One of the recurring conflicts of the show is whether Sam is a “good” person or not. In the third episode, Lenny tells Sam something along the lines of, “I knew you had a good heart. A good heart and warm blood don’t mix.” In the finale, when Hector offers Sam a job, I think he says, “I knew you had good in you.” So, for you, is Sam a good person?
That is complex, and something that I spoke to Joe [Barton] about. What he’s doing, shooting people, is connected to some sort of self-destructive impulse… What he wants to do is to be free of this whole business, [which] would mean to stop being self-destructive and open himself to potentially loving somebody, and having some kind of orderly, loving, domestic existence. That’s not what ends up happening. I think it’s a sort of battle in him between good and bad, if you can put it that crudely. But I think that is what’s in everybody.
He keeps talking about this “code” that the other assassins mock him for. But I also think that’s a truthful thing, how you can convince yourself that your actions are justifiable, because there’s this system of thinking which you’ve made all very tidy and orderly within this framework of thought. And he’s got this thing that he’s inherited from his dad, there’s a system of codes… I think he believes that, and he doesn’t believe that. [Laughs.]
Along those lines, I wondered how much the sins of the father played into who he has become by the time the events of the show play out. He quotes his dad: “I never pulled a trigger that didn’t make the world a better place.”
And of course, that seems — [he laughs] — like a bit of grand thing to say. I mean, like, how does he know… it’s again, a justification, that he’s slightly clinging to with some desperation. You can end up spending your life doing something that you hate, and that you don’t want to be doing, and you can feel like your whole life has gone completely the wrong direction. And I think that’s in his mind, too. It’s wrong, but it seems unstoppable.
What makes it interesting, and why I think there could be interesting life in a second season, is because of all this ambiguity we’re talking about. I think that’s rich territory for characters. I like that stuff. Because I think, despite what he says, he must like doing what he does. There must be a thrill.
I loved the flashback scene in episode three when Sam protects Michael as they escape their flat under a hail of gunfire, holding him close — it’s romantic, and has a kind of beauty to it. Can you talk to me about shooting that?
I was given the first three episodes, and that was the sequence that I really loved. Once I’d read that, I think I accepted the job, because I did find it romantic. It was like, “I’d like to watch that.” I don’t feel like I’ve actually seen that before — a queer couple in a situation that’s incredibly violent but also incredibly romantic, and sort of extreme. Filming it was fun. I mean, again, it’s ludicrous, because I managed to kill all of those men. [Laughs.] I managed to get Michael out with barely a scratch. I do get hit, actually…
A couple of times! You’re grazed in the shoulder and shot in the stomach.
You’re quite right, there are some repercussions there. But I was like, I like that we’re in a heightened world, here: this guy’s gonna get out of the building, and save his lover. I love that about Joe’s writing, actually, that he’s just like, “This is going to happen because I’m going to make it happen because I’m the writer.” I’ve worked on so much stuff that’s very much more Earth-bound: you know, kitchen sink drama. But this has a foot in something that’s more fantastical.
