A mum, a wife, a creator. An Artist. That’s how Lara Pulver describes herself. Lara is everyone and everything because she feels she can put her mind to anything.
During our conversation with House of Solo, Lara expressed how eager she is to always learn something, and how important that is to her. To achieve something. To gain something. It was clear that acting and storytelling have always been part of how she sees the world and her place in it.
Mobland was no different. The gangster drama series allowed Lara to embrace the unknown and live in the present, a place where artists can rediscover themselves.
At what point in your life did you realise acting was your calling?
When I was 11, I created a scrapbook, having only performed in one show. Granted, it was the title role in Annie, the musical, but there was something about the rehearsal process, even more so than the performances. It was about exploring, connecting and discovering things that I don’t think I’d ever experienced before. I loved it and wanted more.
When you started acting and chased that pursuit of wanting more, what did you find?
A lot of joy. Some wonderful friendships. Experiencing what that was. But also having this kind of inner faith that a no led to the next yes.
I’ve travelled the world. I’ve been so fortunate to film and work across continents and countries everywhere. I was thinking the other day, actually, that people in our profession sometimes talk about that role which moves the needle — something that changes things up.
I’ve been blessed to have over half a dozen of those. In a career as an actor, I’m really in it for the long haul. There are going to be peaks and troughs, but the peaks have been really delicious.
What is that journey like as an artist, going from a no to a yes?
I think it comes back to what I initially said, where one can be everything and everyone, and yet, if you’re not the version that a creator wants for that particular role, then you’re not right for it.
If you’re down to the last two, I feel like it’s not a question of your ability, your skill or what you bring to the table; it’s purely that they, as an artist, have a vision, just like you. You bring your artistry to the table, and it’s a dream if they marry and you’re on the same page. If not, then that’s not your role for that moment.
But I’ve had instances where I was down to the last two, it was a no, and then I ended up getting the job later as well. So, I just ride that rollercoaster. It’s part of the gig.
Interestingly, so many pals from drama school got out early because they knew their personalities couldn’t ride that type of rollercoaster. I don’t know what it says about me that I do endure it, but I really admire anyone who says, “You know what? That’s not for me.” They don’t want to put themselves through that.
Some days I wish I had more of a schedule and structure in my life. But I also think the pandemic and COVID proved: does anyone really have certainty or structure in their lives? Is it just something that we think we have or try to create?
I could create a timetable for myself in that regard — for a month, a year, five years down the line. But there’s also something really exciting in the uncertainty.
Many actors only start to make a living 10 years into their careers. Sometimes it takes just three or four years, or less, because it’s a world of the unknown. You never know when it’s going to be your turn. When did you realise that you were in this for the long haul and weren’t going to give up on the journey?
I just don’t think there was ever a question of giving up. In 25 years of being in the industry, I’ve never questioned being an actor. I’ve had more moments of thinking, “This is exactly where I’m meant to be.”
There are so many facets to being an artist and where you choose to put your energy that day, or what you choose to write. You could go from poetry to an article, to a novel, to a screenplay. There are so many ways to be creative, to be an artist.
Even as a mum, bringing your creativity into your family. That question has never been in my head: am I going to give this up, or how long am I going to play this out for?
When you’re offered these roles and opportunities, how do you know when a role is really made for you — when it’s exactly the type of character you want to play?
It’s the writing, I think. There’s something special when you read the script for the first time and you know the lines without even having to learn them. It’s so well written. You can just feel it.
There’s a bubble of excitement. There’s a bit of fear. All of that happens the second you read it.
A project that I’ve just done, though, I didn’t get to see the script. Then I met the director and I had that feeling just from talking to him. Being in the room with someone who has vision and experience, the skill and the know-how — that’s so exciting.
I think, coming back to your very first question, “Who is Lara Pulver?” I’m definitely a collaborator. I like being part of an ensemble, but not necessarily only that. I like being one of the collaborative minds involved in creating projects that inspire me.
When you’re reading a script for the first time, or watching a play or show for the first time, how do you draw the distinction between watching as an audience member and watching as an artist who might be interested in becoming involved in that world?
It’s tricky because you feel like you watch everything with such an analytical eye. You know what’s gone on behind the curtain to make that scene happen, or you can hear when a line has had ADR. You notice little things and know certain things that have happened.
But I think extraordinary work makes you sit back and be a regular punter.
A year ago, when I watched Adolescence, it was the first time in a long time I’d felt like an absolute punter, watching a piece of theatre essentially. How often does that happen?
I’ve met Matthew Goode in person. He’s extraordinary in The Offer. It was one of those shows that I came to probably two years after it came out. Extraordinary performances; I was all in. I wasn’t aware of the camera, the cinematography, the cuts, the edit — anything.
When you’re joining a show alongside everyone else from the very first episode, compared with dropping in during the second or third season, do you relish that challenge of unfamiliarity when everyone else already knows the world?
It’s a really interesting question because establishing the tone of any piece is tricky. I love being there from the get-go, where everyone’s in the same boat.
However, there’s confidence when you join something that’s a hit. I remember being there for the table read of Sherlock. There was a sense that everyone was working at the top of their game, and there was this confidence that they had a hit show.
When I joined season two, it felt like we raised the bar even higher. I don’t mean because I joined, but everyone had the confidence of a season behind them and then had the balls to bring every trick out of their toolbox. So, that can be equally as exciting.
But I do think the collaborative nature helps establish things. With Mobland season one, because it’s such an ensemble, it wasn’t until ADR and watching the episodes that I had any clue what Pierce and Helen had been up to.
We all had very separate storylines, and it was wonderful seeing what they’d created and, tonally, where we were all living.
It’s been 10 years since your Laurence Olivier Award for Gypsy. Take me back to that period. What was it like stepping into that role and reviving the show?
That was definitely one that I read. I knew of the show because I remember watching the movie when I was a kid. But it was one that I read and felt that I knew exactly what I wanted to do with it. I was so excited to find out what I didn’t know about it.
I remember the director, Jonathan Kent, when I met him, saying, “Are you ready for the biggest tennis match of your career? Because she will hit hard at you.”
I was like, “Oh, I’m ready.”
When you step up to that, it feels so exciting. There was something so interesting about the arc and the journey of that character because I really felt she needed to go completely under the radar for the first half to three-quarters of the show. I didn’t want there to be any winks or nods to what was coming down the line for the character.
I remember my mother-in-law being there during previews and going to the bathroom. She overheard someone say that they assumed my understudy was on for that performance because the Lara Pulver they’d seen on telly was not the one they were watching in that first act.
To then be recognised, Imelda and I both winning the Oliviers, was the cherry on top. It was such a celebration of the journey we’d gone on together.
There was talk for a second about the show going to Broadway; they were just trying to find the right venue. And Imelda said, “I don’t want to go without Lara,” which was the biggest compliment I could take away from the entire experience.
Her work ethic is extraordinary, and I pride myself on that too. Honouring a role, doing whatever one has to do outside of the show in order to be able to do eight shows a week, because eight shows a week is tough.
I loved the whole journey. I look back on it so fondly. Then to have it filmed for Netflix and NT Live, all that stuff felt like such a bonus. I can’t wait to get back on stage again.
How does stage acting, with its live feedback, contrast with screen acting, where you don’t have access to the audience as they watch the story play out?
Interestingly, it’s the opposite of being laboured, in the sense that it’s really freeing to do eight shows a week because you have control of the character from start to finish for those two and a half hours.
No one’s calling cut. You’re not self-editing in any way. Anything you want to tweak or explore more, you get the opportunity to.
We all wake up different every single day, with a different energy, so you bring that to the show, knowing the parameters within which the show and the character live. But today, you naturally have X going on inside you, or B going on inside you, and you can explore that within the parameters of still honouring and telling the story.
It’s so lovely. Anything that doesn’t quite land one day, you can then explore in the next performance, for example.
The labour, or the arduous part of it, is the discipline. It’s being able to almost schedule your day so that you have the energy, focus and everything you’re being paid to bring at 7 pm, which goes against your circadian rhythm.
I’m one of those people who gets up and is ready to go in the morning. When the sun’s going down, I’m in bed. So, to work that way, that’s the bit that takes discipline for me. Being able to rest. To look after oneself so that you have everything geared up to go at 7 pm.
How has stage discipline shaped your screen acting and the way you handle long shoots?
You end up almost training like an athlete. You can do a 14- to 16-hour day.
Training as a stage actor, you have an awareness of every department. If you’re asking for one more take, you understand what that means for your crew. You’re not asking flippantly.
Being a parent means a 5 am pick-up is nothing because you’ve had a baby waking up at a ridiculous hour. As a woman in her 20s, I was like, “I need to be in bed at 8 or 9 pm, ready for that one.” As a parent, you just get on with it.
I’ve had an ill 18-month-old on my chest at 3 am before an opening night. That’s what today brings you. It gives you this — not resilience, but you surrender more. That’s a gift, to be able to surrender to just what is.
What was it like working on the second season, and what are you most excited about?
Getting a second-season pick-up was such a privilege, so I don’t think any of us took that lightly. There’s definitely a confidence that comes from knowing your character better. In season one, you’re exploring, finding and hoping you’re in the right ballpark.
Sequels often come with an expectation or pressure to deliver. Thankfully, none of us went down that road. I think we leaned into the world even more.
You permit yourself to enjoy every syllable of Jez’s writing. Every gift that Guy allows you. He is so witty and kind of cheeky when he directs. It just feels like you’re all singing from the same hymn sheet. Everyone notches it up a bit.
Jez never gives us scripts that far in advance, so there’s never complacency because you have no idea where you’re going.
You, as an actor, are no further ahead in the character’s journey than the viewer when they watch that episode. I don’t know the trajectory of my character in episode 10 when I’m shooting episode four. You can only be present and tell that part of the story, which I think is really helpful at times.
You’ve described yourself as a mother and a wife, but what is it like playing Bella, a daughter-in-law within the Harrigan family?
To be Pierce Brosnan’s daughter-in-law, to be Helen Mirren’s daughter-in-law…
I found a journal because we moved house recently. When I was at drama school in 1999 and the 2000s, I put a picture of Helen Mirren in the centre of this page, and my goal was to play her daughter because I was a massive Prime Suspect fan.
“I want to play Helen’s daughter.”
I’ve not told her this because it doesn’t feel very cool, and Helen’s very cool.
It’s so fun because the characters don’t get on. Maeve and Bella are like chalk and cheese in their values, what they stand for and their backgrounds.
I think Bella still holds a bit more time and space for Conrad. In some way, those two had a love that had to be broken up. We’ve spoken about this on set: Conrad had many extracurricular activities, and the reason why Bella was married off to Kevin is that Maeve could see there was something between Conrad and Bella that was different.
It’s always been fun to explore even minuscule moments of that in our playing.
Bella is constantly trying to get herself out of her situation and reclaim her own agency. How do you see that challenge for her?
You’re absolutely right. In season one, she always felt like someone’s wife or someone’s daughter-in-law, trying to forge her own path.
Jez has just torn up the script on that in season two, and he’s letting Bella run riot, in the sense that she’s no longer seeking anyone’s approval. She’s sick of waiting for a male counterpart to step up.
So, she is focused on her own path, not just for herself but for her son. It feels very much like, if no one else is going to step up and take care of Eddie, then she will, regardless of the pushback from Conrad and Kevin.
Are there any gangster or mob-related stories that you took inspiration from to help inform your preparation for the character?
The turnaround for season one was really fast. I got the job on the Monday and started on Friday.
I’ve been a fan of Guy’s work, so I have all that catalogue in the back of my head without having to go down a rabbit hole. I probably had the first four episodes to go on when I took the job.
I’ve seen all of Jez’s work on stage, so I have an idea of how complex Jez will allow one to be. How he’ll make space for you to turn on a dime and contradict yourself from one sentence to the next.
What I’ve really enjoyed, more so in season two than season one, is that you think Bella’s this, and then she’s that. She’s forging a path without knowing what the outcome will be.
After season one, she’s got nothing to lose, so she’s thinking, “Fuck it.” That’s been really fun to play with.
There’s a scene in episode two that I’ve not yet seen, with myself and Tom. With every single line, she is flipping from one subject, one context, to another, where you never know what she’s alluding to at times. It’s so fun to play.
What fate is in store for the Harrigan family?
It’s not going to end well. Let’s be honest. It’s going to implode.
How does it implode? I don’t know. That’s in Jez Butterworth’s hands.
But you’ve got such big personalities, such egos — and I’m talking about the characters here, not the actors — and so much at stake.
These are their identities; they’re the Harrigans. They announce themselves at the beginning of season two. Pierce has a line that says, “We’re the Harrigans. If you don’t know who the fuck we are, then Google us.”
They’ve got this arrogance, and they’ve all come from such privileged backgrounds. For Bella, the money has come through her family and her father, and that’s old money. The Harrigans are this new money.
Poor Eddie is such a byproduct of his circumstances and his family. So, it’s going to be tragic, I think.
Credits
Photographer: David Reiss
Styling: Rosie Arkell-palmer
Hair: Lewis Stanford
Make up: Neil Young
