You might know Joe Cole as a Brummie, from Peaky Blinders, where he played John Shelby, the much-loved gangster kid brother to Cillian Murphy’s Tommy. Or maybe as a Manc, from the Hang the DJ episode of Black Mirror, in which true love was shown to triumph in an age of algorithm-sanctioned pairings. Or, if you catch him in his latest film, A Prayer Before Dawn, where he’s a Liverpudlian boxer turned Thai prisoner turned Muay Thai fighter, using mostly non- verbal gestures to ask to fight or to plead for drugs.
“I’ve not done my own accent in years,” says Cole, 29, his own voice deep, slightly gruff, with a south London twang. Last night, he was watching the World Cup with mates in a bar near where he lives now, in Brixton, but today we’re in a Hitchcock-themed hotel on the outskirts of the capital, drinking in the bucolic surroundings of Epping Forest. He’s on a rare break from filming, having been working almost solidly since he chucked in his old job of selling carpets. Apart from the football, he’s been going to auditions, but there can’t be many accents left for him to tick off. Scottish? “I just went in for Scottish the other day,” he smiles.
Cole has become one of those actors whose presence is usually an indication of quality, particularly on TV, though A Prayer Before Dawn, which called for a complete transformation and total immersion in a tough, violent world, could do for his big screen career what Bronson did for Tom Hardy. He was raised in Kingston-upon-Thames, the oldest brother of five (three of the five are now actors).
“I was a bit of a wind-up, a joker,” he remembers, but puts it down to growing up in a busy house. “And my mum used to look after kids after school, so there were always at least 10 people in the house. Always.” Recently, he moved into a one-bedroom flat on his own, for the first time in his life, but the isolation didn’t stick. “I quickly realised it wasn’t for me. I love my own company, but not permanently. I’m used to a house of people coming and going. I don’t think I ever remember being on my own in the house.” Now, he lives in a houseshare with friends, and one of his brothers.
He started acting at school, where one particular teacher – “an inspiring, amazing teacher, Miss O’Shea” – made drama seem like fun. “Our school didn’t have as much money as the surrounding schools, but her and the music teacher would go out of their way to make these productions better than they should have been,” he recalls. Up until his GCSEs, he was a high achiever, top set, and found it all easy, but when A-levels came around, he started to falter. “When I actually had to put in some work, I realised I was middle of the pack, and for me that wasn’t enough, so I didn’t do any work, messed about, went out, and it wasn’t going to plan.” He calls his later teenage years “tricky”. “I had a bit of a bad break-up, I didn’t get into university, I felt very sorry for myself,” he laughs. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have, but I did. I got arrested. I was just getting up to nonsense, really.”
He went back to school, in his brother’s year, and retook his exams, after realising that his current life as a carpet salesman wasn’t quite right. “I mean this with no disrespect at all, but it wasn’t for me.” Then he applied to the National Youth Theatre – and got in. Cole puts a lot of his success down to self-belief and optimism, to a certainty that, once he’d decided he was going to be an actor, he was passionate enough to do the work he needed to do to make it happen.
“I remember watching Skins when I was at college, when I was fucking around and fucking my life up, and I was watching Skins, like, I could be there. I’ve got more fire in my belly, I’ve got more to say, and I reckon I could go and do that. And that was my mindset.” It didn’t take long for it to come to fruition. One of his first breakout roles was as Luke, a drug-dealing bad boy, in series six of Skins. “To see me come out of the other side of that and flourish was just a relief for my mum,” he explains.
Given that he’s got an angelic sort of face, with long eyelashes and plump lips, it’s perhaps surprising he’s cast as a rogue as often as he is. But Cole has a long line in bad boys and hard men, from an early role in Offender, set against the backdrop of the 2011 London riots, to the short film Slap, in which he played a cross-dressing boxer.
Then, of course, there was John Shelby, the baby Peaky Blinder, who met a gangster’s fate at the beginning of series five. The show has been a bona fide hit and, as well as winning awards all over the place, it’s set a fashion precedent, unlocking many men’s desire to look like a 1920s criminal. “The haircuts?” he smiles. “People absolutely love it, it’s amazing. With television, people respond in a different way, it’s crazy. I have some friends who’ve done big films and stuff, but the love for Peaky Blinders just completely takes over from that.”
It was Cole who decided to step away from the show, despite its huge success. “We started shooting in 2012, so it’s five series, but it’s gone on for six years. I’ve had a great run and loved every minute, but I’m trying to push on, to do new things and challenge myself. For me it was definitely the right time.” He says that people were so gutted by John’s exit, they still come up to him in the street, “crying and stuff, which is mad. What more can you ask for as an actor, if people respond to your work like that?”
He was pleased to get the part of Frank in Black Mirror almost as soon as he’d decided to leave Peaky (as he calls it) because it showed what he already knew – that he had the range to play a romantic lead as well as a tough guy. But he’s returning to the hard stuff for A Prayer Before Dawn. It’s an adaptation of a memoir by Billy Moore. He was locked up in a brutal Thai prison for three years and found a kind of salvation in prison-sanctioned Muay Thai fighting.
Shot over three months, somewhere north of Bangkok, it’s distressing, clammy and harrowing, and almost entirely mute; many scenes were improvised, and the language barrier, deliberately maintained between Cole and the Thai cast, prevented a lot of talking. Instead, much of the communication is done through fists and feet.
“I was ready to put myself on the line, and spar for real and fight, and get the shit kicked out of me, and deliver a few kickings as well,” Cole says. “I was ready to go there, and I’m not sure everybody would go there, even if they say they would. I’d like a few of the lads to prove me wrong, but we’ll see.” He’s sporty anyway, so enjoyed the Muay Thai training and getting ripped for the part. “It was simple, but regimented. Train every day, eat the same food, a couple of press-ups.” Just two? “I did two press-ups. Amazing, right? One at the beginning of the shoot and one right at the end,” he says. “I should get in touch with Men’s Health.”
Cole says he’s not one for “method” acting – he does disdainful inverted commas with his fingers when he says the word – but admits he found it difficult to shake this one.
“It was long, heavy hard days with a lot of fighting every single day. I remember getting on the plane and feeling very emotional. Sounds a bit naff, but I did. It’s the first job I did where I’ve felt emotional afterwards. I thought, even if this turns out to be a pile of shite, it’s been one hell of a ride. We all felt we were making something special.”
He applies the same kind of logic to his career so far. “Listen, the rug could be pulled out at any time,” he says, an apt metaphor for a former carpet salesman, “so let’s not get ahead of ourselves. But even if I had to quit tomorrow, I’m pretty happy. I am content. And I think mainly I’m content because of this film.” Still, that’s not to say he’s ready to coast. He’s been working on his own scripts, and has a couple of writing projects on the go that he’s quietly confident about. And he’s about to star in Channel 4’s new drama Pure, in which he’ll play a recovering porn addict – and he’s doing close to his own accent in this one…
On Twitter, Cole’s handle is “theotherjoecole”, but you get the sense any mix-ups between him and his footballing namesake will be happening less and less. Though he says the postman still seems disappointed. “‘Oh my God, I thought you were gonna be famous. I thought you were gonna be the footballer,’” he mimics, grinning. “Nah, not me mate. Just a regular Joe.”
A Prayer Before Dawn is in cinemas from 20 July
