong to believe what went down.” I left school when I was 16. I was “creatively misunderstood.”
That old chestnut…
My parents were like, “now that you’ve beaten the education system, what do you plan to do?” and I was like, “I’m going to be an actress and the only place I can go is New York.” I’d never even been to New York; I’d just seen so many movies about it that I was so enamored by the idea of a life there. I was 17; it was the arrogance of youth. I have small dog syndrome where I think I can take on anything. It’s ridiculous and probably untrue but I’ll always give it a go. I ended up going to New York and living with this mad artist woman who was out of her mind and who had two of those hairless cats and had an absolute time of it.
So then what happened?
I came back from New York and decided I needed an agent. I didn’t want to go to drama school and do all that method shit, I’m so instinctual. Because I have no shame, if someone goes, “this is what the character is feeling, can you do this?” I just throw myself into it and if they want it differently then I’ll do it differently. There’s no room for vanity.
What does acting do for you that you can’t find in real life? Is it a sense of escapism?
I don’t think it is escapism. I get to go into the dark and strange little corners of my own mind that I normally can’t, it’s this playground where I can be as weird as possible, and I get to do that on set for people. Every tiny insecurity that I’ve ever felt or any weirdness that I haven’t been able to vocalize–I grew up in Scotland, where everybody keeps it bottled–I get to let it out of my system using someone else’s words and in another character. So you’re safe, no one thinks you’re a freak, although no one takes female actresses seriously until they’re older.
Do you think that’s a problem?
Women put a lot of pressure on other women to look good. You’ll go and see an actress in a film if you like what she wears on the red carpet. People become clotheshorses. My plan is in my twenties–when you’re trying to look your best–I’m going to take roles where I look a bit rough and a bit minging and by the time I’m in my 40s I’m going to pull a Mrs Robinson and look like Julianne Moore. Then people will be like, “God she looks good for her age. She never looked this good when she was younger!”
You don’t strike me as an actress who is desperate to be on magazine covers and take all the beautiful, ethereal girl parts. So what are you hoping for?
I sort of don’t want to be truly known by anyone because I feel like it breaks the barrier. I don’t want to do all the talk shows or have people say, “Isn’t she going out with…?” It’s so unimportant so me. I’m currently in the process of buying the rights to a book and someone said to me, “But you’re a 24-year-old actress.” And I was like, “Mate! How old are you? Do we have to play the age game? Is it about life experience?” I just want to give it a shot. If it fails, it fails. I have a sense that I know how to make a film well, I’m not saying I’ll direct it. I wouldn’t. I just want to make sure the story is mine. You get to curate a world that gets given to other people to create. I don’t have a dream role. I hate when actresses always go, “I’d like to play an edgy girl on the street or a prostitute.”
That’s the drama school dream!
Yeah, like poor little rich girl. I just want to go from curious character to curious character with no real running thread to why they’ve cast me. Whether they want to shave my head or tattoo me – whatever it is – I just want to play lots of different things, because that keeps it interesting.
Credits
Text Tish Weinstock
Photography Amber Grace Dixon