Sri Lanka-born, Olivier award-winning actor Hiran Abeysekera tells Fergus Morgan about choosing to pursue his dream of performing while living in Colombo, his inspirations and the moments that have made up his theatre career
Hiran Abeysekera has been on a remarkable journey. Born in 1986, he grew up in Colombo, Sri Lanka, discovered a love for performance at school – but then decided to study to become a doctor. The 2004 tsunami, which killed 35,000 people in Sri Lanka, made him rethink things, though.
“My parents were so proud of me when I said I wanted to be a doctor,” Abeysekera remembers. “I think I just wanted to continue that. I changed my mind after the tsunami, though, and they understood my reasons. I told them: ‘If life can end so quickly, I want to do something I truly love.’ ”
Abeysekera trained with a youth theatre in Colombo, starred in a 2007 British Council production of Peter Shaffer’s Equus, and was invited to audition for several UK drama schools as a result, earning a scholarship to RADA.
His subsequent career has seen him appear in Hamlet with the Royal Shakespeare Company, Behind the Beautiful Forevers at the National Theatre, and, most famously, in the stage adaptation of Life of Pi.
Abeysekera’s performance as Pi Patel earned him the best actor Olivier award in 2022.
“That whole experience was incredible,” Abeysekera says. “Pi took me from Sheffield, to the West End, to Broadway – all stuff I didn’t even dream about when I was a kid. It was so far away. I didn’t think I would ever set foot on a West End stage or a Broadway stage. Honestly, I still can’t believe it.”
Abeysekera’s journey is still going, too. He is about to return to the National Theatre to appear in the remount of Indhu Rubasingham’s staging of Anupama Chandrasekhar’s The Father and the Assassin, which originally opened in the Olivier last year.
“My life has been like a wave of fortune that started rolling in 2007 and hasn’t stopped yet,” he says. “I am so curious to see where it takes me next.”
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I was in a play before I saw one. I was a rat in a version of The Pied Piper at Nalanda College, an all-boys school in Colombo. That was my first theatre experience. I also remember watching an adaptation of Lorca’s Blood Wedding in Sri Lanka, too. I was hungry to do more theatre after that.
There is a story that after Buddha reached enlightenment under the Bodhi tree, he sat and looked at it for seven days without blinking. It is meant to teach you that in order to respect something, you have to truly see it.
When I started to feel low last year, I tried to do that. I look at the leaves in my garden. I sit by the river and watch the sun on the water. It is those everyday things that inspire me.
If I had a magic wand, I would wave it and ensure that the biggest worry for everyone in the performing arts world was the work that they create, rather than anything else.
There was a moment in Life of Pi when my character had a panic attack. I had this technique that choked me up and made me gag a bit. After one matinee, we went to Saravana Bhavan on Charing Cross Road. I had a full thali. That evening, when I had my panic attack, instead of choking, I threw up dhal all over the stage. I had to take my shirt off and mop it up. It was so disgusting.
My best friend from Sri Lanka is an actor called Dilum Buddhika. He moved to Italy, but couldn’t speak English or Italian, so the only job he could get was washing dishes. When I was in Peter Brook’s The Tempest in Paris, I asked him if Dilum could join us in the rehearsal room. Peter said: “Of course.”
Slowly but surely, Dilum became more and more involved in the production. He became one of the sprites in the show and he got a contract. I remember looking at him at the curtain call after our first performance, and he was just beaming. That was one of my happiest moments.
I did a speech from Richard III as my audition piece for RADA, so I would like to do that. I would like to do Hamlet, too, and I would like to do more TV and film. Then people back in Sri Lanka can see me. Life of Pi is showing in cinemas in Colombo at the moment. All of my friends are going to see it.
I am playing Nathuram Godse – the man who assassinated Gandhi – in The Father and the Assassin at the National Theatre. I have wanted to work with Indhu Rubasingham – a fellow Sri Lankan – forever. Then I read the play, and I had to be part of it. It is an awesome piece of writing. Gandhi has been quite prominent in my life. Sri Lanka got its independence only a few months after India did, thanks to Gandhi, so he is a big figure there, too. I grew up with my dad quoting him.
The Father and the Assassin is at the National Theatre from September 8-October 14. Visit: nationaltheatre.org.uk
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