In 1811, a then-unknown Jane Austen published her debut novel and single-handedly altered the course of 19th-century literature. Sense and Sensibility created space for the consequences of repressed emotions to come to fruition and offered an alternative to the fairy-tale romances that dominated the period. A timeless story of head versus heart, this fall sees George MacKay and Daisy Edgar-Jones take on Edward Ferrars and Elinor Dashwood in Georgia Oakley’s screen adaptation.

A rite of passage for Britain’s most lauded actors, MacKay’s entry into the Austen-verse sees him bring to life perhaps Austen’s most understated hero, articulating the restraint and quiet yearning which set him apart from the likes of Mr Darcy or Captain Wentworth. Opposite Léa Seydoux, MacKay played a very different kind of man in Bertrand Bonello’s Henry James-inspired The Beast [La Bête]. In this genre-bending universe, MacKay morphed from an aristocratic gentleman to an Elliot Rodger-inspired serial killer across a generational time-space continuum. On set, Seydoux experienced first-hand the immersive magnetism that has earned MacKay one of this generation’s most diverse repertoires.

Léa Seydoux: Bonjour.
George MacKay: Bonjour, Léa.

LS: How have you been? Have you been working?
GM: Not for a wee while, actually. I was working at the beginning of the year, and then I’ve been home. But you know, somehow home is sometimes busier than work, with the kids.

LS: Yes, you rest when you work.
GM: Exactly, I remember you saying that on La Bête. How about you – have you been working?

LS: I’ve been working. It’s been a while [since we spoke]. I mean, I gave birth…
George: Casually. [both laugh]

LS: And then I did four films. I finished the last one before Cannes. So I didn’t stop. Tell me about your new film, Sense and Sensibility.
GM: Yes, I saw it the other day and I’m really happy with it. It’s beautiful, I think it’s really lovely.

LS: I want to know about this movie. Tell me the story.
GM: It’s about two sisters, well, three sisters, but mainly two, Elinor and Marianne. They’re both full of feeling, but one lives totally in her feelings, totally emotional, totally impulsive, and she’s ‘sensibility’. The other one is ‘sense’, she masters her feeling, she’s pragmatic, she’s kind of head, where the other one’s heart. Then, at the beginning – it’s set in the late 1700s – their father dies and their house gets given to their brother, and he’s basically going to take over the home, and they’re going to lose it, unless one of them finds a marriage so that they can have money, basically, and keep the house going. Then when the brother comes to move in and chuck them out, his wife is pretty horrible, and then her brother, Edward, comes to stay, who I play, who is this kind of nice, solid bloke. He and Elinor, the pragmatic one, fall deeply in love, and they have this summer… It’s 1700, so nothing’s said, nothing kind of happens, but it’s all implied and desired that they will get married. Then he just disappears. He says, “I’ve got to go to London on business,” and he just never writes back. Then they have to move to a much smaller home in a different part of the country, where the other sister, Marianne, meets – just by chance – this absolute dream of a man. He’s kind of crazy like her, full of feeling, they have this passionate meeting, and it looks like they will get married. All the while, there’s a third bloke, who’s seemingly quite serious, and in Marianne’s mind, sort of boring. He’s around them as well, and he quietly has feelings for Marianne too. Then Edward finally gets back in touch and comes back into the picture, and he basically says, “I can’t say that I love you, but I love you, but I didn’t tell you that I’m actually engaged to someone else.” He got engaged to this woman for moral reasons to help her with money, but he now doesn’t know what to do about it, because he wants to be with Elinor, but morally they’re both such good people that they think, “Well, we can’t break up the marriage for ourselves; we’ve got to do the right thing.” And then Marianne, the other sister, is left by the sort of sexy, passionate bloke, and in turn falls in love with the quiet one. Finally, at the end, the girl who I was engaged to realises that I’m no longer owed my family’s fortune, she gets with my brother, which then allows me to get with Elinor, so everything works out. It’s basically a romantic comedy all about desire and the things that you allow yourself to do, or society allows you to do, and morality and love and choices. But at the core of it, it’s about sisterhood, and these two different types of people who, over the course of the story, borrow and learn from what the other one has. The director is Georgia Oakley, who did this beautiful British independent film called Blue Jean, which was a lesbian story set in the 80s. It’s so gorgeous, it’s really, really beautiful. When I read the script [for Sense and Sensibility], I just thought it was so funny and fantastic, and then when it was Georgia doing it – no pun intended – the sensibility of her first film, although it’s worlds apart, somehow it just all made sense.

“I’ve had a few projects where I’ve discussed with the director, “I know that this is you and I know that you see that in me.” Then you get close because you might share that thing that they’re trying to portray or figure out.”

LS: How is it for you to be directed by a woman? Is it different, or do you not see a difference?
GM: Not so much, really. It feels like people are just people. I feel like Bertrand [Bonello, director of The Beast] is such a different person to Georgia, and Georgia is such a different person to Justin [Kurzel, director of True History of the Kelly Gang], who’s a different person to Sam [Mendes, director of 1917], who’s a different person to Rachel [Hirons, director of A Guide to Second Date Sex]. Really, it’s an energy thing. Do you find there’s a difference?

LS: I see the difference; it’s more in the gaze. When I’m directed by men, it’s more like I become a bit more of an object of desire. When I’m directed by women, it’s more like an alter ego. I feel that I’m playing the director’s…
GM: Not a version of them, but there’s something.

LS: Exactly.
GM: I’ve had that a few times with directors as well, where I feel like I’m playing a facet of them. There’s always an interesting process where there’s a sort of coming together, where at some point you demand it to be yourself a little bit, or you have to understand the person to meet in the middle. I’ve had a few projects where I’ve discussed with the director, “I know that this is you and I know that you see that in me.” Then you get close because you might share that thing that they’re trying to portray or figure out, and then other times you go, “I’m not like that, but I understand what it is,” or, “This is my version of that.” Even in The Beast, I knew that it was Bertrand at times. But I think it’s maybe something quite normal when you are a director and you have a male actor – you identify more. When you write it as well. I guess everyone either consciously or subconsciously, is expressing something of themselves.

LS: What was the movie that you shot in Rome?
GM: That was Tom Ford’s film, Cry to Heaven.

LS: Ah, yes. How was this?
George: Great. It was such a wonderful character. There was so much to him, and there was so much to get my teeth into. There was a lot of depth to the character – what he goes through and who he is. There were also a lot of practical things to learn. We did tonnes of singing and gained an understanding of a certain strand of classical music. Then just to work with someone like Tom, who’s so clear in his vision. It was impressive to be around him, to see that clarity and to feel like you’re part of facilitating that. It was my first job since having a family where I was away on my own again, which, of course, I missed them. It was definitely a new thing and part of that experience. My family came for a little bit, but mostly I went back to see them on the weekends. I feel like so much of the last few years has been learning to beautifully kind of juggle [everything], whereas for this, everything became quite singular again. How do you find it? How do you balance it?

“Georgia’s [Oakley] sensibility, there are no right or wrongs, there are just different ways of being, so true of life.”

LS: Family life and work? It’s wild. It’s very intense, [laughs] and I have two kids with two different fathers, so it’s even more complicated. I just juggle around. Do you say that? [laughs] It’s not really the organisation, I can manage that. It’s more the guilt – I feel very guilty when I work too much. So then when I’m not working, I want to spend all my time with my kids. But then I’m like, drained. [both laugh]
GM: I know it’s a crazy balance.

LS: So [back to Sense and Sensibility], you’re proud of it?
GM: Yes. You know, in seeing the film, what I think is really wonderful– and it’s a credit to Jane Austen’s book, and then Diana [Reid], who wrote the script, it’s her first script actually, she’s a novelist from Australia. India [Flint], our producer, found and loved Diana’s work, and she got her to write the script. It’s so balanced, that’s what I love about it.

LS: It’s so much easier to act when it’s well written.
GM: You just have to say the words. And it’s just so rich. Again, Georgia’s sensibility, there are no right or wrongs, there are just different ways of being, so true of life.

LS: Who plays the sisters?
GM: Daisy Edgar-Jones and Esmé Creed-Miles. Then Frank Dillane plays [John] Willoughby, and Herbert Nordstrom plays Colonel Brandon; we’re the three boys. I think the film’s really balanced, really fair and very loving as well. It’s always difficult to be objective about something you’re in…

LS: Do you sometimes have that feeling of being disappointed by something you’ve [worked on]?
GM: You know, I feel like I’m always so clear about why I want to do something that, in a way, because that comes first, and I always feel sure about that, even if it’s for different reasons each time, I can be at peace with however it turns out. If I’m really honest, it’s about how it’s received as well. When you really believe in something, and if it kind of falls in between the cracks, there’s something in it that I’d love more people to experience. Other times, it’s also interesting when you think, “This felt a very particular way in the making of it, and then it hasn’t become that in a viewing experience.” But then again, I’m always wary of… I think more and more you can have a sense of what something’s going to be. You can sort of smell or feel what a film is. But I guess you just don’t know how people will react to it. How about you?

LS: It can happen. But it’s good to have that feeling, to see something you’ve done and to be happy about it.
GM: If you know why you’re doing something, it doesn’t matter how it turns out.

LS: It’s true.
GM: Sometimes you want the reason that you did it to be received more, [laughs] if you know what I mean? Where the ethos behind its making is as important as the film itself. But I’ve also been thinking over the last wee while that, actually, these projects are there for an audience, and to have that in mind as well. I think I went through a period of almost being completely… I never considered what it would be to others. In a way, it was about what it was trying to do.

LS: Now you feel that you’re doing things for the audience more?
GM: Not entirely, but to be enjoyed, yeah.

LS: To entertain, you mean?
GM: Not just to entertain. A wee while ago, I felt like I wasn’t seeing things that were… I wasn’t being moved or shocked or thrilled in the way that I used to be. And maybe that’s me being older, but I feel like it’s still got to be offered out to an audience. Not for an audience’s approval, but to offer them an experience, to give something rather than to do something purely for yourself. It’s always a balance. There’s part of me that thinks there’s a beauty in the purity of not thinking beyond the process. Then I also do think some of the time it’s really important to consider [the finished experience]. How do you prepare for a role? Does it change, or do you do the same prep?

LS: No, I don’t have the same prep. Most of the time, I go with my instinct. I don’t really have a method, and maybe I am not very pragmatic about it. How do you work?
GM: See, I love loads of prep. But I’m trying to sort of meet the two.

LS: Do you work with someone?
GM Not a coach. I’ve got friends who are actors who I run scenes with, or improvise with, and then just on my own. Doing research for something, like with La Bête, so much of it was the French, the practicality of learning…

LS: Your French was amazing in the film, it’s crazy how you learned –amazing. Do you realise that your French is stunning in the movie?
GM: No, because I don’t speak it. [both laugh]

LS: It’s amazing.
GM: Well, merci.

LS: Did you know that I just did a movie where I had to speak German? I don’t speak a word of German.
GM: How was it?

LS: I loved it, it was good.
GM: I remember I was so nervous on that first day’s filming – I don’t know if you could tell – but it was really lovely because you just said it in passing and it just made me feel so relaxed. We did the first scene and you turned to me and went, “It’s fun to speak in French, non?” [laughs] I kind of sighed. I really appreciate that you were so kind to me on that job.

LS: I loved working with you. I had so much fun. You really made it easy for me. We had so much fun, and we were so goofy – I loved it.
GM: We giggled a lot, we laughed a lot. I remember we filmed that scene with the sort of walkway, and doing like runway models. [both laugh]

LS: I still have the video. [both laugh] Have you ever done a comedy?
GM: I did a very small film called A Guide to Second Date Sex. It was a comedy that took place in a house one night. But I’d love to do more comedy.

LS: Because you are extremely funny. I don’t know if people know how funny you are.
GM: Maybe one day we will do a fantastic rom-com. That’s sweet of you to say. But also, things that make me laugh are quite absurd, I think. I don’t know if they’re commercially viable. [laughs] I like to laugh – I think it’s important. It’s the best feeling in the world. I don’t think people know how funny you are.

“Just to work with someone like Tom [Ford], who’s so clear in his vision. It was impressive to be around him, to see that clarity and to feel like you’re part of facilitating that.”

LS: Have you ever refused a movie that you regretted afterwards?
George: No. I’ve not got things that I’ve wanted, you know? You go up for things that you really, really want, and you feel like, “I’d love to be part of this,” and they haven’t worked. But I feel good about most choices, as we were saying earlier, because of why you’re doing them. Then how it turns out or how it’s received – you’ve got no control over that. Then some of them are beautiful surprises as well.

LS: I love that it’s such an unknown science. Everything is uncertain.
GM: Do you have a scene or an experience filming that meant a lot to you, or where you learned something?

LS: I don’t really know. I always find the term ‘learn’ a bit strange because I don’t think that I really learn something, more like experiment. I feel that it’s all about experience. I like to act, not because I like to become someone else, I don’t really believe that I become someone else, but more to feel. I like that when you act, you’re very aware and present in yourself. Even when you have to do an intense scene, I’m always scared about the intensity, but at the same time, it’s something that I really like. I like to suffer. [laughs] I think it’s more about experimentation and experience. What about you?
GM: I had one scene, particularly, it was not in the final film, but it meant a lot to me. It was for True History of the Kelly Gang. I’d been working with the director, Justin, on it for such a long period of time. He’s so brilliant and really pushed everyone. He had such a great process of getting you to sort of understand it without ever really doing the scene, but you’d explore it in other ways. You never practised what it was, but you’d practise the energy of it, or the things around it. We were playing a bunch of Australian outlaws, and it’s another period film, so we’ve got guns on horses. Our rehearsal was Justin being like, “I’ve booked a gig in Melbourne in a bar, and you have to write an album and play a punk gig on this date, that’s your rehearsal.” It was great. So then the vibe between the four of us in the gang was that experience. He created this energy and by the end of the film, I was really so caught up in the whole experience, and there was this particular scene where my character has a sort of dream of his father, and he’s on his last legs. It was so crazily personal and totally in the world of the story… It was so thrilling because it was so blurry. It’s that thing you hunger for. I don’t really know how to describe it, but what happened was so profoundly personal for me. It happened in an imaginary context, when we were most inside the characters, we’d been doing it for months and months and months – talking in the accent, living a certain way, thinking about this thing. It was the end of the shoot and things sort of came full circle. And then in a really good way, the scene’s not in the film. It was an experience that was very personal, but maybe irrelevant to the story. The whole last two weeks of that film, there’s a sequence where we’re in this pub that wound up getting burned down, and it’s a last stand between the gang and the police – it’s full-on. That for me… Like you say, it was so uncomfortable and turbulent, but it’s one of my greatest memories on set.

grooming CHARLIE CULLEN at FORWARD ARTISTS using 111 SKIN and KEVIN MURPHY HAIR; photography assistants EMILY WALTON, EDWARD PRYKE, BRAXTON GORRINGE, ALI MACALINO; fashion assistant EMILIA ZENTNER