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From
The Guardian:
“I have the face of a pretty lad. A handsome face. Could you imagine this mug on a normal body? I could have ruled the world.”
So opines Paul the Illustrated Seal Boy in American Horror Story: Freak Show, currently in its final weeks on FX in the US.
British actor Mat Fraser (pictured), relishing his first American screen role, as Paul, contemplates the question. “Well, yeah, I can imagine that, actually. I would have been a complete arsehole. Some people probably think I already am one.”
Taking a day off in his apartment in New Orleans, where American
Horror Story is being shot, Fraser, 52, splits his time between New York
and his hometown of London. He has enthusiastically delved into the
artistic weft of his temporary home, though, performing in the Dirty Dime Peepshow, a local monthly burlesque revue, between on-set duties. “It’s a really great city for freaks,” he says, smiling.
It’s a freakishly warm December day, and Fraser – handsome face and
all – is basking in the vindication of a long-awaited role. “I knew that
if I could tread water, someone would have the balls to produce a
big-budget drama starring freaks. I’ve always visualised it.”
The dreaming started early, with art winning out over delinquency for
young Fraser – “There but for the grace of my disability go I,” he
muses. With forays into music, edgy cabaret and, occasionally, British
television, he forged an artistic path revelling in the power dynamics
of his appearance. His disability – phocomelia due to his mother being
prescribed the drug Thalidomide during pregnancy – endowed him with a persona: Seal Boy.
While working in the actual Coney Island Circus Side Show in 2006, Fraser met his now-wife, the American neo-burlesque performer Julie Atlas Muz.
Their ongoing collaborative relationship helped him land the part of
Paul. Fraser was spotted in New York in Beauty and the Beast, a racy
reworking of the fairy tale that had already gained critical acclaim
from a run at London’s Young Vic.
“A woman came based on these rave New York Times reviews,”
says Fraser. “She called her friend, who was producing American Horror
Story. I got a call to audition, which I did via my laptop, and was
offered the job the next day. It’s one of those chance castings you
don’t think really happens.”
Paul’s character was originally a lizard man, covered head to toe in
tattoos. When Fraser brought with him the Seal Boy persona, they
compromised, arriving at Paul the Illustrated Seal Boy.
“I fought against having tattoos on my face,” says Fraser. “My face
conveys my emotions and I wanted to be recognised. I wanted people to be
able to see me acting. To see me.”
Fraser suspects the “normal body” line was an empathetic leap by the
writers: “If so, they were woefully wrong, but what can you expect from
non-disabled writers?”
“I don’t blame them,” Fraser continues. “I wanted to do the lines.
I’m not going to say, ‘I don’t think a disabled person would think
that.’ I used to be like that. I’ve learned a lot about disability
portrayal, and sometimes you have to let that stuff go. Yes, it’s
important and in my own work I talk about it, but sometimes you just
have to want to do the acting.”
Questions arose around the politics of casting able actors in freak show roles in American Horror Story. Fraser hears the arguments, but wants to evolve the discussion.
“You’re talking about using able actors to play disabled roles now?
I was talking about this in 1997. I’m kind of done talking about it,”
he says. Fraser also wants to get beyond trite narratives of overcoming
disability. “I won’t do inspiration porn, I just won’t. Yes, we can
discuss how difficult it is getting work as a disabled actor, but let’s
talk about the acting and the work and the art, and not about if I was
bullied as a teenager.”
Fraser sees American Horror Story as groundbreaking, particularly
Paul’s portrayal as a two-timing lover.
“It’s profound,” he says.
“Giving storylines like that to a deformed person is radical. We’re the
first disabled people on US TV, but this is a show about freaks, so they
see me and think ‘good casting’. A world where if even your teeth are wrong you don’t get gigs? It’s a tough nut to crack.”
As filming wraps up, Fraser is cheerfully pragmatic. “Friends
encouragingly tell me this is it for me, but I’ve had enough dips to
know its likely I’ll be back covered in fake blood at Bethnal Green
Working Men’s Club.”
Will his new profile inform future artistic directions? “There are
some things I won’t do any more. I’m trying to obey the rules with the
arched eyebrow of possibility and not the furrowed brow of cynical
negative assumption. But you know what? Maybe some rules don’t apply to
me. They’re rules of thumb. And you know what I haven’t got? Thumbs.”