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Sunday, Nov 8, 2009
Cross-dressing comedian Eddie Izzard on big breaks, serious roles and talking crap.
Dec 11, 2002 | With his taste for raccoon eye shadow, blinding lamé suits and platform pumps, Eddie Izzard commands the stage with erratic style and hyperactive verve. His keen mind is a wonder, allowing him to go off on mental tangents that brilliantly (and often nonsensically) segue among disparate topics like world history, pop culture and "The Star-Spangled Banner." A name attraction in his native Britain since the early '90s, it wasn't until his 1998 HBO special, "Dress to Kill," that Izzard finally became a commodity in the States. The Emmy-winning one-man show was recently released on DVD for the first time. On it, Izzard is at his irreverent best, offering ruminations on the strategic use of flag-planting in British colonialism, the failed marriages of Henry VIII, the building of Stonehenge and the genesis of Engelbert Humperdinck's name
In recent years, Eddie Izzard has parlayed his popularity into a thriving film career, opting for dramatic roles in independent films like "Shadow of the Vampire," "Velvet Goldmine" and "The Cat's Meow" (in which he played Charlie Chaplin). His latest big-screen effort is "All the Queen's Men," a World War II comedy about a bumbling group of soldiers (led by "Friends" star Matt LeBlanc) who disguise themselves as women in order to infiltrate a female-run factory housing the Nazis' Enigma code machines. In the film, Izzard playfully exploits his drag persona as a combat-shy cabaret diva who gives his squad a crash course in the fine art of cross-dressing. An actor of surprising naturalness and versatility, Izzard frequently takes on theater projects, and his portrayal of Lenny Bruce in the London production of "Lenny" earned critical raves.
How do you explain the allure of dressing up in women's clothes?
It's not an allure, it's just a sexuality. It's the only way I can express the feminine side of myself as a member of the transgender community. If you have an outwardly biological bloke's body, then that's the only way you can move toward where you feel more comfortable. I mean, women can already do it -- they can be tomboys and that's no problem.
When did you first decide to incorporate transvestitism into your act?
I came out when I was 23, and I got into stand-up when I was about 26 and that started taking off when I was about 29. In 1991, I told the press because I thought, Well, my stand-up's taking off in Britain so I better tell them so they can't reveal it. Then I just started talking about it onstage for about a year and the press thought that it was some sort of gag. Then I thought I better wear some makeup so I'm not scared of being able to do that. The people started saying it was a whole gimmick. It was very bizarre. I was hugely fearful of the impact it [coming out] would have on my career. I videotaped the first-ever gig and it was 60-40 that I could've lost the career at that point.
How did initial audiences react to your onstage persona?
Well, they were sort of OK. The first five minutes, they all went, "Wow, what the hell's going on?" Then after five minutes they just got on with it; I could've been wearing an elephant suit. It didn't really matter. The comedy was still the same. I talk surreal crap and that never changes.
Your role in "All the Queen's Men" plays up your transgender image. Was that a selling point for you or just incidental?
Yeah, I think that was a selling point. They wanted me to play this part, which was initially a gay transvestite, and I said, "Well, I'm a straight transvestite, so why don't we bring the character more toward my end?" In the end, we ended up making him a bisexual transvestite, and I thought, OK, because he was supposed to be something of an action transvestite who had been in the military and then kicked out when they found him wearing his wife's clothing. When the director [Stefan Ruzowitzky] agreed to go with that, I thought I'll go do it because when I first came out, I never thought I'd be able to play an action transvestite in a film and get paid for it. Plus, I'm also kind of fascinated with that period and I wanted to be in the army when I was a kid.
As someone who's fiendishly in tune with American pop culture, what was it like acting alongside one of the "Friends"?
It was great. I haven't done comedy in my films. I've generally chosen dramas in my films and theater work because I always wanted to be a dramatic actor. I had a great time working with Matt [LeBlanc] and it was also quite weird working with someone who had such good comic timing since I'm used to working on my own.
From "Velvet Goldmine" to "Shadow of the Vampire," you've made some pretty unorthodox film choices. How do you usually pick your projects?
Well, initially, and even still, I don't really have a choice of everything in the world. Quite often when something comes around it tends to be like, "Do you wanna do this film or not?" And if I say no, then I just have to wait around another few months for something else to come up. I take money out of it. Money is not the driving thing; that's where you lose it.
Is it frustrating not having your pick of projects or are you happy with the roles you get offered?
In the sense that you always like to have the choice for every single film, I'd love to be in "The Lord of the Rings," but I was probably touring at the time and didn't even know it was being made. [Laughs] You have to deal with it.
What do you see as the major differences between American and British audiences?
There's no difference.
Did you feel any pressure to refigure your material in order to adapt to the sensibilities of American audiences?
No, the audiences I play for can all string a sentence together. In fact, American audiences prefer it if you just keep it entirely British and they can work out the slang and everything. The trick is, don't change a thing.
