

Pugh had a gentle introduction to the industry, aged 17 (and still in sixth form), with a part in the enigmatic coming-of-age drama The Falling (2014), largely because director Carol Morley prevented the cast (most of whom were school age) from watching themselves on screen. Photograph: Rosaline Shahnavaz/The Guardian In Ganni shirt and skirt, and Dune London heels. You never see a normal spot, a bag under the eye or an unplucked eyebrow, because that’s not how Hollywood works.” What we don’t realise when we watch a normal film is how many times someone has run in just before a shot quickly to wipe away that sweaty moustache. As beautiful as cinema is, it’s a massive part of the problem of why we look at ourselves in the way we do. “Everybody was gross and dirty and hairy I was over the moon to be watching something where not one person was movie-ready. But I get to be here, representing this woman whose storyline has been stripped from her.’”Įqually empowering, she says, was watching early footage at the wrap party – something that’s normally awkward, because “it’s so difficult to not look at your flaws”. It was an amazing moment because, while the industry was kicking off, it was like, ‘OK, yeah, here is an example where there aren’t that many women in this film and that is sad. “It was during the time everyone was like, ‘We need more women.’ But I was on set with 100 of these incredibly intelligent, wonderful men and we all looked after each other. That shoot coincided with the start of the #MeToo movement, which Pugh says was a heightened experience because she was one of the few women on set. “It was all on Chris Pine’s penis! It’s just a penis,” she laughs. Chris Pine stars as Scottish king Robert the Bruce, with Pugh as his queen, and most of all, the critics seem preoccupied with Pine’s “full-frontal nudity”.

We meet soon after Outlaw King has just premiered at Toronto film festival, to mixed reviews. But that doesn’t sound as good! After Lady Macbeth, it was… I mean, everybody knows everything now.”

Will there be an equivalent to the #Hiddlesbum phenomenon, when Tom Hiddleston’s naked bottom stole the scene from Elizabeth Debicki? “I think there’s a Pugh bum at some point. Photograph: Rosaline Shahnavaz/The GuardianĬomparisons between The Little Drummer Girl and its multi-award-winning 2016 predecessor The Night Manager will be unavoidable, from the exotic filming locations (this year’s drama is a glowing advertisement for Greece, rather than Mallorca) to the all-star cast ( Alexander Skarsgård plays Israeli intelligence officer Becker, with whom Pugh’s character, Charlie, becomes entangled). In Victoria Beckham shirt and skirt, and Essential Antwerp boots. “With the life I’ve been lucky enough to live in the last two years, I’ve had to live out of bags.” This time last year, she was filming King Lear, before moving on to Scotland to make the forthcoming Netflix film Outlaw King. In a few months, she flies to Boston, because Lady Bird director Greta Gerwig has cast her in a big-screen adaptation of Little Women alongside Saoirse Ronan and Chalamet. It’s Midsommar that has brought the Oxford-born actor to Budapest. “We both got told off by our reps for doing that, but it was one of those amazing moments.” Pugh had just come off a night shoot when she FaceTimed him, and “usually when you do those Skype, you beat around the bush, but we were both so tired, we were like, ‘I’m yours’,” she says softly. There has to be some level of fear.”īut then Ari Aster, horror film director du jour, came calling, asking her to take the lead in Midsommar, the follow-up to his critically acclaimed debut Hereditary. “I was scared, of course, but I always like to be. “It was such a rewarding but intense shoot,” she says.

Photograph: Jonathan Olley/APįilming the six-part espionage thriller under the direction of Park Chan-wook (who made 2003’s hyper-violent neo-noir Oldboy) was so exhausting that Pugh planned to have the summer off she even considered taking up knitting to relax. With Alexander Skarsgård in The Little Drummer Girl.
