What I've learned: Paddy Considine
Out of 10, what would I give myself as an actor? Nothing. I’m not remotely interested. I mean it.
I don’t give a s**t about any of that stuff. I can’t bear to see myself in anything. I made peace with that a couple of years ago. I went, “Look, man, there’s something you’re doing that people like You can’t see it but don’t deny it.” That’s where I found comfort.
It’s Consi-dine. People call me Consi-deen and I go, “The last four letters. What do they spell? Dine.” I understand how they get it slightly wrong.
I’ve seen a UFO. A few years ago, Boxing Day. I went out to take something to the bins and saw this sphere in the sky. A red sphere. It was just travelling and I watched it. I love all that.
I’m in better shape now than in my thirties. I’m productive, I’m physically fit, I eat better, I look after myself and I sleep like a baby. I turned it all around. I’m like a rocket.
As a kid, I had this idea grown-ups knew everything, that they were wise. Then you’re there yourself in middle age going, “I can’t even do my eight-year-old’s math homework.”
There’s all this stuff about drugs and creativity, but creativity doesn’t need any stimulation of that kind as far as I’m concerned. My physiology can’t tolerate any of that stuff. It can barely tolerate coffee. Sensitive little soul, I am.
The older I got, the more I understood I didn’t have to push myself to the limits to get results. I think there’s a certain letting go of the things that don’t matter. I don’t find anything bad about getting old. It’s all about acceptance.
This world scares me. I don’t know where this is all heading. At the minute, it doesn’t feel like it’s going anywhere good.
We try to turn kids into little adults. Children are told not to be silly and to conduct themselves.
I encourage silliness. You’re a kid. Roll around. Pull the cushions off the sofa. Bang spoons. Whatever you want. Just don’t do it if you’re sitting behind me on a plane.
I don’t have fancy cars. I don’t have a massive house. I don’t strive for those things, either. All right, my wife will say, “You buy too many jackets”, but I don’t have extravagances. If it’s anything, I’ll work and then I’ll go, “Right, we’re going on a massive holiday.” That’s well-earned, I think. Those things are important to me, to sit and see my kids in the ocean and think, “That’s the fruits of my labour”.
Pinocchio was the first film I saw at the cinema. The bit about the kids and the island, turning them into donkeys and all that, I thought was terrifying but also amazing. It was other-worldly. Pure escape. I used to watch everything at the cinema, right through my teens, but not so much anymore.
I get annoyed when my ego takes over and stops me doing stuff, when that little voice gets in and disrupts my day. The first time I did a play, my ego was telling me I was going to be humiliated, I was incapable of doing it, I’d have a breakdown. That voice has sometimes controlled many a decision but it’s my job to go out and face that ego and smash it. It’s just fear.
When I was, like, 13, a soldier punched me. He was about 30. A bloke! He picked on me because I was the weakest guy in the room and my name was Paddy and he’d been to Northern Ireland. It was at a house party. He kicked off about someone wrecking the bathroom and thought he’d hit me, but I dodged and took it on top of the head and then stood there in front of him. He looked ridiculous. What a warrior! I was upset after because I was only a little boy.
We’re human beings and if we can afford ourselves and others just a bit of love and decency it’ll go a long way. It’s quite simple. We complicate it with all this other bulls**t.