James McAvoy: The Life Story Behind the Scottish Star

12:00 PM PKT 29 min read

James McAvoy, UK actor star, portrait for the life story biography
In this post
  1. Drumchapel: A Glasgow Childhood in Two Houses
  2. The Near Room, White Teeth and the London Years
  3. Steve McBride: Shameless and the First Fame
  4. The Last King of Scotland and Atonement: The Film Star Arrives
  5. Charles Xavier: The X-Men Years
  6. Filth, Split and the Darker Roles
  7. Stage, Cyrano and the Return to Theatre
  8. My Take:

Drumchapel: A Glasgow Childhood in Two Houses

James McAvoy was born on 21 April 1979 in Glasgow, Scotland, in the Port Dundas area of the city, and his childhood was shaped by a family that split and reformed around him. His parents separated when he was seven years old, and he went to live with his maternal grandparents in Drumchapel, a housing estate on the western edge of Glasgow that was built after the war and that, in the 1980s, was known for poverty, unemployment and a fierce local pride. His grandparents raised him, and he has spoken about them with a warmth that suggests they gave him the stability his parents, for reasons of their own, could not. Drumchapel was not an easy place to grow up, but it was a place with a strong community, and a boy growing up there learned to read people quickly, to be funny to survive, and to notice the small details of how people speak and move.

Glasgow in the 1980s was a city in transition, its shipyards closing, its industries shrinking, its people adapting to a new economy that did not always have room for them. A boy in Drumchapel saw that change up close, in the lives of his neighbours, in the closed factories, in the men who had worked all their lives and were suddenly without work. McAvoy absorbed that world, and it gave him an ear for the way Glaswegians speak, for the humour that is also a defence, and for the anger that sits underneath the joke. That ear would become the most valuable tool of his career, because the characters he plays best are the ones who use humour to hide what they feel, and who reveal themselves in a single, unguarded line.

He attended St Thomas Aquinas Secondary School in Glasgow, a Catholic school, and he was, by his own account, a good student who did not know what he wanted to do. He thought about becoming a priest, briefly, and he thought about joining the navy, and he did not think about acting, because acting was not a job that boys from Drumchapel did. The idea arrived, as it often does, by accident: a visit to his school by the director David Hayman, who was casting a film and who asked if any of the boys wanted to try out, and McAvoy, who had never acted, put his hand up. The film was The Near Room, released in 1995, and McAvoy, at sixteen, played a small part as a rent boy, a role that was dark and difficult and that he has described as a shock to his system.

The Near Room did not make him famous, and it did not make him want to be an actor, not immediately. What it did was show him that acting was a real job, done by real people, and that he could do it, even if he did not yet know how. He went back to school, he finished his education, and then he applied to the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama in Glasgow, now the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland, and he was accepted. The decision was a leap, because it meant leaving Drumchapel for a world of voice lessons, movement classes and Shakespeare, and it meant believing that a boy from a Glasgow housing estate could become an actor. He believed it, and the school believed it too, and he graduated in 2000, ready to work.

The Near Room, White Teeth and the London Years

After drama school, McAvoy worked steadily in British television and theatre, building a career the slow way, one small role at a time. He appeared in the BBC adaptation of Zadie Smith’s novel White Teeth in 2002, playing Josh Malfen, and he worked in the theatre, in Glasgow and in London, learning the discipline of the stage. He was not a star, and he did not expect to be one. He was a working actor, and the work was good, and the pay was enough to live on, and that was, for a young man from Drumchapel, already a success.

The role that began to change things was in the BBC political thriller State of Play in 2003, in which he played Dan Foster, a young journalist working for a newspaper editor played by Bill Nighy, in a story about murder, politics and the press. The series was a critical success, and it showed that McAvoy could hold his own in an ensemble of experienced actors, and that he had a screen presence that the camera liked. The same year he appeared in the film Bright Young Things, and he began to be noticed by casting directors who were looking for a young Scottish actor with energy and range.

The London years were also when he learned the practical side of the profession: the auditions, the rejections, the months without work, the flats shared with other actors, the feeling of being one of hundreds of talented young men competing for the same few roles. He has spoken about those years without bitterness, as a necessary apprenticeship, and as a time when he learned to be patient, to keep working, and to trust that the right role would come. The patience was not passive. He was working, in the theatre, on television, in small films, and he was getting better with every job, and the people who saw him work remembered him.

The theatre was particularly important in these years, because it taught him the discipline that film and television cannot teach. On stage, there is no second take, no editing, no camera to hide behind. An actor has to be ready, every night, and McAvoy learned to be ready. He appeared in productions in London and in Glasgow, and he built a reputation as a stage actor who could be trusted, who knew his lines, who listened to the other actors, and who gave the audience a performance worth the price of the ticket. That reputation would matter later, when he returned to the stage as a star, because the theatre world remembered him as one of its own.

Steve McBride: Shameless and the First Fame

The role that made James McAvoy famous in Britain was Steve McBride in the Channel 4 series Shameless, which began in 2004. Steve was a car thief, a young man from a rough background who falls in love with Fiona Gallagher, played by Anne-Marie Duff, and who tries, in his own way, to be a better man. The show was set on a fictional housing estate in Manchester, and it was raw, funny, angry and tender, a portrait of working-class life that British television had rarely attempted. McAvoy played Steve with a charm and a vulnerability that made the audience root for him, even when he was stealing cars, and the role made him a household name in Britain.

Shameless was a turning point for another reason: it was where he met Anne-Marie Duff, who would become his wife. They married in 2006, and they had a son together, and the marriage lasted for ten years, until their divorce in 2016. The relationship was, by all accounts, a loving one, and the divorce was handled with a dignity that is rare in the public eye, with both parties asking for privacy and continuing to co-parent their son. McAvoy has always been careful about his private life, and the marriage and its ending are part of the story, but they are not the story, and he has kept them that way.

The success of Shameless brought him film offers, and he took them, moving between television and cinema with an ease that surprised people who had only seen him on Channel 4. He appeared in the film The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe in 2005, playing Mr Tumnus, the faun who befriends Lucy, in a performance that was entirely different from Steve McBride. Tumnus was gentle, frightened, kind, and McAvoy played him with a warmth that made the character one of the most loved in the film. The film was a global hit, and it introduced him to an audience of children and families around the world, an audience that would follow him for years.

The Narnia role also showed his range, and it showed that he was not going to be typecast as a working-class hero. He could play a faun, a journalist, a car thief, and he could play each one convincingly, because he approached each role as a person, not as a type. That range is the most valuable thing an actor can have, and McAvoy had it from the start, and the roles that followed would test it again and again.

The Last King of Scotland and Atonement: The Film Star Arrives

The year 2006 brought the role that made James McAvoy a film star. In The Last King of Scotland, directed by Kevin Macdonald, he played Dr Nicholas Garrigan, a young Scottish doctor who travels to Uganda and becomes the personal physician to the dictator Idi Amin, played by Forest Whitaker in an Oscar-winning performance. Garrigan is naive, ambitious, and gradually horrified by the man he serves, and McAvoy played him as a young man who believes he is doing good and discovers, too late, that he is part of something evil. The film was a critical success, and Whitaker won the Academy Award for Best Actor, and McAvoy’s performance was praised as the equal of his co-star’s, a young actor holding his own opposite one of the great performances of the decade.

The following year brought Atonement, directed by Joe Wright and based on the novel by Ian McEwan, in which McAvoy played Robbie Turner, the son of a housekeeper who is falsely accused of a crime and whose life is destroyed by a child’s lie. The film, which co-starred Keira Knightley and Saoirse Ronan, was a major critical and commercial success, and McAvoy was nominated for the BAFTA Award for Best Actor and for a Golden Globe, and he won the BAFTA Rising Star Award in 2006, the year before. Robbie Turner is a role that requires an actor to be romantic, to be angry, to be broken, and to be dignified, and McAvoy played all of it, in a performance that is still considered one of his finest. The five-minute tracking shot on the beach at Dunkirk, in which Robbie walks through the chaos of the evacuation, is one of the most famous sequences in modern British cinema, and McAvoy carries it without a word of dialogue.

These two films, made back to back, established him as a leading man in British cinema, and as an actor who could carry a serious film. He was no longer the boy from Shameless. He was a film star, and the offers that followed reflected that. He appeared in Wanted in 2008, an action film with Angelina Jolie, in which he played an ordinary man who discovers he is the son of an assassin, and the film was a commercial hit, showing that he could also carry an action movie. He appeared in The Last Station in 2009, playing Valentin Bulgakov, the secretary to Leo Tolstoy, opposite Helen Mirren and Christopher Plummer, in a performance that showed his ability to work in a period drama with great actors.

The range of these years is remarkable: a doctor in Uganda, a falsely accused lover in England, an assassin in Chicago, a secretary to Tolstoy in Russia. Few actors can move between such different worlds, and McAvoy did it without ever seeming out of place, because he approached each role with the same seriousness, the same preparation, and the same willingness to disappear into the character. That is the mark of a great actor, and it is why the decade that followed would give him some of the most varied roles of any British actor of his generation.

Charles Xavier: The X-Men Years

In 2011 McAvoy took on the role that would define him for a global audience: Charles Xavier, the young Professor X, in X-Men: First Class, directed by Matthew Vaughn. The film was a prequel to the X-Men series, telling the story of how Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr, played by Michael Fassbender, became friends and then enemies, and how the X-Men came to be. McAvoy played Xavier as a young, charming, optimistic man, a telepath who believes that humans and mutants can live together, and who has not yet become the wise, wheelchair-bound professor of the earlier films. The performance was a delight, and the chemistry between McAvoy and Fassbender became the heart of the film, and of the series that followed.

He reprised the role in X-Men: Days of Future Past in 2014, in which the older Xavier, played by Patrick Stewart, sends Wolverine back in time to meet the younger Xavier, and McAvoy played a broken, drug-addicted version of the character, a man who has lost his faith and his legs and his hope, and who has to find them again. The performance was darker, more painful, and more impressive than the first, and it showed that McAvoy could take a comic-book character and give him a real inner life. He returned for X-Men: Apocalypse in 2016 and for Dark Phoenix in 2019, completing a run of four films as Xavier, over eight years, in a franchise that earned billions of dollars around the world.

The X-Men years made him a global star, and they also gave him a financial security that allowed him to choose his other roles freely. He used that freedom well, appearing in films that were small, strange and risky, alongside the blockbusters, and refusing to let the franchise define him. He has spoken about the responsibility of playing a character created by Patrick Stewart, and about the pressure of living up to an audience’s expectations, and he handled it with a grace that is easy to miss, because he never complained about the role, never distanced himself from it, and never treated it as beneath him. He played Xavier as a real person, and the audience believed him, and that is why the character worked.

The friendship with Michael Fassbender, forged on the X-Men set, became one of the most talked-about partnerships in modern cinema, and the two actors have spoken about each other with affection and respect. Their scenes together, in First Class and in Days of Future Past, are the best in the films, because they are scenes between two actors who trust each other, who listen to each other, and who are willing to be vulnerable. That trust is rare, and it is the reason the Xavier and Magneto relationship feels real, even in a film about mutants and time travel.

Filth, Split and the Darker Roles

While he was playing Xavier, McAvoy was also taking on roles that were darker, stranger and more demanding, and the most notorious of them was in Filth, released in 2013, based on the novel by Irvine Welsh. He played Bruce Robertson, a corrupt, drug-addicted, manipulative Edinburgh police detective who is also funny, charming and deeply damaged, and the performance was a tour de force, a man falling apart in front of the camera, speaking directly to the audience, breaking the fourth wall, and daring the viewer to like him. He won the British Independent Film Award for Best Actor for the role, and the film became a cult favourite, a portrait of a man who is his own worst enemy.

The darker roles continued with Split, released in 2016 and directed by M. Night Shyamalan, in which McAvoy played Kevin Wendell Crumb, a man with dissociative identity disorder who has twenty-three distinct personalities, and who kidnaps three teenage girls. The performance required him to switch between personalities in a single scene, sometimes in a single line, playing a child, a woman, a fastidious man, a violent beast, and he did it with a virtuosity that stunned audiences and critics. The film was a major commercial success, and it led to Glass in 2019, in which he reprised the role alongside Bruce Willis and Samuel L. Jackson. Split is now considered one of his defining performances, and it showed a range that few actors possess.

These roles matter because they show what McAvoy does best: he plays men who are broken, who are dangerous, who are funny and frightening at the same time, and he plays them without judgement. Bruce Robertson is not a good man, and Kevin Crumb is not a safe man, but McAvoy makes the audience understand them, and that understanding is not forgiveness. It is recognition, the recognition that human beings are complicated, and that a man can be charming and cruel, vulnerable and violent, in the same breath. That is a difficult thing to play, and it is why these performances are remembered.

The darker roles also show his willingness to take risks. He could have spent the X-Men years playing heroes, and the industry would have let him, but he chose to play villains, addicts, and men with fractured minds, and he chose them because they were interesting, not because they were safe. That willingness to be unlikeable, to be frightening, to be wrong, is the mark of an actor who trusts his talent, and it is why his career has lasted while other franchise stars have faded.

Stage, Cyrano and the Return to Theatre

Throughout his film career, McAvoy has returned to the theatre, and the stage has given him some of his most acclaimed performances. In 2013 he played Macbeth at Trafalgar Studios in London, in a production that set the play in a post-apocalyptic Scotland and that was praised for its intensity and its energy. In 2015 he played the lead in The Ruling Class at Trafalgar Studios, a performance that earned him an Olivier Award nomination. In 2019 he played Cyrano de Bergerac at the Playhouse Theatre in London, in a new version by Martin Crimp, directed by Jamie Lloyd, and the performance was widely described as one of the great stage performances of the decade, earning him another Olivier nomination and a transfer to New York.

Cyrano was a particular triumph, because the role requires an actor to be romantic, witty, brave and heartbroken, often in the same scene, and McAvoy played it with a physicality and a verbal dexterity that left audiences breathless. The production used modern language, minimal sets, and a cast that spoke directly to the audience, and McAvoy, as Cyrano, held the whole thing together with a performance that was both classical and completely modern. The show sold out, it transferred, it was filmed for cinema, and it confirmed what the theatre world had always known: that McAvoy is, first and foremost, a stage actor, and that the stage is where he is at his best.

The theatre also matters to him personally, because it is where he learned his craft, and because it is where he feels most at home. He has spoken about the difference between film and theatre, about the immediacy of a live audience, about the discipline of performing the same play every night, and about the joy of a company of actors working together. He has also used his position to support theatre, appearing in productions that might not otherwise have been funded, and bringing audiences to the theatre who came to see a film star and stayed to see a play. That is a real contribution, and it is one that the theatre world appreciates.

In recent years he has also moved behind the camera, making his directorial debut with the film California Schemin’, which premiered in 2025, a story about two Scottish men who pretend to be American rappers. The film was a personal project, a comedy about identity and ambition, and it showed that McAvoy’s ambitions extend beyond acting, to telling stories of his own, in his own voice, about the Scotland he grew up in. The directing debut is the latest chapter in a career that has always been about growth, and it suggests that the next decade will be as interesting as the last.

My Take:

What I admire most about James McAvoy is the range, and I want to be specific about what that range means, because it is easy to say an actor has range and hard to show it. In the space of a few years, he played a corrupt Edinburgh detective, a young Professor X, a man with twenty-three personalities, a romantic hero in Atonement, and a faun in Narnia. Those are not variations on a theme. They are different jobs, requiring different skills, different voices, different bodies, and he did all of them well. I think about how many actors can do one of those things, and how few can do all of them, and I think the answer is: almost none. McAvoy can, and that is why his career is worth studying.

I also think his Glasgow childhood matters more than the biographies usually allow. A boy who grows up in Drumchapel, raised by his grandparents, in a city that was losing its industries, learns to read people, to be funny, to be tough, and to notice the small details of how people speak. That is the whole of McAvoy’s talent, in a single sentence: he notices people, and he shows you what he noticed. Robbie Turner is a boy who is falsely accused, and McAvoy plays him with the dignity of a boy from Drumchapel who knows what it feels like to be judged. Bruce Robertson is a man who is falling apart, and McAvoy plays him with the humour of a Glaswegian who knows that a joke is also a defence. The city is in the work, and it is there because he grew up in it.

Atonement is the film I return to most, because it is the clearest example of what he can do when the material is worthy of him. Robbie Turner is a romantic hero, a soldier, a victim, and a man who dies believing that the woman he loves has forgiven him, and McAvoy plays all of it without ever becoming sentimental. The Dunkirk sequence, in which he walks through the beach without speaking, is one of the great pieces of acting in modern British cinema, because it is acting without words, without tricks, without anything except a man’s face and a camera. I find that sequence genuinely moving, and I think it is the reason the film works: the audience believes Robbie, and they believe him because McAvoy believes him.

The Last King of Scotland is the other film I think about, because it shows a young actor holding his own opposite a great performance. Forest Whitaker won the Oscar for playing Idi Amin, and he deserved it, but the film would not work without McAvoy’s Garrigan, the naive doctor who is drawn into Amin’s world and who has to learn, too late, what he has become part of. McAvoy plays Garrigan as a young man who believes he is doing good, and the horror of the film is watching that belief collapse. I think that is a harder role than Amin, in some ways, because Amin is a monster and Garrigan is an ordinary man, and ordinary men are harder to play than monsters. McAvoy played him honestly, and the film is better for it.

Split is the performance that I think will be remembered longest, because it is a technical marvel. Twenty-three personalities, in a single film, sometimes in a single scene, each one distinct, each one believable, each one played without a costume change or a special effect. I have watched actors attempt multiple personalities before, and most of them fail, because they play the idea of a personality rather than the person. McAvoy plays the person, every time, and the audience can tell the difference. The child is a child, the woman is a woman, the beast is a beast, and the man underneath them all is Kevin, frightened and alone. That is not a trick. That is acting, at the highest level, and it is why Split is a defining film for him.

Filth is the film I admire for its courage, because Bruce Robertson is not a likeable man, and McAvoy does not try to make him likeable. He plays him as he is: corrupt, addicted, manipulative, funny, and deeply damaged, and he trusts the audience to stay with a character who does not deserve their sympathy. That trust is rare, and it is the mark of an actor who is not afraid of being disliked. I think about how many actors would have softened Bruce, would have given him a redeeming moment, would have asked the audience to forgive him. McAvoy does not, and the film is stronger for it, because it is honest about what a broken man looks like, and it does not offer easy answers.

The X-Men films are the part of the story that I think about when I consider his judgement, because he could have treated Xavier as a job, as a franchise, as a pay cheque, and he did not. He played Xavier as a real person, with a real inner life, and he gave the character a journey, from the optimistic young man of First Class to the broken man of Days of Future Past, and back to the leader he becomes. I think that is the reason the films work as well as they do, because the audience cares about Xavier, and they care because McAvoy cared. He also formed a genuine partnership with Michael Fassbender, and their scenes together are the best in the franchise, because they are scenes between two actors who trust each other. That trust is visible, and it is the reason the relationship feels real.

Cyrano de Bergerac is the performance that I would show to anyone who doubts that McAvoy is a stage actor first. The role requires wit, romance, bravery and heartbreak, often in the same breath, and McAvoy played it with a physicality and a verbal skill that left audiences breathless. I think the stage is where he is happiest, because it is where he learned his craft, and because it is where an actor cannot hide. There is no editing, no second take, no camera to do the work for you. There is a man, on a stage, speaking to a room full of strangers, and McAvoy does that better than almost anyone alive. The Olivier nominations are the formal recognition, but the real recognition is the audience, night after night, standing to applaud.

I also respect the way he has handled his private life, because it has not been easy. His parents separated when he was seven, he was raised by his grandparents, his marriage to Anne-Marie Duff ended after ten years, and he has kept all of it private, without turning it into a story for the press. I think that is a form of courage, and it is a form of respect, for himself, for his family, and for the audience, who do not need to know everything to appreciate the work. The work is public. The life is not, and the separation is what allows both to survive. I think younger actors should learn from that, because the pressure to share everything is enormous, and the decision to keep something back is a decision that protects the person behind the performance.

The directorial debut, California Schemin’, is something I find genuinely exciting, because it suggests that McAvoy’s ambitions are still growing. A story about two Scottish men who pretend to be American rappers is a comedy about identity, about ambition, about the gap between who we are and who we pretend to be, and it is a story that only a Scottish actor could tell with that kind of authority. I think the film is a sign that he is not content to be only an actor, and that he wants to tell stories of his own, in his own voice, about the Scotland he grew up in. I expect the directing to continue, and I expect it to be as interesting as the acting, because the man behind the camera is the same man who has been in front of it for twenty-five years, and he has learned a great deal.

What I take from the whole story, finally, is a picture of a career built on seriousness. McAvoy takes the work seriously, whether it is a blockbuster or a small play, a comic-book film or a period drama, and the audience can tell. He prepares, he rehearses, he listens, and he gives the performance everything he has, and then he goes home, and he does it again tomorrow. That is not a glamorous story, but it is an honest one, and it is the story that explains why he is still here, still working, still surprising people, after twenty-five years. The boy from Drumchapel became one of the great actors of his generation, and he did it by taking the work seriously, one role at a time.

If I were recommending James McAvoy to a new viewer, I would start with Atonement, because it shows his romantic soul, and then I would watch Split, because it shows his technical brilliance, and then I would watch Filth, because it shows his courage, and then I would see Cyrano on stage, if I could, because it shows his heart. That is my honest path through his work, and I think it gives a new viewer the four corners of the story: the lover, the virtuoso, the risk-taker and the stage actor. Each one is real, and each one is worth your time, and together they make a career that is among the finest of any British actor alive.

I also think about what he means for Scotland, because he is one of the most famous Scottish actors in the world, and he has never hidden where he came from. He speaks with a Glasgow accent in interviews, he talks about Drumchapel, he returns to Scotland for work, and he has kept his Scottish identity at the centre of his public life. That matters, because it tells young Scottish actors that they do not have to become English to succeed, and it tells the world that Scotland produces actors of the highest quality. He is a Scottish star, and he is proud of it, and the pride is justified.

Finally, I want to say why this story stays with me. It stays with me because it is a story about a boy who was raised by his grandparents in a housing estate, who was discovered by accident, who went to drama school, who worked in the theatre, who became famous on television, who became a film star, who became a superhero, who played a man with twenty-three personalities, and who is now directing films of his own. That is not a straight line. It is a winding road, and it is a road that was walked with patience, with seriousness, and with a refusal to settle. The boy from Drumchapel is still walking it, and I expect the next chapter to be as interesting as the last.

I also think about the voice, because McAvoy’s voice is one of the great instruments of modern British acting. He can be soft, he can be furious, he can be funny, he can be broken, and he can do it all in a Glasgow accent that he has never tried to hide. The voice is the reason his radio work, his voice work in animation, and his stage work all succeed, and it is the reason the audience recognises him before they see him. A voice like that is a gift, and he has used it well, in every medium, without ever letting it become a trick.

One more thought, about the future. He is still young, in acting terms, and he has already played a faun, a detective, a professor, a killer, a romantic hero and a man with twenty-three minds. What is left? Almost everything, and that is the exciting part. The directors who have not yet worked with him will come, the plays he has not yet played will be offered, and the films he has not yet directed will be made. I expect the second half of his career to be as varied as the first, and I expect it to surprise me, because the pattern so far is that the most interesting thing he does is always the thing nobody expected him to do next.

Frequently Asked Questions

Where did James McAvoy grow up?

He was born on 21 April 1979 in Glasgow, Scotland, and after his parents separated when he was seven, he was raised by his maternal grandparents in Drumchapel, a housing estate on the western edge of the city. He attended St Thomas Aquinas Secondary School in Glasgow.

How did James McAvoy start acting?

He was cast in the film The Near Room in 1995 at sixteen, after the director David Hayman visited his school looking for young actors. He then trained at the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama in Glasgow, graduating in 2000, before working in British television and theatre.

What was James McAvoy’s breakthrough role?

His breakthrough in Britain was Steve McBride in the Channel 4 series Shameless from 2004, and his breakthrough in film was Dr Nicholas Garrigan in The Last King of Scotland in 2006, followed by Robbie Turner in Atonement in 2007, for which he received a BAFTA Best Actor nomination.

How many personalities did James McAvoy play in Split?

He played Kevin Wendell Crumb, a man with dissociative identity disorder who has twenty-three distinct personalities, in the 2016 film Split directed by M. Night Shyamalan. He reprised the role in Glass in 2019.

Did James McAvoy play Professor X in X-Men?

Yes, he played the young Charles Xavier in X-Men: First Class in 2011, and reprised the role in Days of Future Past in 2014, Apocalypse in 2016 and Dark Phoenix in 2019, alongside Michael Fassbender as Magneto.

Has James McAvoy directed a film?

Yes, he made his directorial debut with California Schemin’, which premiered in 2025, a comedy about two Scottish men who pretend to be American rappers. He has also had acclaimed stage roles, including Cyrano de Bergerac in London in 2019.

Sources

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