Colin Farrell has always been hard to pin down. A Hollywood heartthrob one minute, an indie chameleon the next, Farrell spent the last 25 years running full tilt through the industry — from action blockbusters to intimate character dramas, and, more recently, under heavy prosthetics as DC Comics villain Oswald Cobblepot in HBO Max’s “The Penguin.”
But Farrell’s latest role in Edward Berger’s operatic drama “Ballad of a Small Player” might be one of his most personal yet. The Irish actor plays Lord Doyle, a washed-up British gambler stumbling through the neon-lit chaos of Macau, hiding from his past and slipping further into addiction. The film, adapted from Lawrence Osborne’s novel, is a kaleidoscopic departure for Berger, whose past works include the German war drama “All Quiet on the Western Front” and the religious thriller “Conclave.” Where those films were grounded and austere, “Ballad” is loud, saturated and surreal.
“The character’s journey is designed with an eye on the inner workings — and the inevitable disgust and shame — that accompany the journey of an addict heading quickly toward his rock bottom,” Farrell tells the Variety Awards Circuit Podcast.
However, when Farrell comes into the podcast studio, it’s the Monday after the box office numbers for Sony’s “A Big Bold Beautiful Journey” came in — and they weren’t good. The film, a tender and romantic fantasy movie from director Kogonada, opened well below expectations. Farrell doesn’t dodge the subject; he meets it with the humility that only comes from experience.
“It’s disappointing, of course,” he says. “Everyone worked so hard. I thought it was a beautiful story, and I’m really proud of it. But you learn, after all this time, that the numbers are one thing and the experience of making something meaningful is another. That’s the bit that stays with you.” He pauses, then adds with a small shrug, “It’s a reminder that the miracle is when it all connects — but that’s rare, and that’s OK.”
It’s familiar ground for the actor, who has spoken candidly over the years about his own struggles with addiction and excess. However, unlike the self-destruction he once leaned into, Farrell now speaks from a place of reflection — a man who’s slowed his pace without losing his fire.
“I find the work more exciting now than I ever did,” he reflects. “I have a greater degree of curiosity than I had when I was 24. The noise of the world doesn’t drown me out anymore.”
The Oscar-nominated actor of “The Banshees of Inisherin” (2022) is quick to acknowledge his mixed feelings about fame, the weight of public scrutiny and the relentless expectations of the industry. He’s also honest about the uncertainty he feels toward continuing his role as Penguin, despite the acclaim that followed the series.
“I both loved it, and by the end of it, I was so over it,” he admits. “I don’t feel a burning desire to have another eight hours.”
Still, he’s returning to the role for Matt Reeves’ “The Batman 2,” slated to begin production in 2026. He’s read the script — and says it moved him emotionally.
For now, Farrell is enjoying something unfamiliar in Hollywood: a lull. No productions on the books. No roles lined up. Just time with his two sons, the occasional movie and maybe a road trip or two.
“It’s a sweet spot to be in,” he says.
On this week’s episode of the Variety Awards Circuit Podcast, Farrell reflects on his career, collaborations, sobriety, Batman and what gives him hope in a chaotic world. Also on this episode, “The Life of Chuck” star Mark Hamill, who discusses working on Mike Flanigan film, and reflecting on his time in the “Star Wars” universe. Listen below!
Read excerpts from the edited and condensed version below.
Ballad of a Small Player
Courtesy of SIFF
You mentioned recently that you’re enjoying a rare lull. What does downtime look like for you right now?
Gainfully unemployed? I’ve been going back to back, really not by design. I’m not going to say I’m not ambitious. We all have ambitions. I got on the plane 25 years ago and came here. I have ambition, but I’m not as ambitious as you might think from the outside, because I work a lot. But now I’m looking down the road, and November and December, when I have nothing lined up at all, which is a sweet spot to be in.
Looking forward to just being home, catching some movies, maybe a road trip or two, hanging with my (sons).
In “Ballad of a Small Player,” you and director Edward Berger plunge into a heightened, operatic world. What drew you to that tone and to Macau as a setting?
The cinematic context of what my guy, Riley, is going through, aka Lord Doyle in the film, is not as grounded as “Leaving Las Vegas.” It’s a lot more heightened. Edward was really keen on doing something — having done something that was so gut-wrenchingly and horrifically grounded as “All Quiet on the Western Front” and then going into something with a greater degree of sterility, but no less formal, equally as grounded in its own way, having a look inside the inner workings of the Vatican in “Conclave” — he really wanted to stretch his wings and do something that was unabashedly operatic and just big and bombastic and brash and bold and loud and saturated with color.
Macau offers all those things fundamentally, certainly at least the gambling strip in Macau, which is very like Vegas. It’s just a carbon copy. But it’s also a place where I can’t imagine my life would have ever taken me if it weren’t for this film. I really loved my time there.
What, specifically, felt different about working with Berger?
I had seen “Patrick Melrose,” which he did with Benedict Cumberbatch, that also kind of swims in the waters of the madness and desperation of addiction. And I loved that. I had seen that two or three years before “All Quiet,” and then “All Quiet” blew me away. And then “Conclave” I loved as well.
He’s extraordinary, he’s incredibly collaborative. You don’t often find directors who are considered auteurs and have as keen a singularity of vision and as clear a vision as Edward has, who are as inclusive and collaborative as he is. He has an amazing troupe of creatives that he works with — James Friend, his cinematographer, down to the camera operator, to the focus puller.
Ed also has a very keen aesthetic eye, a really dogmatic approach to details, as demonstrated throughout “All Quiet” and particularly in the opening five minutes of “Conclave.” I’m not a fan of inserts in film. I’m not a fan of didacticism, which involves spelling everything out. But when it’s an art form, the way Edward makes it, it’s very beautiful.
The film explores the complexities of chance, fate, and addiction. How much of that felt personal?
I certainly relate to the idea, having been a victim of this myself from time to time, although not as much as I used to be in my 20s and 30s. However, I still experience it to this day, at 49. Not all human beings — the majority of human beings are struggling to provide for their families and themselves. Really, the majority are struggling to figure out where the next meal is coming from and keep a roof over their heads and their families’ heads.
But particularly in the Western world, many human beings do look, and I’m guilty of this on many occasions, for something in the environment that will give us a sense that our existence is justified. It’s such a powerful thing to be a human being, and we all feel like we didn’t ask for it. We’re stuck at a party that we don’t remember ever receiving an invitation to, and so we’re constantly looking outside ourselves for some way to justify our existence or find something that will acknowledge or indicate our worth.
I can relate to, on a personal level, Doyle’s struggle, certainly with addiction as well. I have my own history with addiction, but that kind of looking outside oneself for justification for one’s very existence is a bit of a fool’s errand.
“The Penguin” connected with audiences and critics. After that marathon, how are you thinking about a Season 2?
I’ve discussed my experience from all different angles, and I both loved it and, by the end, was over it. Don’t get me wrong, I was paid highly for it. It was like — to talk about being a fan of film and television — I cannot separate me, this fella who’s in a trailer, slipping into the body suit at the start of a day, from the five-year-old, six-year-old Colin in his pajamas, who sat watching “Batman” ’66 on his parents’ living room floor. I can’t.
So, my sense of honor in bringing this, another iteration of the character from Burgess Meredith and Danny DeVito, as well as the gentleman from the “Gotham” TV show, which I still haven’t watched, who I’ve heard is extraordinary as the Penguin, my honor was very real. But I was spoiled by getting eight hours and six months. I don’t feel a burning desire myself to have another eight hours. But life is bigger than my burning desires.
If they came up with an interesting way, because it has to work in some parallel way to Matt’s world, at the beginning of “Batman,” — “The Penguin” show was set up so beautifully, architecturally, infrastructurally, emotionally, psychologically, opportunistically, by what happened at the end of “The Batman” film, the flood. And those two things, the flood and Carmine Falcone being killed, and there being a power vacuum in Gotham City. It was a perfect opportunity for us to create an eight-hour parallel story that could then possibly be leveraged in the second film.
So it would have to be something really cool. I wouldn’t like to go back to the trough just because the first one worked, and then leave something with people having a taste for it, and they’re like, “Why didn’t you leave it alone?” It’d be a shame. So if they came up with something extraordinary, I’d be interested in doing it again.
I have a contractual obligation to ask you about “The Batman 2.” You’ve read Matt Reeves’ script. What can you share about what to expect?
I’m contractually obligated to shoot that question down, to meet your contractual obligation with my contractual obligation. What a sword fight. No, as I said a couple of weeks ago, maybe it was at one of the festivals, I read the script, and it’s just brilliant.
My perspective is that it’s a work of contemporary genre brilliance. It really is. Matt toils so hard, and he puts himself under such pressure. And he realizes what this character and this world mean to so many people, and he knows it’s been around for decades; he’s the man for the job. He really is. He’s a brilliant filmmaker. The thing about Matt, as well, is that, as commercially minded as he is, he’s also so intellectually rigorous.
This film, like the first one, works on multiple levels, both as pure entertainment and as an investigation into the psychology of the characters of Bruce Wayne and Batman. It’s really, really moving. I found myself very emotionally moved while I was reading it.
Take us back to the beginning. How does your 25-year journey look from today?
My God, how life has changed in 25 years. It was a completely different headspace, but I will say it was an incredibly exciting time. I was 22 or 23 when I got off the plane from Dublin. I did three weeks of meetings. I had never been to America in my life, so all of a sudden I came here as an actor. I could see the Hollywood sign in the hills. It was both exciting and pure.
Then Joel Schumacher, God rest his soul and his generosity of spirit. Joel really took a kick from, quote unquote, discovering, quote unquote, new actors or actors who had been unseen in films. The Brat Pack, and he’s synonymous with “St. Elmo’s Fire” and “The Lost Boys,” as well as the actors he gave their first opportunities in film. And I was one of those actors. I’d done a couple of things at home. I did a TV show called “Falling for a Dancer.” But I was unknown in the extreme, and Joel took a punt and put me in “Tigerland.” And they were exciting days.
But now life is very different. I have my two boys, who are rapidly growing up into young men. I find the work more exciting, the job more exciting now than I ever did. Because it’s not so — I was very overwhelmed at 22 or 23 once things started. It happened very fast, like “Tigerland” went into “American Outlaws” that didn’t work, and then went into “Hart’s War.” All of a sudden, I’m on a set with John McClane. Seriously, I’m all of a sudden on a set with John McClane, then I’m on a set with Michael Corleone doing “The Recruit.” And I was 24. It was just the most spectacular kind of head fuck. That was wonderful, but it was very overwhelming.
So I feel now that life has kind of settled, or I’ve settled into life more, and it’s allowed me, it’s freed me up to actually really appreciate just the idea of going to work and bringing stories to life with a bunch of people and working on different texts and swinging for the fences and trying different things. I have a greater degree of curiosity now than I had when I was 24 because there’s so much going on when you’re a 24-year-old man. The world, as noisy as it still can be sometimes, doesn’t drown my mind out with its chaos and its noise, or even the ambition that I was referring to earlier.
Beyond Gotham, what’s happening with projects like “Sgt. Rock” and Andrew Haigh’s “Belly of the Beast”?
“Sgt. Rock?” Oh, no, and I was kind of relieved it was pulled because I was gonna go straight in from — I just did the second season of this TV show, “Sugar,” for Apple, and I literally would have wrapped that and been on a plane. It’s great now I get to be home with the kids. So, no, I don’t know if it’s going to circle back or what’s going to happen.
God, that one’s a heartbreaker, man. I love that script. I love Andrew Haigh, I love that script so much. The climate now can’t get X amount, which is not a lot, to make it. Ben Stiller wants to play Norman Mailer, and I’ve spoken to Ben about it, and I would play Jack Henry Abbott. Andrew Haigh wrote an extraordinary script, really, but it’s a tough film to get made. It’s tough subject matter, and the way Andrew would like to film it, I know he would like to shoot it on film.
It’s also a fascinating time in the history of American culture, cinema, and literature. Norman Mailer was on a slight downward slope in terms of his perception. And Jack Henry Abbott, everyone was getting into his corner and trying to promote the idea that his art was reason enough for him to be released from the penitentiary. And it was proven, horrifically, within a few weeks of his being set free, that he should not have been.
But it’s a beautiful script. I’m not sure if we can get it made. I would love to do it. It would look and feel a little bit like the aesthetic and the feeling, the sensibility of “Taxi Driver” and “Midnight Cowboy.” It would be a real throwback. And it’s very hard to try and pitch that kind of film now.
In a difficult time globally, where’s your head at on life?
It’s incredibly hard for a lot of people everywhere. You’ll have to forgive me if I generalize, but I do so from the heart when I look at the history of the human experience on this planet. It’s always been a disaster, punctuated by moments and periods, as well as individual and communal acts of great grace and kindness.
There is so much good in this world, and it’s easy to feel overwhelmed. I find, or get down when we see the violence and we see the impatience, and we see the division, and we see the mud slinging, and then go bigger, and we see the wars and the death and the starvation. It’s a messed-up place, this rock, man, it really is. It’s a very cruel place for the majority of its inhabitants, but it’s also a place where extraordinary acts of kindness, decency, and communal outreach occur every single day.
I have to remind myself of the goodness that exists on this planet, because otherwise, it’s very easy to get overwhelmed by the badness. In the simplest terms, I just wish we could all do a better job of getting along. I really, really do. I refuse to believe it’s as hard as it presents itself to be on a regular basis.
Variety’s “Awards Circuit” podcast, hosted by Clayton Davis, Jazz Tangcay, Emily Longeretta, Jenelle Riley and Michael Schneider, who also produces, is your one-stop source for lively conversations about the best in film and television. Each episode, “Awards Circuit” features interviews with top film and TV talent and creatives, discussions and debates about awards races and industry headlines, and much more. Subscribe via Apple Podcasts, Stitcher, Spotify or anywhere you download podcasts.
