KEY POINTS:
Last Monday Sir Ian McKellen was on the telly in his star turn in Extras. "I said to Peter Jackson, 'you do know I'm not really a wizard?"' he said, to Ricky Gervais' character.
Now here he is in Melbourne where, the next night, I will watch his King Lear strip away the layers until he stands naked and tormented before us. His Lear got a standing ovation and he put his hand over his heart as he took his bow. Now, I do know he is not really a king but for 3 1/2 hours I believed he was. That's the confusing, wonderful magic of acting.
His Lear, and in almost everything written about it this is mentioned with varying degrees of rude innuendo, gets his pants off. This seems to be some big deal, but it's not, he sighs, to him.
"It says more about the press than it does about the actors and the play. As I keep saying, it's not me who takes my clothes off, it's King Lear who takes his clothes off. I don't care one way or the other, but King Lear certainly takes his clothes off. That's what Shakespeare's intention is."
Still, and he would no doubt say this says much more about my being a prude than anything else, I'm rather glad I interviewed him before I saw that other geezer, Lear, take his clothes off.
What a good actor he is. Of course, I already knew this. And I had already guessed that he would be charming without overdoing it and that he would be chatty, without being revealing. He saves that for the stage.
In Melbourne he was bumped off morning TV because the state premier, Steve Bracks, resigned suddenly. McKellen was very gracious about this and, never one to let a Shakespearean parallel go by, said, after being introduced by Bracks at the opening night after-match: "The ex-king follows the ex-premier."
Earlier in the day he walked into a room full of media and arty people clutching his head for his entrance.
"Did I?" he says later when I mention it. Presumably he was doing it for some acty moment he had now forgotten.
He is terrifically good at acting, as I say, and what he did in the interview was act at pretending he'd never said things (or walked into a room holding his head.)
Fortunately he is, whoever he's being, genial and charming. You can see why he gets on with New Zealanders, he's so accomplished at appearing to be laid back that he's difficult to interview. He likes a chat, although only really about two things: acting and gay issues.
As I go he says: "Lovely to see you and I'm very, very, very glad you came over. That's terrific." I don't think he's quite that glad. One very, perhaps, and that was sweet, but three? That's acting.
It could, of course, have been that he was very, very, very glad to get rid of me. Although he would never have shown it.
Because he is used to New Zealanders I thought he'd be used to our ways, which involve a bit of cheek, even when one is a grand Shakespearean actor. But is he grand? I couldn't quite make up my mind. He looks rather grand, in a wizardly way, with his Lear beard and his expansive gestures.
He has often maintained that he is not a star, although in response to being told he had maintained such a thing, he says, "Have I?" He did a wonderful soliloquy for an Observer journalist on this very topic and nobody would have the gall, or the wit, to make such a thing up.
And he has said he can't be a star because otherwise he would never have got his guest role on Coronation Street. He broke three chairs on the set, including one in Emily Bishop's house which had been around since the programme started. He broke a national relic. "I know!"
Should anyone ever ask him about this again he'll probably deny it. To anything I say he has said, he says "have I?" or "you keep saying that. I don't believe you".
I don't believe he doesn't believe me any more than he's actually denying having said such innocuous things. It's a sort of toying. Also, it does use up time and he gets to avoid saying anything that could be taken personally, heaven forbid. And the subject of starriness might, conceivably, lead him into saying something about himself.
And yet we know quite intimate things about him, about his being gay. That he still regrets that his parents died before he could tell them, for example. But he doesn't like to talk about - or write about on his website, which serves as autobiography - the sorts of things you might find in autobiographical accounts. I wondered how revealing he thought his website was and he says: "Aah, well, it's more revealing than most autobiographies. I mean most autobiographies spend their time, aah, covering up, don't they? I've nothing I really want to get off my chest now."
He means the autobiographies of other actors and what he's interested in is "how they work, and why they work, how they came to be an actor, what it is that keeps them going". He is not at all interested in "their taste in food, their taste in houses, their politics". But people like to know what other people's house are like. "Well, they may want to know but I'm not interested in telling them about my house."
Perhaps because this could be more revealing than anything? "It might be. But my point is, I wouldn't be writing an autobiography to reveal. I'd be writing an autobiography to talk about the career."
So we will never know whether he has horrible taste in curtains? "Whether I have or haven't ... and what is taste anyway? No, I think my ego is not limitless, ha! I only really want to draw attention to what I am an expert in and I am an expert in two things: one is being an actor and one is being a gay man.
"Because I am gay, I have something to say about being gay which is worth listening to because it is me, it is what I am. But I don't have any special ability with regard to, or insights with regard to, politics or the peace movement or vegetarianism or climbing mountains or any of the other things I enjoy."
Does he climb mountains? "I walk mountains."
I'd read that he'd recently joked he was "two years away from collapsing into old age", so walking mountains, at 68, is good going. He says, "you keep saying that but I don't believe it".
"It's a quote. From you."
"You can't believe everything you read in the press. Or on my website. Ha ha ha. Yes, you can."
But I'm going on about this non-existent impending collapse because of the things people write about playing Lear. It's a wonder anybody plays it at all. It is called the burden every great Shakespearian actor must take on; it is the swansong.
"Well, I don't know about that! But it does take a lot out of you. I think it's thought to be a climactic event because the experience of King Lear can be overwhelming. This is not physically a tiring part; it's tiring emotionally and mentally. It's because the audience have this great experience that they assume the actor's having it as well and it's likely that the person playing King Lear is an actor who has been around for quite a long time. They bring memories of other stuff they've done so it seems to be an event."
He tells a lovely story about an event: meeting Sir Ed Hillary. "One of the great thrills. He seemed almost as thrilled to be sitting next to the actor who played Gandalf. And I said to him,'back in the Lake District where I visit, they sell something called Kendal Mint Cake and some of it is called Everest Mint Cake'. And I said, 'is it true that you took some Kendal Mint Cake with you on expedition?' And he said, 'do you know, I do believe Tensing and I had a bite of mint cake quite close to the top'. And I thought, 'the old bugger, he says that to everyone'. You know, he gives them what they want to hear. I said, 'aah! Was it white mint cake or brown?' He said, 'it was brown.' But he came back like that, click! I knew he wasn't lying. 'I do believe Tensing and I had a piece of mint cake quite close to the top.' Isn't that thrilling?"
It is quite thrilling, and it is a story about somebody else. That is what actors do, tell other people's stories and a story about Sir Ed from Sir Ian is worth hearing.
When I say he seems to have a real affection for our place, he says, "well, when New Zealand put me on the stamp, how could I not be in love?"
And I think, let's see how grand he is, how much a star. So, "excuse me, Sir Ian", I say, "I believe that was Gandalf on the stamp and not you at all."
He lets out a great shout of laughter and says, "very good point! Very good point. You are quite right. It was Gandalf on the stamp, yes, very good. New Zealand has got its head screwed on. Well, I hope people haven't forgotten Gandalf."
Which could be construed as the old bugger giving me what I want to hear. But he meant it. He doesn't act all the time.
* The Royal Shakespeare Company's production of King Lear is at the Westpac St James Theatre, Wellington, on August 11 and 12, and at the ASB Theatre, Aotea Centre, August 18-25.
* The Seagull is at the Westpac St James Theatre, Wellington, August 13-14 and at the ASB Theatre, Aotea Centre from August 19-26.
