Old interview #8: “Jemma’s tall tale of actors”

The Express

December 20, 2004



SHE hails from one of the tallest acting dynasties but Jemma Redgrave believes that performing opposite Stephen Fry is, quite literally, a pain in the neck. The actress, 38, who portrays the 6ft 5ins actor’s wife in the new ITV adaptation of Tom Brown’s Schooldays, explains: “He is the tallest actor I have played against and it feels like you are looking up at the Eiffel Tower. As a result you get a crick in your neck from repetitive strain.” Jemma – daughter of actor Corin Redgrave and a respectable 5ft 8ins – has since had to cope with a further tall order in the shape of ex-Stars In Their Eyes host Matthew Kelly. The pair star in another forthcoming ITV drama Cold Blood and, like Fry, Kelly is almost a foot taller than her. “I’ll need a physiotherapist when I work with him, ” she says.

Old interview #7: “After hours”

The Times (London)

March 24, 2001, Saturday

After hours

BYLINE: Amber Cowan

The actress Jemma Redgrave relieves aggression through kickboxing, finds Rome very sexy, is a big fan of Nick Hornby and The Clangers, but hates today’s children’s television


I adore Shakespeare and A Midsummer Night’s Dream, in particular, has always had a special significance for me. For a start it was the first play that I went to see. My grandmother took me to the Peter Brook production at the RSC when I was five. The performance was set in a big white box and the fairies were like circus performers on stilts. I remember being captivated by the spectacle of it all, but also very confused by the fact that there was no forest on the stage when I had been told that there would be.

It is also the first play that I took my seven-year-old son Gabriel to see, last Christmas. Like me, he was worried about the absence of trees on stage, but was soon electrified by the whole thing. And he thought the fact that Shakespeare had a character called Bottom was hysterically funny.

I am a great advocate of taking children to the theatre as early as possible. We worry that they won’t understand the language of Shakespeare, but children are so used to not understanding the language of adults that they just go with the flow.

Playing Titania at the moment is a real coup for me, as the other actresses in my family (aunts Vanessa and Lynn Redgrave and cousins Natasha and Joely Richardson) usually play Helena. Titania is such a sexy, liberating character. There’s something very “free-love” about her. She has managed to avoid her husband for a whole year, and then she goes and falls in love with a donkey.

I try to get to the theatre as often as I can. The last play I was mesmerised by was Pinter’s The Caretaker with Michael Gambon (left with Rupert Graves). It was astonishing. Gambon’s appearance changes dramatically when he’s in character. Throughout the play he appeared shrivelled and wizened, but when he stood upright to take his curtain call, the stage seemed to shrink in his presence.


I am torn between New York, Paris and Rome for my favourite city, but if you held a gun to my head, I’d plump for Rome. I love the way the Romans live on and around their monuments. And I love the steaminess of it all: sexiness just seems to hang in the air there.

Maybe it’s because Italians generally live at home until they are into their thirties, so they are forced to do their courting outdoors.

I discovered Rome without a map and it was an amazing experience. I spent three weeks there in 1993 filming an Italian television drama and on my days off I would wander around aimlessly with my co-star, Stephen Dillane.

My mother went to school in Rome and so I’d heard all about it, but nothing prepares you for the intense beauty of it all. You walk into a square and suddenly, there’s the Pantheon. You hear the rush of water and look, there’s the Trevi Fountain. That said, I haven’t been to Venice yet and I suspect all those gondolas might make me change my mind.


The design of the Pompidou Centre in Paris (above) is witty and inventive and I love it. There’s something about the juxtaposition of that glass and the external structural architecture that fills me with glee.

The last time I was there was for a season of British Cinema which kicked off with a festival of Redgrave films. As a family we spanned almost every genre of British film, and so we all went over for the launch. I admit I felt like a bit of a fraud because I have done only a handful of films. But there was an irony to the festival as well, in the fact that it was the French celebrating British cinema, rather than the British.


Nick Hornby is a big, big favourite of mine. I’m a huge Arsenal supporter and so I read Fever Pitch (Penguin, Pounds 6.99) and found it absolutely spot-on. There’s one scene where he’s describing the differences between his bedroom and his girlfriend’s bedroom which I can practically quote verbatim. He’s so funny. I also adored About a Boy (Penguin, Pounds 6.99), which was wonderfully witty and touching.

Otherwise, I love Ian McEwan, in particular his novel Black Dogs (Vintage, Pounds 6.99). It is set in the Forties, and is about this couple who are desperately in love but who can’t stand to be together. There is a terrible clash between fervent religious belief on her side, and severe political atheism on his, and they cannot reconcile their differences. It’s romantic, but also psychological.


The Clangers and Captain Pugwash (left) are my all-time favourite television shows. A close second, though, is the series Tough Love, with Ray Winstone and Adrian Dunbar, which ran on ITV last year. That was the absolute antithesis of the usual police dramas where they always know who their culprit is and spend the entire programme trying to gather evidence to convict them. I also enjoyed Donovan Quick with Colin Firth and Kate Murphy. And I love Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? I kid myself that I know all the answers and would make it to a million, but in my heart I know I couldn’t.

I have never been hooked on soaps, though having just had a baby I find myself listening to The Archers on Radio 4 at bathtime in the evenings. For some reason the theme tune has a very soporific effect on the baby. In contrast I am usually on the edge of my seat, worrying about whether Phoebe is about to be kidnapped and taken to South Africa or whatever.


Kick-boxing is a major passion in my life. I took it up about two years ago and I have earned my second belt, which I’m very proud about. It’s strange: I think gyms are mind-numbingly boring -hideous inventions of the Devil in fact -but I love kick-boxing. Perhaps because it’s more of an art than a sport, as every move is impeccably choreographed. And pad work is a great way to relieve aggression. It’s my ultimate goal in life to get my black belt. It’s probably going to take ten years, but I’m determined to do it.


At the moment, my listening habits are dictated by the whims of my son Gabriel. He’s into Shaggy, Destiny’s Child, Madonna and Craig David. Of course, I listened to terrible music when I was his age, too, so it’s churlish to complain. The first record that I ever bought was Gary Glitter’s I’m the Leader of the Gang (I Am!), with 50p I was given as a reward for being good at the dentist’s.

I like Coldplay and David Gray and, of course, old favourites such as the Beatles and Bowie. I sing the Beatles’ Love Me Do to my baby son Alfie and he gurgles back at me.

As a family, we have a formidable working knowledge of the soundtrack to My Fair Lady. On a trip to Italy last year, all the CDs we had packed were stolen from the car, and so for four weeks we were forced to listen to the only CD that we could find in the guest house, which was My Fair Lady. I suspect we’ll be going to see the production at the National (London SE1), with Martine McCutcheon (see review, page 25). She is such a good actress.


There’s a certain form of television-speak that really winds me up, and it seems to have crept into all areas of broadcasting. There’s one presenter on Blue Peter, for example -I don’t want to name her -who is particularly guilty of it. She sucks in her words and makes a funny smacking sound when she starts her sentences. In fact, I despise children’s television presenters. They are so patronising. Children’s television really makes me rant.

Jemma Redgrave was interviewed by Amber Cowan. A Midsummer Night’s Dream is at the Albery, London WC2, until May 12

Old interview #6: “Saturday People: No rules, just principles – Jemma Redgrave”

The Guardian (London)

October 8, 1988

Saturday People: No rules, just principles – Jemma Redgrave


There are obvious advantages, if you are an actress, in being a Redgrave.

If your grandfather was Sir Michael Redgrave, who lived in Palatial Bedford House on London’s Chiswick Mall; if your father is Corin Redgrave, stalwart of the actors’ union Equity; and if your aunt is Vanessa Redgrave you do not have to persuade theatre directors and film producers that Jemma Smith is a food name to put on a marquee.

On the other hand, as Jemma Redgrave has discovered, people do tend to ask you questions about whether you stand for the same beliefs as your family, which no one would bother to do if you were plain Jemma Smith. And you have to say you admire their commitment to whatever they are doing and will discuss nothing on the negative side.

Jemma Redgrave, now 23, and about to appear in her first film, a psychological thriller called Dream Demon, which opens next week, after some weighty work on stage (including her favourite, a revival of Strindberg’s little-known Easter at the Haymarket, Leicester) is a bright, fine-featured, and unconsciously elegant woman who says she tries to be true to herself but finds that things change within her so rapidly that she hesitates to state any opinions.

‘How I have been influenced by my family is a difficult question,’ she said yesterday before setting off for Bristol Old Vic to be in its production of The School for Scandal.

‘As fast as you make up your mind about something it becomes changed, and probably the best thing to learn at the moment, or maybe for life, is that there are no rules and no right and wrong ways. It is a question in life of having principles and trying to stick to them and that is very hard – there you go, you see, I have changed my mind already!’

Jemma has a sense of humour, which is possibly not the most conspicuous of the many Redgrave virtues. She laughs when told the film (she plays a debbish socialite about to marry an army hero beset by nightmares of being attacked and spied upon) has been dubbed by some as Nightmare on Sloan Street. She herself might pass for a Sloane Ranger. Though in fact she lives with her father at his home in Balham, London, the way the film came to her was almost casually Sloanish. In London for auditions, she had one last-minute appointment – at Lee International Studios to meet Dream Demon producer Paul Webster and director Harley Cokliss.

She had been auditioning for Romeo and Juliet. ‘Harley said, ‘Read us a bit of that.’ I tried to prevaricate, but I did it. They said it was nice having some Shakespeare at the end of a long day. Two days later they offered me the part.’

The girl’s fiance in the film (the one she must have been uneasy about all along) is in the end shown as something else besides a Falklands hero – he is an utter cad. Did that mean Dream Demon was an Establishment-knocking exercise a la Vanessa, suggesting that an apparently respectable society was really sick and corrupt?

‘It isn’t Establishment-knocking,’ Jemma replied. ‘That would be taking it too deep. Some people say that it is never made specific whether it is in her mind that he is a rotter or whether it is reality, though I myself think it is in reality.’

Her way of life certainly mirrors present-day realities more than her grandfather’s handsome life-style. Her two requirements, she said, were a modest place of her own, difficult without a fixed income, and a car. She already has the car – a 16 year-old Beetle. Not the sort of car to park in Chiswick Mall.

Old interview #5: “It’s in the blood”

The Express

February 7, 2002


SITTING in a London hotel, Jemma Redgrave (pictured), 36, has the twinkle in her eyes of a woman confident that anyone who wrote her off as a TV one-hit wonder will shortly be choking on a slice of humble pie, and it is with some justification that her latest TV offering, The Swap, is being flagged as one of ITV1’s big gun dramas of the winter ratings war against the BBC.

This is due in no small measure to the emotional punch she brings to the role of a London townhouse-dwelling wife and mother.

Battling to give her crumbling marriage one last try, she takes her workaholic husband (Michael Maloney) and young family off halfway round the world on one of those home swap holidays arranged over the Internet.

Things go horribly wrong when the apparently trustworthy academic whose idyllic Australian beach-front home they are temporarily occupying, turns out to be a raving psycho who proceeds to strip the fittings and terrorise everyone around their home back in England.

“The script was the draw for me, ” says Jemma, a theatre actress who became best known for playing ITV’s Victorian medic, Bramwell. “The very premise of the story and the director David Drury wanting to film it to create a sense of tension and menace got me hooked.”

The producers swear that, under the loopholes that exist in the law, everything that happens is completely possible, but for Redgrave there is only one thing that mattered – successfully turning in a performance that would make people sit up and take notice. After all, so many of us had become just a little bored with six seasons of that worthy, 19th-century quack, Dr Eleanor Bramwell, who finally bit the bullet in 1998.

With a mixed bag of so-sos (The Acid House) and no-nos (Fish) since, it was important for Redgrave to succeed – she does have the family reputation to uphold. In theatrical terms, it is some family: she is the daughter of Corin Redgrave and the niece of Vanessa Redgrave and Lynn Redgrave. Her cousins are Joely Richardson and Natasha Richardson. Natasha’s married to Liam Neeson.

Is it a help or an albatross? The Redgrave name, she says, might open doors – but also increases expectations.

“It isn’t something that I worry about anymore. When I started acting all those years ago, I was worried in case I embarrassed anybody. I don’t think I have. Every time you don’t embarrass people, you grow in confidence. But it’s all sink or swim, because if you weren’t any good you wouldn’t get any more jobs.”

Like us all, she just wants her work to be successful and to be appreciated. The Swap should provide the focus for both. “It would also be nice to think that a lot of people will watch it, ” she says with genuine modesty.

Old interview #4: “The Retiring Redgrave”

Daily Mail (London)

March 4, 1993, Thursday


BYLINE: Katy Macdonald

AS A third-generation member of the famous thespian dynasty, Jemma Redgrave has acting in her blood. She is the daughter of Corin, niece of Vanessa and Lynn, granddaughter of the late Sir Michael, and cousin of Joely and Natasha.

Jemma, 28, has taken leading roles on stage in such classics as Cyrano de Bergerac and As You Like It, and played Alan Alda’s leading lady in Thornton Wilder’s Our Town. From next week she stars in Anthony Burgess’ new version of the Russian comedy Chatsky at London’s Almeida Theatre.

Her parents split up during Jemma’s teenage years, with her mother Deirdre declaring that Corin, a member of the Workers’ Revolutionary Party, was trying to turn her into ‘Mrs Lenin’. Jemma divided her time between both parents. Last year she married her barrister boyfriend Tim Owen, and they live in Kentish Town.

‘Apart from jeans I have an English Eccentrics shirt that I live in. It’s got acorns and wonderful swirling patterns. I bought it two years ago and walked out of the shop wearing it. I like Nicole Farhi’s jumpers since they last for ever and are one designer item you can buy conscience-free, whereas I couldn’t possibly buy one of her tiny T-shirts for £100, or whatever they cost. At Christmas I tried on a fantastic Vivienne Westwood bodice with extraordinary angels and a tight velvet shirt. I was tempted, but I didn’t have the guts to spend so much on something I wouldn’t wear very often.’

‘A pair of old-fashioned plimsolls, which are very hard to get now. I’ve worn them to death and they’re full of holes, but I can’t find a replacement pair. Incredibly loud trainers are all that’s on offer in most shops. I have a pair of platform shoes, but they raise me to 5ft 10in – I’m 5ft 8in without them – making me feel terribly tall and intimidating. I bought my long suede boots from Russell & Bromley and I wear them with leggings and skirts. You have to be careful when you wear them with minis, though, otherwise you can look as if you’ve stepped out of the Starship Enterprise.’

Old interview #3: “Name of the game; Jemma Redgrave”


BYLINE: James Rampton

Actress Jemma Redgrave runs a mile when she hears the word “dynasty”. It’s not that she has a loathing of glitzy American soaps; it’s just that when your grandfather is Michael Redgrave, your father Corin Redgrave, your aunts Vanessa and Lynn Redgrave, and your cousins Natasha and Joely Richardson, the word tends to attach itself to you like a barnacle to the bottom of an old boat.

So it is with no little feeling that Jemma Redgrave expresses her delight that she is finally being viewed as an actress in her own right, irrespective of her famous name.

All the same, she claims her name was never a passport to work. “Nobody ever seriously thinks you get a job because of your name, because if you can’t do it, you don’t work. They might trot you round the paddock, but they’re not going to put you in for the race if you’re not up to it.

“At drama school, I felt I was getting away with it, I felt outside things. I would have good attempts but I could always hear my own voice. Now I feel connected. I don’t care what other people think, because I feel I’ve established myself.”

And she’s right. Her performances in the title role of Bramwell on ITV, as Sir Oswald’s wife in Channel 4’s Mosley, and as the lover in The Buddha of Suburbia on BBC2 have placed her at the forefront of TV performers.

In all Redgrave’s roles, viewers are drawn to her warmth and humanity. One critic observed that what marked her out was “her sense of heart”. Think of the poignant look of hurt that crossed her face when her husband (Jonathan Cake) in Mosley had the gall to blame her for his serial philandering. “People say you are so lovable, and I am so interesting,” he sneered. “I will try to be more lovable, if you’ll try to be more interesting.”

Bramwell, showing in two World Cup-busting feature-length episodes this week, was the show that really made her. Created by the acclaimed writer Lucy Gannon, the character – a doctor battling against prejudice and scant resources in the East End of Victorian London is both feisty and fiery.

A tall, elegant figure in a blue dress and pale cardigan, Redgrave reckons that “the good thing about Eleanor is that she’s not ingratiating. People say to me, ‘God, I want to slap her sometimes.’ And so do I. I think, ‘calm down, and just count to 10’. She frequently puts her foot in it, and she’s not afraid to be bad-tempered. But a lot of people identify with her strength and her determination, and her will to forge a career for herself in a male-dominated profession. That strikes a chord even now. She’s headstrong, bloody-minded, passionate and difficult, but naive and vulnerable at the same time. It’s a good rich mixture.”

Viewers have also been attracted, Redgrave admits, by the often gory hospital scenes. “People are fascinated by Victorian medicine because it’s so gruesome. A hundred years ago, they were removing a woman’s ovaries for what is now called post-natal depression.”

This is all of a piece with the gritty feel which distinguishes Bramwell from the chocolate-box look of much costume drama. “It’s less well-pressed than a lot of other period drama. It looks cold in the same way that Persuasion did – people are crumpled and muddy. There is a sense in Bramwell of a time when there was no central heating. It was freezing in that hospital. Poverty was filthy and not glamorous in any way.”

For all Redgrave’s success over three series in Bramwell, it was Mosley that grabbed the most headlines. Laurence Marks and Maurice Gran’s drama copped a great deal of flak for supposedly glamorising the British fascist leader. “It was obvious the series was going to be a talking-point, but I had no idea it was going to be so controversial. People asked whether it should have been made. The answer is yes.
“Mosley was a despicable monster, but he was part of our particular history. It was because Mosley was charismatic, fantastically articulate and a brilliant speaker that he was so dangerous. You can’t help thinking, ‘what a waste that a man with such promise and talent should have thrown it away and espoused such an evil cause’.”

“It’s now a very febrile time in Europe,” Redgrave says. “There are fascist movements in Russia and the Balkans. We must look at people like Mosley and understand them, so we don’t repeat our mistakes.”

Despite her telly hits, for a long time Redgrave had the makings of a severe case of stage-fright. “I hadn’t been anywhere near the theatre for five years. I went to a first night a year ago, and I got a panic attack. I thought, ‘how can they possibly do it when they know Michael Coveney the Daily Mail theatre critic and Nicholas de Jongh from the Evening Standard are sitting out there sharpening their pencils?'”

All that changed when Peter Hall persuaded her to take the lead in his production of Major Barbara at the Piccadilly Theatre in London. “She’s such a surprising character,” Redgrave enthuses. “You have certain expectations and preconceptions about a Salvation Army major of the early Edwardian period. She subverts them with her humour and humanity.”

Earnest, passionate, engaged, Redgrave displays a commitment to her work that she says she learnt from her father. “He has huge integrity and believes that one should be serious about what one does. I’ll end up in “Luvvies” for this, but there is value and weight in what we do.

“Gombrich says that you respond to painting because there’s something familiar in it that you understand even if it’s abstract. It illuminates and you connect with it. So whether it’s painting, opera or theatre, it’s important that you don’t short-change people. If you don’t take something seriously, what’s the point in doing it?”

‘Bramwell’ is on Mon and Thur at 8pm on ITV.

LOAD-DATE: June 15, 1998

Old interview #2: “MY PERFECT WEEKEND – Country gatherings and card games are a winning hand for actress Jemma Redgrave”

The Daily Telegraph (LONDON)

May 31, 2008 Saturday

MY PERFECT WEEKEND Country gatherings and card games are a winning hand for actress Jemma Redgrave

BYLINE: Interview by Yvonne Swann

A perfect weekend for me would be reminiscent of the weekends of my childhood. It would be just like the recent bank holiday when I stayed with friends in Norfolk with my husband [barrister Tim Owen] and our sons Gabriel, 14, and Alfie, eight. No weekend could be perfect if the children and my Labrador weren’t part of it.

The sun was shining and the Norfolk light in the mornings was magical, glowing on the views over the salt marshes towards the sea.
It was idyllic. There was a little boat and we sailed out on the ocean waves and watched the seals and wild birds at Blakeney Point. We went for long walks, read the papers and the dads played football with the boys.
That really is my ideal weekend: lots of children and games. As well as table tennis, card games with good friends is brilliant. You laugh so much, but it’s also seriously competitive.

We also like to play “First Lines” with the children. We find a book, read the blurb off the back jacket and everybody has to write down what they think the first line might be. You win if you pick the real first line out of everyone’s efforts and you win if your invented first line gets the most votes. It’s ridiculous fun and the sort of communal living among friends that I love.
We live in London and don’t get away to the country much at weekends, because my sons have a busy social and sporting life in the city. They love their football and cricket. Country breaks are very special to me.

As a child, I have very fond memories of being with my maternal grandparents, who lived in Shepperton, right on the Thames, in the grounds of a big house. There was always a dinghy nearby. My grandfather had been in the Navy and was a great sailor. I remember boating with him and in my mind it seems to have been forever summer there. We had a lot of freedom. We’d go off by ourselves and fish for pike. I also remember a lot of croquet in the grounds of the big house on summer evenings. It was lovely.

My paternal grandmother [actress Rachel Kempson, Lady Redgrave] had a cottage in Hampshire and I used to stay with her regularly. It was different again. She had a dog, which I adored, and those memories seem to be autumnal -all about bonfires and beautiful woods.

My mother [Deirdre Hamilton-Hill] had a vintage clothes stall in an antiques market in the King’s Road in London and took a stall in the Portobello Road to sell the leftovers. I used to go with her to the markets on Saturdays and was sometimes left in charge of the stall. As I had no idea what I was doing, I sold wonderful things for a pittance. At the time, I didn’t like the old clothes at all. Like most children, I was quite conservative and wanted a conventional life. I yearned for Marks & Spencer, not Victorian gowns. I’d love to have the whole stall now.

When I was little, I saw a Play for Today on the BBC about a Jacobean village. Clothes arrived in the village full of plague-carrying fleas. The play marked me. I was absolutely convinced that some terrible disease was going to be shipped in with the old clothes when they arrived at our house. I’d skirt the walls in terror.

In later years, I grew close to my paternal grandfather, the actor Michael Redgrave, who was divorced from my Hampshire grandmother. He taught me to play canasta, which is where my love of cards comes from. My father [actor Corin Redgrave] taught me poker when I was 10 and I still like to play it at weekends.

My recent Norfolk weekend was entirely wonderful because it was closely linked to my childhood memories and to the days when my parents were still together. We’d all gather for heavenly weekends with lots of friends, grandparents and children. Could anything be better than that? I don’t think so.

Jemma Redgave is starring in the play The Cherry Orchard, by Anton Chekhov, at Chichester Festival Theatre until next Saturday.

Old interview #1: “Jemma’s survived the curse of Craig”

The Express
December 6, 2003

ONE of the great things about the British film industry is the way it gives young, up-andcoming talents such as Craig Ferguson a chance to make a name for themselves – and then totally blow it.

I’ll Be There, is a particular case in point because not only is Ferguson making his directing debut but he was actually an actor whose career has been blighted by a string of roles in low-budget movies like The Big Tease and Modern Vampires. As the eight other people in the audience of my local cinema will testify on the night I went to see it, I’ll Be There was flat and characterless.

Then, to make things worse, he probably ruined any future movie career prospects for opera singer Charlotte Church. For the uninitiated, in the film she played knackered Eighties rock star Ferguson’s love child who arrives on the scene to halt his downward spiral.
Referring to my notes from that fateful screening, I see: “I’m willing to bet that the first shattered atom split more sedately than the audience rushing out of the auditorium today.”

Presumably, Ferguson also realised how rotten it was and gave up directing.
To my great relief, Jemma Redgrave (she of the great acting dynasty) actually agrees with me.
Let’s face it, she should know, she co-starred in the movie as Charlotte’s reformed groupie mother.

“It’s true, the film was a bomb, ” Jemma admitted. “But it wasn’t a stink bomb. That’s the distinction.
“I don’t give a damn, really. It would have been better for them and, of course, nice for me if it had been a success. But the experience was great. So it doesn’t really matter.”
Tragically, it does when your first film swiftly heads for the bargain basement DVDs bins at Woolies. Though Jemma thinks it would be unfair to drum the flick out of the Brownies altogether.
“It absolutely does what it says on the tin, ” she continued. “It’s charming and funny. The thing is that it’s Charlotte’s first film and I think she’s terrific in it, actually.
“She was very natural and brought a lot of warmth and humour to the part. I think, for a 16 year old in her first film part, she excelled. I couldn’t have done it at 16. I was hugely impressed by her.
“She’s also a delightful young woman. She has got that great Welsh work ethic thing. Hard working, intelligent, funny, sparky. And she sings.
IREMEMBER thinking I didn’t want to work for a while after that I had such a good experience.” You have to be careful what you wish for, don’t you, because Jemma didn’t work for a long while afterwards.

She is back on track now, though, and returns to television in the New Year in the company of another Scot, East Kilbride’s own John Hannah.They star together in ITV’s two-part thriller, Amnesia, in which she plays a marbles-scrambled cop who suspects her memory-scarred husband of having murdered his first wife. And know what? It’s very good.

Thanks to Dawn for this interview. We got more to come so stay tuned…