When Ralph Fiennes shows up for an interview, he keeps his eyes lowered. You know it; This way, celebrities who have too much porridge go through the crowds. But this is not the case here, this summer, whose heat is only insufficiently retained from the thick walls of this Nobel Hotel in Munich; In front of the conference package, where interviews are to be held, not even a handful of journalists will witness the arrival of the British actor. But the restrained look, it seems to me, fits in with the reserve and shyness Fiennes says is private. Later, as I look for a more original explanation, it seems to me: he may have to keep up with the intensity of that look that has already lent itself to many characters on stage and on screen. But of course, that would mean freely romanticizing a man.
On the other hand, romanticizing Ralph Fiennes is a sinful sin, especially if you bring in a certain mood. His work is astoundingly broad in both genres and characters; in fact, he came to Munich to receive the Lifetime Achievement Award – at just 56 years old. International first became conspicuous in 1993 as commander of the Amon Göth concentration camp in the "Schindler List"; Millions of viewers know him as James Bond, "M" and seeing from layers of makeup and special effects, as the villain of Lord Voldemort from several Harry Potter films. He was frightening as a cannibal at the "Red Dragon", surprisingly funny at the "Grand Budapest Hotel".
In the theater, where he began his career after briefly flirting with painting, his list of roles is longer than the political failures of Boris Johnson: in the production of Lear, he played the role of young Edmund, in another, years later, the old title hero; for his Hamlet, transplanted from London to Broadway in 1995, he got Tony. Not even in one romantic comedy he tried his hand at "Manhattan Love Story," but looked through the movie as if it had broken the text with his stomach. (Or was it a partner and love interest Jennifer Lopez?)
Yet, despite the magnitude of his artistic endeavors, there is something about the character of Ralph Fiennes that he seems particularly well-created to do without (a fate known by many of his colleagues). "I can play happy too," he told the Guardian. The public is most remembered by his characters, whose weakness is just below the surface, but which rarely but directly shows: an abandoned lover in "The End of the Affair" who loses to God; three men of consecutive generations of families in the touching, underrated drama "Touch of the Sun"; a diplomat at Eternal Gardener, who investigates the violent death of his wife. "Loss," wrote a fellow Guardian. "Ah yes, Ralph Fiennes can play the loss."