“It wasn’t all Blitz spirit and ‘Let’s have a cup of tea.’ That’s a crock of shit”: Kathy Burke on Steve McQueen’s Blitz

Kathy Burke will never do anything she doesn’t want to do. Unfortunately for the rest of us, that includes acting – most of the time. Throughout the 1990s, she was one of the most recognisable faces in British comedy. You couldn’t turn on a TV without catching a glimpse of her as the brilliantly horrible Linda in Gimme Gimme Gimme (1999–2001) or as hangdog teenage boy Perry – a part she embodied with unbelievably funny, Stanislavskian conviction – in Harry Enfield and Chums (1990-1997). And when the mood took her, she’d remind us of her range in scene-stealing dramatic roles, such as the unspeaking, mistreated Martha in Danny Boyle’s period piece Mr Wroe’s Virgins (1993), or her devastating, naturalistic turn as Valerie, a victim of domestic abuse, in Gary Oldman’s Nil by Mouth, which won her the Best Actress award at Cannes in 1997. And she was every bit as memorable as Cate Blanchett’s monarch as a sickly Mary Tudor in Elizabeth (1998). Then, at the height of her powers, Burke pretty much retired from acting to focus on directing theatre. 

In April 2000, Sight and Sound ran the cover story ‘Kathy Burke’s better parts’, questioning why we don’t see this talented working class actress in more interesting film roles. The answer nowadays – at least, in part – is that she doesn’t bloody want them. “The older I’ve got, the less I want to do acting,” she tells me in our recent phone interview. Though she’s directed TV (most recently, an adaptation of Graham Norton’s novel Holding, in 2022) she’s never had the urge to take on a feature film. “I always found the bigness of it too much. This is why I like directing theatre. There’s not vast sums of money involved.” But every now and then, she can be coaxed to appear on the big screen, filled with mischief and memorable lines (who can forget Connie Sachs in 2011’s Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy: “I don’t know about you George, but I am feeling seriously underfucked”). When she takes a role, it’s like seeing a wonderful, enigmatic aunt who mostly keeps to herself but arrives on your doorstep every few Christmasses “I can send you some money in a card every time I appear!” she laughs, when I tell her this. 

Steve McQueen is the latest in a short line of directors to convince Burke to return to set. His film Blitz, which opens this year’s BFI London Film Festival, is a large-scale World War II drama seen through the eyes of a young boy navigating the bombed out streets of London. Burke has a small, menacing role as Beryl, a London gang-leader who, alongside Stephen Merchant’s Albert, gleans wreckage (and bodies) for swag in the aftermath of Blitz raids. “I thought, ‘Oh, she’s lovely and horrible.‘ I liked how horrible she was”. It’s a fittingly morbid part for Burke, who is so comfortable talking about death – her podcast Where There’s a Will There’s a Wake involves asking guests ‘how they’d like to peg it’ and what they’d do for their funeral. But it was the thought of working with McQueen, who she has admired since seeing his Turner-prize winning film Deadpan (1997), that really attracted her to the project: “Once every 10 years, if one of these geniuses asks me to just pop in for a couple of days, then I’m really happy to do so, you know?”

At the end of our conversation, when I tell Burke I’ll be waiting for that moment when she decides to pop up on screen again, she cackles down the phone: “Don’t hold your breath!”

Katie McCabe: When you decided to step away from acting, I remember you saying that you just didn’t have ‘that feeling’ in your belly anymore – you didn’t like the poking and prodding and feeling miserable on set. What was it about Steve McQueen’s Blitz that convinced you that this was time to go back to the big screen for a bit?

Kathy Burke: I’ve just always been fascinated by Steve McQueen and a great admirer of him. I sort of felt I couldn’t say no to meeting him. I didn’t think I’d be interested in taking part… But we had a really lovely cup of tea, and he didn’t realise I was of Irish heritage. He nearly got a slap, for not knowing that, where have you been, you know? And then he basically said, “Look, we’re doing a little table read in about half an hour. Can you come along?” And I thought, yeah, why not? I listened to the film being read out loud and I just loved it. It reminded me of being a kid. It’s one of them films… you’ve got George [Elliott Heffernan] taking us all the way through the story. If I [watched it] when I was 10 years old, it would make me want to work in film. 

There was a granny in the original script that I think he wanted me to play. And then a couple of weeks later, I got the message through, saying, no, the granny’s gone. He’s killed the granny [laughs]. But there’s this other character, Beryl. I thought, ‘Oh, she’s lovely and horrible.’ I liked how horrible she was. And I liked the fact that it would mean also teaming up with Stephen Graham. I love the bones of Stephen Graham. We just became a real tight little gang. Listen, I’ll be honest, I hated it [being on set again]. Everything I don’t like about being an actor, happened, but it was great to work with McQueen.

Can you remember when you first became aware of Steve McQueen? 

When he won the Turner Prize [for his 1997 short film Deadpan]. I remember seeing that and thinking, ‘I’m keeping an eye out for him.’ And then the next thing I knew, he did Hunger [2008]. I saw an interview he did, where he said he’d been questioned on why a young Black man from London was so interested in Bobby Sands. And I mean, what he’s put up with over the years – the fucking questions he gets asked – but he was so gentlemanly. And he said, “Look, when I was a kid, I was interested in Tottenham Hotspur football club and Bobby Sands, because he was constantly on the news.” I thought that was great. And then, I saw the film, and it just blew me away. 

There’s a scene in Blitz where your character Beryl loots dead bodies and jokes around in the aftermath of the Café de Paris bombing. In your podcast Where There’s a Will There’s a Wake, you speak very openly – and comedically – about death. How much of that comic, morbid fascination did you bring to Beryl?

You just get into the dark headspace of those people at the time, who were surrounded by death. I suppose it just became the norm to them. They’re horrible but they’re just trying to survive as well at the end of the day. So, it really did appeal to me, that scene.

We’re all only a few steps away from being a Beryl, given the right situation…

Oh, my goodness, yes. It’s the truth of what happened, you know? I think there’s too much looking at the past through rose-coloured spectacles. It’s incredibly harmful to rewrite history. We have to show the truth of human brutality and what humans will do to each other to survive. I really loved what Steve was trying to do with this movie, that it wasn’t all Blitz spirit, and “Let’s have a cup of tea.” That’s a crock of shit. I imagine that most of the time, people were absolutely terrified, as people are in any war-torn place. Fear, I think, is at the forefront. Fear and survival. 

You’ve spoken a lot in the past about how you love to play nasty, comedically gruesome characters. What draws you to them? 

They’re just more fun to play, at the end of the day. After I did Nil by Mouth, I got offered a hell of a lot of mums – kind mums. And kind mums are wonderful, but they’re very fucking boring to play, you know what I mean? 

Things have changed in the last 20 years, in that women are very much able to write for themselves now. It wasn’t really the case when I was acting. And now you’ve got your Michaela Coels, you’ve got your Phoebe Waller-Bridges, but back then it was very rare. It was only really in comedy, as far as I remember, [with] people like Jennifer Saunders.

After dedicating so much of your life to directing theatre, what was it like for you, working with McQueen and dealing with another director’s style on set?

Oh, well, you know, I’m a good girl. I do as I’m told, it’s his vision. I didn’t really want to improvise, but he was insistent on that. I just feel very lucky, because I do what I want, not what I have to do… I mean, I am a bit of an old bag, if the set is too noisy and stuff, I will fucking shout out for them to shut up. I take no prisoners. I feel everyone should have respect for the director. Myself included.

Do you have a desire to direct a feature film in the future?

Well, you know what? No [laughs]. I never have done. In the early days, you know, 30 years ago, when suddenly I was a bit of a name, there was lots of scripts coming my way for me to direct. I always found the bigness of it too much. This is why I like directing theatre, because it’s small. I’d love to direct another play before I get too old. But like I said before I sort of feel… how can I put this without sounding like a total wanker? I am in a position every human strives for, I think, which is total freedom. I have freedom of choice. I’m okay, I’ve got money, I’ve got a roof over my head. So, I do feel very lucky. But I will never forget my roots. I will never forget what it’s like to be skint. 

I often think about Anna Scher [of the Anna Scher Theatre], how she supported actors like Dexter Fletcher, Daniel Kaluuya and yourself through community theatre. The number of working class creatives in UK film and TV is the lowest in a decade. What do you feel would help turn the tide?

We need more places like Anna Scher’s. We need more youth clubs. We just need more outlets for young people. I think we’ve just gone very ‘Oh, well, young people like to stay home and look at their phones.’ Well, they do that if there aren’t other choices. I think it’s all become a little bit complacent. Who knows what this new government will do? The first thing they’ve got to do is cap the rents on private landlords. I’m not saying all landlords are bad, but some in the last 15 years or so have just taken complete advantage of the system. And I think it’s disgusting the way young people are being ripped off. It’s got to start with things like that, with looking at rents… When I started out, things were cheaper. I could go to further education because I got a grant. There were more opportunities. Fringe theatre was massive in the 1980s. It really was a great, cheap springboard to do your own work. 

You’ve talked about how you spend 90% of your time on your own. Are you much of a cinema goer? What kind of cinema goer are you? 

It’s very rare that I want to see a film on the big screen. I’ve become quite lazy in my old age. If you’d have told me when I was a kid that when you get to 60 you can watch all the fucking television you want, I would be like: “That’s the dream.” I’m still getting a real kick out of things being available at home. I did see Anatomy of a Fall [2023] and The Zone of Interest [2023], they were the two films that I wanted to see at the cinema. I’m really looking forward to Hard Truths because my great friend Marianne Jean-Baptiste is the lead in that. I just think she’s one of our greatest actors, and to see her again in a lead role – I mean, she did In Fabric [2018], so fucking bonkers, and I just thought she was glorious. I’m not going to the gala. I don’t do any of that stuff anymore. I’ll go see it at the Screen on the Green [in Islington]. 

In the past, you’ve said that awards haven’t really meant much to you. Our columnist, Pamela Hutchinson, recently argued that it’s outrageous that you’ve never won a BAFTA. How do you feel about awards today?

Well, I still feel the same way. I remember a journalist saying to me, “Well, it’s all very well for you to say that, because you’ve won awards, right?” I thought that’s a good point. Maybe I wouldn’t feel like this, if I hadn’t got Best Actress at Cannes or whatever. I’m not a member of BAFTA. I’m a bit like Groucho Marx, never joining the club that would have me as a member. As I get older, I’m really happy for other people. I loved it when Olivia Colman got an Oscar. I just thought that was so fucking great, it made my day. And I’ve only met Olivia a couple of times. She’s not like a dear friend or anything, but I like it when I see other people succeed, and get rewarded. But when it comes to myself, I’m really not arsed. They take up a lot of clutter. 

Is your Cannes Best Actress prize still up in your friend’s bathroom in Manchester? 

Yes, the Cannes award, it’s in Antony Cotton’s toilet in Manchester. It gets seen by more people, because I’m quite solitary. I don’t really get people around as much as I used to. But Antony’s still got a lot of in and out. More people will see it!