Sienna Miller's renaissance
Sienna Miller's renaissance
Last Updated:
12:01am BST 27/10/2007
In just 18 months, Sienna Miller has starred in seven films. It's time her acting – not her love life – was the story, she tells Benjamin Secher
Watch the trailer for Interview, starring Sienna Miller For a woman named after a shade of brown, Sienna Miller is looking pale.
Not just a celebrity: Sienna MillerTwo small shadows sit beneath her eyes, standing out on her lightly drawn 25-year-old face like smudges of pencil on a sketch. "I'm knackered," she says, sighing. "I need a break."
The night before we meet, she is on the red carpet in Leicester Square, flirting with the flashbulbs at the première of Interview, a nimble two-hander centred around a corrosive, alcohol-fuelled encounter between a talentless, manipulative female celebrity (played by Miller) and a devious journalist (Steve Buscemi).
The day before that, she had put in a 15-hour stretch on the west London set of Hippie Hippie Shake, a period piece about the founders of Oz magazine, in which she will appear as the girlfriend of Richard Neville, the editor of the notorious publication that sparked a landmark obscenity trial in 1971.
This is the seventh feature she has clocked up, back-to-back, in the past 18 months, while also finding time to shoot a number of advertising campaigns and, somewhat bizarrely, open a boutique in west London with her sister, Savannah.
Miller's formidable workload says a lot about the appetites of an industry eager to capitalise on the box-office-boosting media hullabaloo around the latest star. But it also betrays something about Miller herself. Her headlong rush straight out of one role and into the next is not only a symptom of insecurity – in some ways, she acknowledges, a role is "a mask for any vulnerability I might be feeling" – but also of a desire for the kind of professional recognition that has so far eluded her.
She is restlessly in pursuit of the performance that will finally convince people that she is not just a celebrity ("God, I hate that word," she hisses) but a serious, talented, actress. With Interview, she might just have found it.
"I feel like I am unwillingly part of a big celebrity culture that I have absolutely no respect for," she says. One of the most photographed, most pored-over popular figures of recent years – subject to the same scrutiny as the likes of Kate Moss and Amy Winehouse – she's more than part of our fascination with celebrity, I tell her: she is something close to its epitome.
"Please don't say that," she says, breaking the biscuit on her saucer into tiny pieces. "It's so depressing."
Throughout our interview, Miller sits disarmingly close, maintaining eye contact and punctuating her answers with occasional physical contact: a touch on the arm, a fleeting hand on the knee.
Her fingers move constantly – even pulling my tape recorder closer to her to ensure (for her sake or mine?) that it is picking up her every word. The charm she brings to the screen is more dazzling in the flesh, but beneath it lies a determination to be understood for who she really is.
"I am not the person I am perceived to be," she says. "I became famous because of falling in love with someone famous. Things happened in a certain order and I ended up getting press attention long before the film I had met that person on had even come out."
By "that person", she means her one-time fiancé, Jude Law. When she says "the film", she is referring to Alfie, the 2004 remake in which Law starred as the eponymous lothario and Miller landed her first major-league role. Both let her down: Law, by cheating on her with his children's nanny; the film, by being a load of old baloney.
"I don't look back at that time and think, 'God, it was awful.' I mean, I was in love, after all – but it was definitely a bit odd. I remember going home and finding for the first time that there was a photographer outside my flat and I didn't understand how he even knew where I lived.
"It was hard, after that, for me to be seen as something other than a…" She pauses, failing to find a word for the role she has come to assume in the media, as a figure whose trip to the supermarket in an unflattering skirt can end up as a photo spread in a weekly magazine. Since the Law episode, her relationships have become something of a paparazzo phenomenon. Snatched shots of her embracing a fellow British actor – this time Notting Hill star Rhys Ifans – are once again circulating on the day we meet.
"Once they've been formed, people's perceptions are really hard to change," she says. "I've always been an actor first and foremost, but the tabloid media don't want me to be good at that – that's not an interesting story for them."
If that's the case, then they won't be the least bit interested in Interview, a slight but sparky film that boasts Miller's most impressive performance to date. Intense and tautly scripted, the low-budget movie was shot on three handheld cameras over a mere nine consecutive nights by Miller's director and co-star, Steve Buscemi – "so there wasn't really time for me to get paranoid and neurotic about it, like I normally do".
The film is a remake of a 2003 feature by Theo van Gogh, the outspoken Dutch director assassinated in November 2004 by a religious fundamentalist incensed by the depiction of Islam in his controversial short, Submission: Part 1. Although his shocking death will ensure his name is forever associated with religious provocation, Interview brilliantly explores what van Gogh's producer, Gijs van de Westelaken, identifies as the filmmaker's "central and very universal theme: the battles between men and women".
The intimate, claustrophobic, cat-and-mouse dynamic of the new film places an unenviable burden on its cast of two. In the absence of grand effects, or changes of location, its success relies entirely on the force of their performances. Buscemi, his face like an unmade bed, employs his typical downbeat charm as the washed-up political correspondent sent, reluctantly, on his first celebrity assignment. But Miller proves every bit his match as that celebrity, the beautiful but noxious Katya, a woman "more famous for who she sleeps with than anything else".
"I'm aware of the parallels that will be drawn between Katya's situation and mine," says Miller. "But really she is nothing like me. I based my performance on an actress I have come across who is much more like that, very comfortable with the power of being a celebrity and ostentatious to the degree that she can walk into a busy restaurant with her sunglasses on and demand her usual table. I do sort of admire that, but I'd rather chew wasps than become that person."
In December 1981, Miller, the daughter of a US banker and a South African drama teacher, was, almost literally, born into theatre. Her mother went into labour while she was watching a production of The Nutcracker in New York "and refused to leave the theatre until the end of the show, regardless of the fact that her waters had broken".
So perhaps an acting career was inevitable. "Acting is all I remember ever wanting to do, but I don't think I understood exactly what fame was until I experienced it," she admits. "You think it's something it's not. I wanted Martin Scorsese to call me up and ask me to be in his film. I didn't want to be pictured on the cover of Heat magazine coming out of a nightclub looking rough."
The way Miller's career has been going lately, even if Scorsese did ring, it's hard to see how she'd fit him in. Since her debut lead performance in last year's Factory Girl, as Warhol's 1960s muse, Edie Sedgwick, Miller has completed a breathless run of major roles.
They range from Caitlin MacNamara, the long-suffering wife of Welsh poet Dylan Thomas, in next year's The Edge of Love alongside Matthew Rhys and Keira Knightley, to Louise Ferrier in Hippie Hippie Shake (also due in 2008). Ferrier was a radical figure from an era Miller – and, increasingly, modern cinema – seems to idealise as a cultural golden age.
"I ache with a nostalgia for a decade I never knew," she says. "I've always loved the 1960s – how proactive young people were then. Our generation is so coloured by the internet and by celebrity culture. What they were doing in the 1960s came out of an innocence that we've lost. No one knew things weren't possible then; everybody could be absolutely themselves, and Oz magazine was about that generation's right to speak freely."
The film, by British director Beeban Kidron (Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason) with a script by Billy Elliot screenwriter Lee Hall, is exactly the kind of meaty, mid-scale project with which Miller – having batted off a number of far more lucrative romantic leads – is keen to define herself as an actress.
"I'm no longer interested in being in big commercial films," she says. "Out of sheer stubbornness, I've really begun to avoid more mainstream things that probably would have been clever to do commercially.
"But I've realised that when I don't play people who are complex and flawed I get very, very bored, and then lazy, and end up being rubbish. The majority of people seem to want to go to the cinema to see the perfect girl up there on the screen, and I just don't know how to play that any more."
'Interview' (15) is released on Friday.
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