David Oyelowo, 42, was born in Oxford to Nigerian parents and graduated from Lamda. He became the first black actor to portray an English monarch for the RSC and got his screen break in the BBC spy drama Spooks. Now based in LA with his family, he was nominated for a Golden Globe for his portrayal of Martin Luther King Jr in Selma. This Christmas, he stars as Javert in the BBC’s six-part adaptation of Les Misérables.
Were you a fan of Les Misérables?
My only relationship with the story had been the film, so when I was approached about Javert, my mind went to a boo-hiss villain. I was initially trepidatious about playing that kind of one-dimensional character over six hours of television, but that concern was quickly alleviated by reading Andrew Davies’s adaptation, which is much more layered. Then when I read Victor Hugo’s book, I was bowled over by how well Andrew had captured it.
Aren’t there similarities between Javert and his nemesis, Valjean?
That’s exactly how I see it and that’s certainly alluded to in the novel. In some ways, Valjean represents what Javert could have been. Javert was born in prison to criminals but has chosen the opposite path. You can argue there’s an element of self-hatred there.
In your version, there’s also some beard rivalry between them.
Well, yeah. And Javert seems obsessed with how strong Valjean is. I feel like they had an arm wrestle at some point and Valjean won.
How was it working with Dominic West, who plays Valjean?
We’re both ambassadors for the Prince’s Trust so we’d met before, mostly at Buckingham Palace. So it was completely antithetical to meet again amid the mud, blood and sweat of the prison hulks. Dominic’s a phenomenal choice for the role and a great guy. You have to like and trust each other to be that nasty. We spend a lot of time glowering at each other but there are many outtakes of us cracking into giggles.
It’s a dramatic version, not a musical one, but could you burst into song if you had to?
I like a good warble. I’ve done musicals in the past and intend to do them in future. But here I hope viewers get swept away by the epic storytelling, rather than missing the tunes.
Might people criticise the colour-blind casting as “typical BBC political correctness”?
You can’t please everyone. Some people will applaud the way we’ve chosen to tell the story. Everyone else can go and read the book.
You get to wear a lot of period hats, too.
There’s a whole bunch of hat work. I was nervous about the Napoleonic one I wear in the later episodes. That’s a difficult hat to pull off. A bit like wearing one of those paper boats you’d make at primary school.
You’ve just finished shooting a film called Come Away. Tell us about that.
There’s more hat-work in that, actually. I had a very period summer – parked myself in the 19th century and stayed there. It’s a reimagined origin story of Alice in Wonderland and Peter Pan, with them conceived as brother and sister. Angelina Jolie and I play their parents. We suffer a tragedy and our children use their rich imaginations to try and pull us out of despair.
Weren’t you already friends with Angelina Jolie via children’s playdates?
She’s got six kids, I’ve got four, and they’ve got together in the past to wreak havoc. I’m a producer on Come Away and really had seen Angie mostly as a mother because that had been my interaction with her. I asked her if she’d like to do it and she relished the prospect. She’d never actually played a mother who interacts with her children on screen before. We had a blast.
You starred in crime caper Gringo earlier this year. Apparently you made co-star Charlize Theron pee herself?
That’s going to be my claim to fame. I’ve never actually seen that happen before – someone literally pee themselves from laughing. It was extraordinary. Lovely Charlize. I’m sure she’s very happy we’re discussing this!
You’re British-American-African. Which is worse from your viewpoint, Brexit or Trump?
Gosh, they’re both quite egregious in my opinion. At least I don’t have to choose where I live because both places are pretty challenging.
The first thing many of us saw you in was Spooks – do you have fond memories?
Very. We all stay in touch. I just reached out to Keeley [Hawes] because I loved Bodyguard. I recently did Othello in New York and Matthew [Macfadyen] came to see me. It’s where my screen career started and those guys are part of a formative time in my life. We were in our 20s, not long out of drama school, and had an illegal amount of fun doing that show.
You once said you won’t play “the black best friend” or do superhero movies. Do you still have rules about the roles you take?
I try to stay away from anything that feels obvious. I don’t want to do anything derivative, cliched or stereotypical because images are political. They inform how people view people like me. My other rule is not to do anything that flies in the face of how I’m raising my kids. I’ll do things that are dark in tone but I gravitate towards things that have redemptive, life-affirming qualities.
There’s often talk of who’ll be the first black James Bond but technically you were first, right?
I don’t think it’s fair to count an audiobook! That doesn’t quite give me the right to stake a claim. But to me, all that conversation signifies is that the audience is ready to see different kinds of people in those roles. We’re seeing that with our Les Mis, with Black Panther, with all sorts of things. The gatekeepers have had the keys taken away and they’re firmly in the hands of viewers now. It’s an exciting time with different voices emerging.
After Martin Luther King, are there any other historical figures on your bucket list to play?
I’m going to do a film about the boxer Sugar Ray Robinson – the best pound-for-pound fighter who ever lived. I’ve been fascinated by him for a long time.
Do you get a break over Christmas?
I do, although I’m also directing my first film next April, a coming-of-age story called The Water Man, so I’ll be sneaking off to do some prep for that and hoping my wife doesn’t get annoyed with me.
Les Misérables starts on BBC1 at 9pm on Sunday 30 December
