Jasmine Blackborow speaks with the kind of self-awareness that instantly disarms you. There is humour in the way she describes her own career, but beneath it sits something more substantial: a performer deeply committed to transformation, to craft, and to the quiet, cumulative work of building a life in art. For more than a decade, she has moved between stage and screen with remarkable fluidity, slipping into period dramas, contemporary stories, and psychologically rich characters with a subtlety that rarely announces itself loudly, but lingers.
Now, with Legends, The Gentlemen, and Pride and Prejudice arriving in close succession, Blackborow finds herself in a particularly compelling chapter. Yet rather than framing this moment as a sudden breakthrough, she sees it as the result of many small yeses, a steady unfolding shaped by discipline, instinct, and a willingness to keep evolving. That same spirit runs through her work beyond acting too, with her short film Lovely marking a deeply personal step into writing and directing.
In this conversation, Jasmine Blackborow reflects on creative momentum, character transformation, the thrill of returning to worlds like Guy Ritchie’s The Gentlemen, and why storytelling, whether on stage, on screen, or behind the camera, remains rooted in finding the human truth beneath it all.
For readers discovering you for the first time, how would you introduce yourself not just as an actress, but as a creative woman navigating this moment in your career?
Well, if you’re discovering me for the first time, you’re not alone. Absolutely nobody knows who I am, and I take it as the biggest compliment. Even directors don’t recognise me once I’m back in my skivvies at the end of a shoot day. I’ve honestly baffled a few when I’ve been chatting to them, familiar as anything, in the lift or the car park. So, you may have seen me in things and not recognise me. Or, of course, you might not have seen me in anything at all! I’ve been quietly working away on stage and screen for more than a decade, in some things that are low-budget and independent, and some that are big and shiny and shown all around the world. Acting seemed like a career only other people could pursue. The fact that I am still making a living like this surprises me every single day.
Your work moves so fluidly between period drama, contemporary screen projects, theatre, and now writing and directing. Do these different forms feel like separate worlds to you, or part of the same creative language?
Every new project is a separate world because of the people making it and the particular way they want to tell that story. But the way I approach my particular cog in the machine is always the same. Or at least, the approach might be different, but my aim is the same. I just want to find that human, in that place at that time, and live their life for a bit. Writing and directing is similar, only I’m trying to capture people without embodying them, and trying my best to communicate to other people what’s in my head. It’s a creative language I’ve been learning since I was tiny; it’s only as you get older that you realise it’s a bit of a tome.
With Legends, The Gentlemen, and Pride and Prejudice all arriving in close succession, this feels like a particularly exciting chapter. Does it feel like momentum, transformation, or something else entirely?
I don’t believe in big breaks. I never have. Or I’ve had no interest in it as a concept, anyway. A big break just requires one person to say yes. It feels so hinged on luck. Whereas I look back at my career and can see the many, many yeses that have tumbled me along to this point, and I’m so proud of every single one. So grateful to all those people who have brought me here. This is a very exciting time, no doubt about it. It’s nerve-wracking too. Attention is exposed. But it makes no odds to me whether 5 million people are watching on Netflix or just 5 in a black box studio at the Edinburgh Fringe. I will continue to plug away and hope that there are many more yeses to come.
Legends brings together such a distinctive cast. What drew you to the series, and what felt especially compelling about stepping into that world?
I remember watching the first series of The Gold and texting my agent saying, “I WANT TO BE IN THIS”. Tricky when, ya know, it’s a standalone story… But Neil’s writing just blew me away; his quintessentially British way of telling a gritty story with blunt humour, because to me, that’s where truth comes from. Too much out there is humourless, and then I don’t believe it, or can’t truly buy into it. He also manages to never moralise that nothing is black and white. You can root for the “bad guys” as much as the “good guys” because the real world is murky and grey. So when the script came in for Legends… phwoar, I cannot tell you how much I wanted it.
Returning for season two of The Gentlemen means re-entering a universe with such a sharp identity and tone. What do you enjoy most about working within Guy Ritchie’s world?
Oh, just everything. Making The Gentlemen is honestly so. much. fun. I smile all day on set, for so many reasons. Returning to anything is always such a joy because you’re returning to a family, not just the cast, many of the crew stayed the same too, and this lot are truly exceptional. Top of their game, but also top people. This set has taught me a lot about trusting your instinct. I’m a serial over-preparer, but it was clear from day one of season one that it wasn’t going to help. We built the character together as we went. Guy Ritchie is at once collaborative and direct about what he thinks works or doesn’t, and now I have to just trust that I know who she [Charly] is and can respond to whatever is thrown at me. It’s an approach that has taught me to let go and just have faith in what I’m doing (hopefully it’s not misplaced…).
Pride and Prejudice is one of those rare stories that continues to resonate across generations. What does it mean to you to be part of a new adaptation of something so culturally beloved?
I remember starting primary school, I had only just turned 4, and a girl in the playground grabbed my hand and said, “Let’s play Pride and Prejudice!” She must have watched it on the BBC with her mum or her sister. I had no idea what she was on about. She’d gathered all these unsuspecting boys and girls, told us who we all were and who’d be marrying whom. She was Lizzie, obviously. So, to think, 30 years on, here I am playing the same game, only with lots of cameras around, real costumes, and someone’s paying me to do it… the mind boggles.
You can now be seen as Bella Freud in Moss and Freud, which places you inside a world shaped by fashion, family, and cultural legacy. How did you approach portraying someone so distinctive?
Poor Bella… I essentially had to stalk her for a couple of months without her knowing. I watched YouTube videos of her being interviewed, copying every single gesture or vocal intonation. I worked with an incredible voice coach, Louise Jones. I read all of Esther Freud’s novels (her sister’s), which draw greatly on their childhood experiences. Bella was also kind enough to invite me to her home and talk with me, which was a bit of a pinch-me moment. She was unbelievably generous and open, sharing stories about her life and her relationship with her father, which helped me build this much broader picture. But at some point, you just have to let that all go in order for it to be truthful. Acting isn’t imitation; it doesn’t work like that, or not for me anyway. And there will always be a bit of you in there too; you can’t shake that off entirely.
How much do costumes, silhouette, and visual transformation help you unlock a character, especially when the women you play often carry such a strong sense of identity?
Oh, it’s the missing piece of the puzzle for sure! When returning for season two of Marie Antoinette, I was doing all this prep to get back into Lamballe, and something just wasn’t feeling right. I went in for a costume fitting, and the moment they pulled in the laces of my corset, it was an epiphany moment: Oh, here she is! It changes everything: the way you hold yourself, the quality of your voice even. The wigs and hairstyles too, are part of the artistry on that show is jaw-dropping, but it all serves to help you build your character, imagine what they did each morning to look a certain way. Bella’s costumes were like that also; I wore a lot of her own pieces as well as vintage Chloé and Dior. Androgynous silhouettes, but everything silk and cashmere to soften it, make it more feminine, feline, just like Bella. The haircut and the prosthetic mole were game changers too. They all combine to make me feel less self-conscious. I’m not ‘me’ anymore, I’m X, and now I can begin my work.
Odyssey recently premiered at SXSW 2025. What was it like introducing that work to an audience in that setting, and what did the film mean to you personally?
Odyssey is exactly the kind of work I want to do more of. Gerard is an auteur with a very distinct approach. His work is like a lovechild between Mike Leigh and David Lynch. Like Mike Leigh, we had a proper rehearsal period (rehearsals!! For film!! So rare), which involved research (we bamboozled estate agents in Kentish Town) and improvisations. He wants it to be real and authentic, the camera would roll for takes that were like 20 minutes long! But, like Lynch, everything builds in this super-trippy, hyper-real way. Gerrard wants you to find the ugly in people, and I relished that. Too often, I want my character to be liked, but it was so liberating to be encouraged to create someone pretty skin-crawling. And yet you’d all recognise her — she’s probably one of your frenemies, or you follow her on Instagram.
You’ve built such a strong body of work across both stage and screen. What does theatre still give you that camera work never quite can?
Theatre can’t be edited. There is absolutely nowhere to hide. In my eyes, the actors I respect most earn their stripes on the stage. It’s what makes British actors some of the best in the world, I think, and so making space for both has always been incredibly important to me. There is nothing like being in a rehearsal room, the discipline, the time it’s like being back at drama school. For me, theatre is a big reset, a moment to look at yourself, your technique, your stamina, your state of mind and see if you’re really up to it.
Your short film Lovely marks your narrative directorial debut, and it explores family, humour, and emotional complexity. Why was that the story you wanted to tell first from behind the camera?
As an actor, I tell other people’s stories, but after my grandmother died at a relatively young age from a gruelling degenerative illness, it felt like the right time to step behind the camera and tell the story my family had been living for the last decade. I made the film with my cousin, who also works in the industry as a production coordinator. We’d always wanted to do something together, and so making something personal to us was a natural, albeit scary, decision. Only women have been born in our family for 6 generations, so making a film that embraced this knowledge and energy felt inevitable. It’s an all-female cast with women leading key creative roles behind the camera too. It felt important to share our experience in a way that might help other families living in similar circumstances, and although it deals with difficult subject matter, it’s ultimately a very funny and heartwarming film. Sometimes in life, laughter is the only medicine.
Did writing and directing Lovely change the way you think about performance, either your own or the relationship between actor and director?
It was the only thing I was confident about when it came to making the film. The only thing I knew I’d be able to rely on was my ability to communicate with the actors and build the family dynamics I was aiming for. I guess I just tried to be the director I would want to work with. Perhaps I was acting too!
Your roles often carry a kind of quiet depth, women who reveal themselves gradually rather than all at once. Are you consciously drawn to characters with that kind of interior life?
I think I must be! I’ve always been interested in that tension, someone’s inner life versus what they present to the world. It fascinates me how different mediums deal with it too; interiority is easier to access in a novel than in a film, for example, and it’s what we’re always trying to decode in a painting. I’ve always liked the idea of playing around with form more in my work, being a bit more experimental with how to express a character’s inner thoughts.
In an industry that often places so much emphasis on visibility and momentum, what helps you stay creatively grounded and connected to yourself?
Creatively, my friends. I have a couple of close friends who are also actors, directors, or writers, and knowing I have them as a soundboard keeps me sane. Connected to myself well, that’s my family. Making mud potions in the garden with my daughter, going on a stomping hilly walk with my sausage dog, drinking a cider with my husband in the early evening sun, bemoaning the Arsenal results with my parents. And there is absolutely nothing more humbling than dressing up for a fancy premiere, drinking Moët and living the high life, and then doing the nursery run the next morning.
When you think about this next phase as an actress, writer, and director, what feels most important to protect, and what feels most exciting to step toward?
I just want to get better at everything. And that means seizing opportunities, making good choices, and being around exceptional people. Bring it.
