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The New Yorker

The Paperboy’s Secret Taiye Selasi on How to Survive Perfectionism Taiye Selasi Reads “Firstborn Immigrant Daughter” Restaurant Review: Ambassadors Clubhouse The Expansive Joy of Mao Ishikawa Italy Has Failed to Qualify for Three Straight World Cups. Are the Country’s Immigration Policies to Blame? When the Religious Right Came for Martin Scorsese Play Shuffalo: Saturday, May 30, 2026 The Knicks: The Only Game in Town Why “Yesteryear” Is Everywhere Dan Osborn, the Independent Senate Candidate Who Could Tip Nebraska Daily Cartoon: Friday, May 29th The Mini Crossword: Friday, May 29, 2026 “Hacks” Gave Us an Odd Couple for the Ages Inside Lebanon’s Fraught Push to Disarm Hezbollah Should You Automate Your Life? “Greater New York” Takes the Pulse of the City Postscript: Donald Newhouse Play Shuffalo: Friday, May 29, 2026 “Power Ballad,” Reviewed: A Bromantic Conflict Over a Hit Song Donald Trump Gets Even Attack of the “Flesh-Eating” Bacteria Taking Children from Their Parents Without a Court Order The Stories That TV Tells About Online Sex Work Daily Cartoon: Thursday, May 28th Play Shuffalo: Thursday, May 28, 2026 We Found Amelia Earhart, but She Cut Her Bangs, So We Didn’t Recognize Her The Mini Crossword: Thursday, May 28, 2026 All the Films in Competition at Cannes 2026, Ranked from Best to Worst A Prison Escape in Georgia The Whiplash of the U.S.-Iran Peace Talks Julia Alvarez Reads Judy Page Heitzman Daily Cartoon: Wednesday, May 27th What the Pope Said About A.I. Play Shuffalo: Wednesday, May 27, 2026 Everlane and the Death of the “Good” Millennial Life-Style Brand The Crossword: Wednesday, May 27, 2026 Hollywood Comes to Jesus The Kids Are Not All Right at Cannes The Revolutionary Force of Sonny Rollins The Epic Disaster of Operation Epic Fury Daily Cartoon: Tuesday, May 26th Ken Paxton Wins the Senate Republican Primary Runoff in Texas The Despair of the Professor in the Age of A.I. I Am a Woman in My Thirties, and I Am Thriving Play Shuffalo: Tuesday, May 26, 2026 The Crossword: Tuesday, May 26, 2026 How a Small-Town Clerk’s Misdeeds Upturned the Murdaugh Verdict Ken Paxton Wins the Senate Republican Primary Runoff in Texas Why Any Plausible Iran Deal Is a Humiliation for Trump Play Shuffalo: Monday, May 25, 2026 “What I Saw,” by Matthew Dickman Mark Ulriksen’s “Kings of New York” “This Vast Enterprise: A New History of Lewis & Clark,” Reviewed “Ecologies of Perception,” by Terrance Hayes Slide Show: New Yorker Cartoons June 1, 2026 The Useless Beauty of Christo and Jeanne-Claude A Vindication of the Rights of L.L.M.s The Trump-Epstein Files: Look but Don’t Touch Mariska Hargitay Trades Her Badge for Confetti Can Anything Stop Donald Trump’s Corruption? Play Laugh Lines No. 73: Funerals The Crossword: Monday, May 25, 2026 Daily Cartoon: Monday, May 25th How “The Chosen” Spurred a Golden Age of Christian Filmmaking What Dogs See When They Look at Us How Problematic Is Patriotism? The Ukrainian Stunt Pilot Hunting Russian Drones How Trump Created a Slush Fund for His Allies Ayşegül Savaş Reads “Many Worlds” “Many Worlds,” by Ayşegül Savaş The Leader of NASA’s Artemis II Mission Is Still Moonstruck How Prepared Are We for a Public-Health Emergency? Play Shuffalo: Sunday, May 24, 2026 Ayşegül Savaş on Smugness and Creativity Restaurant Review: Cote 550 The Transformation of Elina Svitolina What’s Missing from Belle Burden’s “Strangers” What Jack Kerouac Left Behind The Verve and Confrontation of Lisa Yuskavage’s Naked Ladies How Raghu Rai Captured an India in Transition Is the Working Class Finally Turning on Trump? Play Shuffalo: Saturday, May 23, 2026 Is Washington Up to the Challenge of A.I.? A Funeral for Stephen Colbert’s “Late Show” Dana White Thinks Everyone’s a Fighter A FEMA Insider Says Morale Has Never Been Lower at the Embattled Agency Daily Cartoon: Friday, May 22nd Summer Culture Preview “I Love Boosters,” Reviewed: A Socialist-Surrealist Shoplifting Fantasy Play Shuffalo: Friday, May 22, 2026 How Good Is This World Cup Squad, Really? The Mini Crossword: Friday, May 22, 2026 Why Is It So Hard to Be Ordinary? Will College Soon Be Obsolete? Singing the Knicks’ Praises, with a Dash of Metal Daily Cartoon: Thursday, May 21st Play Shuffalo: Thursday, May 21, 2026 Updated Birdsong Mnemonics for Donald Trump’s America Daily Cartoon Slide Show
Aidan Turner Can’t Stop Smoldering
Anna Russell · 2026-06-01 · via The New Yorker

The Goring Hotel, near Buckingham Palace, is one of the few remaining places in the capital where you can still receive—thank God!—the services of a fleet of uniformed footmen, in spiffy red tailcoats and gold-trimmed waistcoats. There are hedges in the shape of rabbits on the manicured lawn, and occasional visits from a Shetland pony. It is the kind of hotel, one imagines, that the idle aristocrats who populate Christopher Hampton’s 1985 play, “Les Liaisons Dangereuses,” based on the earlier French novel, might have used for illicit affairs, had they stopped over in London. The footmen would surely be discreet.

One recent afternoon, the Irish actor Aidan Turner, who plays the seedy playboy the Vicomte de Valmont in a new production of the show at the National Theatre, settled into an armchair in the hotel’s lounge. On the wall, a pair of merpeople wore nothing but seashells. Turner was dressed less like a French aristocrat and more like an East London barista: white T-shirt, canvas jacket, high-waisted wool trousers. Bypassing a three-course afternoon-tea menu, he ordered a cup of decaf English Breakfast with sugar. He was already jittery. “Afternoon tea would slow me right down, I’m going to be honest,” he said. “I need to be light on my toes.”

This is true. Turner’s Valmont is silver-tongued and fleet-footed, more slippery and charming than previous iterations of the sleazeball by Alan Rickman (the stage) and John Malkovich (the film). Lesley Manville plays the scheming Marquise de Merteuil. “They’re both wicked, and they get a lot of satisfaction from manipulating people,” Turner said. He wanted to see if Valmont could win the audience over before revealing his true self. “Traditionally, he’s been played in a way where he’s very much—when you lay eyes on him, he’s a predator,” he said. “Whereas, when he’s quite charming, it sort of challenges the audience.”

Turner had just finished a junket to promote both the play and the second season of “Rivals,” Disney+’s adaptation of the raunchy romance novel by Jilly Cooper, the U.K.’s version of Danielle Steel. Like “Liaisons,” “Rivals” is about rich people having sex, though it is set in the Cotswolds in the nineteen-eighties, rather than pre-revolutionary France. Turner’s character, Declan O’Hara, is a righteous Irish journalist, also loquacious, also hot, but disgusted by ostentatious displays of wealth. “He’s like the negative to Valmont’s photograph,” he said.

Turner first discovered Cooper’s novels many years ago in an old girlfriend’s country house. The cover of “Rivals” depicts a lipstick-red high heel digging into a man’s hand; its sequel, “Riders,” features a woman’s backside in polo gear. The images stayed with him. “It’s so eighties,” he said. “Once you see it, you can’t unsee it.” Cooper passed away, at eighty-eight, after the first season, but she was on set for much of the filming. “You had to get close to Jilly to find out what she was saying,” Turner said. “She spoke so, so quietly, and then you’d get in there and you would hear the most filthy things! And think, Oh, my God, where is this coming from?”

He added sugar to his tea. “It’s never too far from the characters I play,” he sighed. “It’s always around. Sex.” In the U.K., most people know him as Ross Poldark, the often shirtless mine owner in the BBC’s period romance “Poldark.” In 2015, the show was so popular that it was mentioned repeatedly in the House of Commons. (Example: “Like Poldark, the Prime Minister rode into Cornwall—not on a horse but on a bus.”) Does he consider himself a ladies’ man? “Jesus,” he said. He’s married, with a toddler. “Valmont is probably very aware of how he looks, and plays on that, and whatever. I’ve never felt I’m that person.”

Groomers like Valmont “tend to hide in plain sight,” Turner continued. “It’s scarier if it’s not, like, an Andrew Tate.” He had watched a recent Netflix documentary about the manosphere. “It’s so interesting to watch these guys. I mean, there’s a certain amount of charm, I suppose, but they’re so angry all the time,” he said. “There’s no craic! Like, who are you dating?” He grew up with a different kind of masculine ideal, representing Ireland in ballroom-dance competitions. “Waltz, tango, quickstep, foxtrot,” he said. “Samba, cha-cha, rumba, paso doble, jive.”

It was almost time to go. He had skillfully avoided the biscuits that came with the tea. (Stay light.) Briefly, he mused about the roles he tends to attract. Why so many charmers, devious or otherwise? “I think it’s just my face,” he said. “My concentration face comes across as a bit smoldery, but I’m not trying to do that. I’m just trying to focus. I think that’s what it is. Somebody goes, Are you smoldering? No, I’m listening. Jesus!” ♦