The following article was my first effort at writing journalism and the first celebrity interview I ever conducted; I reproduce it intact, save for addressing some non-existent copy editing and failed proofing. After trying to break into writing for the entertainment magazine at my university’s newspaper throughout my freshman year, I was given this assignment early in my sophomore year by the entertainment editor because, in his words, “We’ve been offered an interview with Ian McKellen and nobody here knows who he is.”  Obviously that is unimaginable now, but this was 1981, years before The Lord of The Rings and the X-Men films. Given the path of my theatrical career in the 30 years that followed, there’s tremendous irony in many of my subject’s comments in the first part of the interview; I had completely forgotten them. The thrill of this interview came full circle in 2010, when I recorded an hour-long podcast with Sir Ian in London, even referencing this interview during that conversation.

“As an actor I certainly learn as much from bad acting as I do from good acting, perhaps rather more. It’s easier to see what’s gone wrong when it’s bad,” muses Ian McKellen, discussing the Broadway season which he dominated with his performance in Amadeus. He pauses, thinking. “There must’ve been something I really enjoyed…I think it was a rather lean year and it’s difficult to recommend for most of the people. It seems as usual that as far as plays go, Off-Broadway is more productive than Broadway.” So how does McKellen react to the fame he garnered through his Best Actor in a Play Tony Award for Amadeus while aware of his lack of competition?

“Well, it’s very nice, isn’t it? I try not to believe it,” chuckles McKellen, “because it doesn’t really make any sense. The best dressed man, the most beautiful baby, the most glamorous grandmother…The Best Actor. There is such determination that through The Tony Awards, seen by 250 million people throughout the world, that New York should be advertising its pre-eminence in the show biz stakes. It is a sort of publicity event to publicize New York. And as New York’s fortunes have dipped in the past few years, so the Tonys’ have come up. When one understands that one is caught up in that, it’s easier to keep a sense of proportion.”

Countering this critical view, McKellen continues, “However, everyone is so pleased on your behalf, in England, in the press, the people I meet in the streets. Everyone in New York concerned with getting on seems to see Broadway and anyone who’s on Broadway as a symbol of their own success. It’s wonderful; they’re terribly pleased for you. They’re not envious, they just want to come shake your hand. I think it sort of confirms that they’re on the right lines, that the American Dream won’t die if you work hard enough and, with a bit of luck, you’ll make it.”

McKellen can afford such ideals. A six-year fixture in the Royal Shakespeare Company, a Broadway star in Amadeus and now a film star in Priest of Love (portraying novelist D.H. Lawrence), it would seem that McKellen could well be the next Olivier or Scofield. But he retains a certain humility, casually observing the newfound glitter in his life and the actions of others in the same situation.

“I was backstage with Elizabeth Taylor at The Tony Awards and she was drinking a glass of champagne. She was the only person there who was and I asked her for a sip and she said, ‘You’re going to share a glass with a loser?’ She felt she had lost. It really won’t do if you’re in the business.”

McKellen, coming from a mining town in northern England, began his love of theatre early, acting in amateur productions and going to all the shows he could. But English Lit at Cambridge interfered and McKellen avoided Drama out of insecurity. “I’d seen far too many good actors and I didn’t think I was good enough to be a pro. But one or two people said I was, so I thought I’d give it a whirl. And I’m still whirling.”

That whirling spun McKellen into the Royal Shakespeare Company and then into the London production of Bent, originating the role of Max, the homosexual concentration camp victim made famous in the U.S. by Richard Gere. From Bent he whirled in Amadeus. As Antonio Salieri, the embittered rival of Wolfgang Mozart, McKellen carved a theatrical figure which remains permanently etched on one’s memory. And yet, “It’s the kind of performance which at home I’ve really tried to stop giving,” he notes. Elaborating, McKellen compares the part to 19^thcentury British drama where “reality was more displayed. It was safe to say,” and he bellows, “’The bells, the bells, the bells!’ It was absolutely alright. You know, ‘God’s in his heaven and he’s an Englishman.’ Now we’re not quite so certain about things. It’s a bit more neurotic.” And McKellen prefers the latter style, “this other level of reality.”

This reality is easier to portray in films and that is McKellen’s new direction. Though no plans or contracts are on the horizon, he hopes to work more in movies, since Priest of Love is his first film in 13 years and his first starring role.

“It was a bit unnerving to get up each morning, touch up the beard, dye the hair red, put on the 1920s clothes, look in the mirror and say, ‘Well, good morning D.H. Lawrence.’ But it also feels quite good to walk onto a set and people refer to you as Lawrence rather than as Ian. It’s a bit of a compliment.”

Clearly enamored of the character of D.H. Lawrence, McKellen expresses many views on Lawrence’s life, his portrayal and his own life.

“I can understand all the constrictions which he felt in that small northern community. The puritanicalism which he kept throughout his life, which I’ve got inside of me, which I keep measuring myself up against.”

“There was another strand of his character that was very appealing to me, for me to be understandable of course, is that he loved acting. He loved the music hall, the red-nosed comics, vaudeville. He was obviously often aware of the effect he was having. He wasn’t the retired little actor.”

“There was evidence that Lawrence’s heterosexuality wasn’t as secure as he presented it. There were many young men in his life that he was obviously attracted by, not saying that he slept with them. I don’t think he ever admitted to himself that he could be a homosexual, but I think he was. Or maybe bisexual, but  not practicing.” More personally, he adds, “I don’t see much difference between homosexuality and heterosexuality. They seem to be about the same. If you’re in love, you’re in love. If you’re having sex, you’re having sex.”

Despite his fame and brilliance, Ian McKellen remains personable and direct. In discussing Lawrence’s attraction to his wife and hers to him, he remarks, eyes sparkling, “Oh well, maybe they just liked fucking.”