Party-boy Farrell 'next big thing'

By Susan Wloszczyna
USA Today

Colin Farrell, the swift-rising and hard-drinking Irish actor who has a Velcro touch with the ladies, became a national joke at the Oscars show.

"I don't take myself seriously," actor Colin Farrell said. "I take the work seriously."

Then came the jab: "Next stop, rehab."

Farrell, to his credit, had a rejoinder at the ready: "I was going to say, 'Steve, you don't know how close to the truth you are,' but that would be a lie."

Yep, his rep is laughable. But career-wise, Farrell is sitting as pretty as he appears on the screen.

Already this year, the Dublin-based heartthrob who's been "the next big thing" ever since his praised-but-little-seen performance as a cocky Texas soldier in 2000's "Tigerland," has tucked two No. 1 box-office hits under his belt — CIA thriller "The Recruit" and superhero adventure "Daredevil."

He held his own opposite a scenery-sucking Al Pacino as a hero in the first. He pulled the rug from under a dour Ben Affleck with his mad leprechaun of a villain in the second. And the 26-year-old charmer with the triple-espresso-hued eyes and dangerous stubble is about one Hollywood action flick (or perhaps two) away from finally being big enough to fill his hype-stretched britches.

"Every guy wants to be him, and every girl just goes gaga," says "Daredevil" director Mark Steven Johnson. "He's a total movie star."

Almost.

"Phone Booth," opening Friday and directed by Farrell's "Tigerland" mentor Joel Schumacher, could push him to the next level.

It was delayed last fall when the film's plot cut too close to the real-life Washington, D.C.-area sniper attacks. But with Farrell's heat now on high, the date switch is a plus.

As Stu, a slimy two-bit Manhattan publicist forced to pay for his sins of spin by a moralistic gunman, Farrell unleashes a sweaty torrent of Bronx-accented emotions — while stuck in a phone booth as his tormenter forces him to stay on the line. He describes his showbiz hustler in typical blunt fashion, in an expletive-lumpy brogue that sometimes sounds as if he's gargling with Irish oatmeal: "He's the kind of ... (jerk) I could turn into. But I'm not going to."

Kiefer Sutherland, who injects mellifluous menace into the unseen serial killer's voice, admires Farrell's guts in taking a challenge rejected by Mel Gibson and Will Smith. "If someone had sent me the script, I don't know if I would have taken it," he says. "What a bold move to take that on. This is such a courageous performance."

Schumacher expresses paternal pride: "I don't know too many actors who could stand in a phone booth for 10 days and do this performance. He's an amazing talent."

Next up is "S.W.A.T.," the summer cop thriller with Samuel L. Jackson that put $8 million in Farrell's pocket. "Mad, ... (expletive) mad" is his response to the vast wad of cash he has yet to spend or invest.

Then there's his stab at a "Gladiator"-bulky epic. In July, he joins filmmaker Oliver Stone on "Alexander," a biopic about the young Macedonian king who conquered the world and lovers of both sexes. With second-unit shooting under way, the film is likely to reach theaters before Leonardo DiCaprio's rival Alexander movie.

All that stands between Farrell and superstardom, it seems, is ... himself.

While waiting for that one monster breakout, he has been amassing legendary status as a guy rarely seen without a beer in his hand, a Camel Light in his mouth and a babe on his arm. Says Schumacher, "He's like somebody on spring break all the time."

Colleagues express deep fondness for Farrell. Such as Pacino: "He likes to have a good time. But he also gives a good time." And "Recruit" director Roger Donaldson: "He is incredibly charming and considerate, and never parties at anyone else's expense."

While doing a play in Dublin, Susan Sarandon let teen daughter Eva hang with Farrell while he introduced her to the city's nightlife. That's a trusting, and liberal, mom.

Still, Farrell's public acting-up threatens to overshadow his increasingly solid acting credentials. Interviews labeled "Have You Had Sex With Colin Farrell Yet?" devolve into barhopping jaunts or gynecological dissertations.

It came as a shock to no one, then, when it was revealed a couple weeks ago that model Kim Bordenave is carrying his baby.

Yes, Farrell's disdain for political correctness refreshes. But being famous is not the same as being infamous. One earns you respect, the other garners tabloid headlines and wink-wink rumors of dalliances with such comely consorts as Demi Moore and Kate Beckinsale. "Not true, not true," the randy rogue protests. "If I was having the sex I'm supposed to be having, I'd be a happy man."

He seems pretty happy.

Schumacher sticks up for his buddy. "They have to write about something. Russell Crowe punches people, Colin carouses. But he's just an ordinary pub lad. They drink all the time. They smoke and drink."

Farrell found time for a quickie marriage, a four-month union to actress Amelia Warner. He has her nickname "Millie" tattooed on his ring finger. "Carpe diem" is scrawled on a forearm. That almost perfectly describes the split in his personality — commitment or seize-the-day carelessness.

Schumacher admits that Farrell's managers often hold their breaths before their client speaks. "Lots of people wish Colin would shut his mouth. He can't be controlled."

That may be changing. A phone chat last week revealed less of a "playboy of the Western world" attitude than six months ago.

Pending paternity can do that to a person.

He says about the baby due in six months, whose sex is still unknown, "I can't wait," though when asked if he is ready for fatherhood, he replies, "I don't know about that."

But Farrell goes on the defensive concerning his relationship with the mother, who was his companion at the Oscars: "I'm not getting into that," though he later told reporters at the Vanity Fair soiree that they aren't dating.

The actor does have saving graces. For one, he values his profession. "I don't take myself seriously," he says. "I take the work seriously."

To the Irish, Schumacher says, acting is sacred. "They don't fool around. Acting to them means theater. It comes from a fantastic tradition of playwrights and theater."

Farrell is taking a break from commercial fare to sharpen his skills. He's about to head to Toronto to do "A Home at the End of the World," based on a novel by Michael Cunningham ("The Hours"). He calls the story of an unusual love triangle "flawless, really beautiful."

Pacino, a former "next big thing," has faith that Farrell is no flash. "He has much to do, and I hope he chooses wisely. He's got it — that kind of staying power, that command. That will take you far."

Or as a grateful Farrell says, "I'm in this position and it's wonderful. If I'm not goin' to (expletive) enjoy it, then give it to someone else."