A law unto himself

Reflecting on Adeel Akhtar’s captivating journey, I find myself deeply moved by his resilience and determination. From confronting his father’s fears to living in a camper van, his story is a testament to the power of dreams and the human spirit.

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In 2002, Adeel Akhtar stood at a critical juncture in his life. Fresh from earning a law degree to appease his father, he was on the verge of embarking on a legal career when an unexpected opportunity presented itself. His girlfriend was auditioning for a drama school in New York, and one day, the school called to offer him a spot. Adeel, who had harbored a passion for drama since his teenage years, now found himself at a crossroads: “Should I pursue a career in law,” he recalled, “or should I seize this chance to escape into the unknown and embark on a new life filled with uncertainty and terrifying possibilities?” In the end, Adeel chose to take a leap of faith.

Currently, he’s one of the most sought-after actors in our nation, implying that the risk was worthwhile. Following his breakthrough performance in the 2010 film “Four Lions,” he’s been featured in numerous critically acclaimed TV series such as “Sherwood,” “Utopia,” “Unforgotten,” and “Sweet Tooth.” In 2017, he made history by becoming the first non-white individual to win a BAFTA television best actor award for his role in “Murdered by My Father,” and in 2022, he received another BAFTA nomination for his role in the highly praised romantic drama “Ali & Ava.

We are meeting in a north London photo studio to talk about his latest primetime role in Showtrial, the second series of the BBC legal drama, in which he plays defence solicitor Sam Malik, tasked with representing a police officer (Michael Socha) who stands accused of murdering a climate-change activist. “I’ve definitely cornered the market in being the dishevelled lawyer or police investigator,” Akhtar says. “The parts I get asked to play are usually ones where the idea of them being dishevelled is usually in the stage direction somewhere.”

In the five episodes of Showtrial, a question arises: Was the activist’s demise an accident or something more ominous? The topic of police misconduct is particularly relevant now, so I inquire from Akhtar if he has ever encountered any difficulties with the law enforcement. “I’ve been stopped and questioned,” he replies, “but they discovered I had nothing on me.

A law unto himself

A more frightening interaction took place when he flew into New York to start at drama school but was arrested by the FBI after being mistaken for a terrorist. “It was a terrifying thought as to what could have happened to me,” he says. “There were nightmare stories of people who just never went home from America. They were just stuck there and then sent to Guantanamo.” That experience of being singled out brought back unhappy memories of being a small boy and having stones thrown at him, wondering if that was always to be his life.

Akhtar was raised in a village located in Buckinghamshire. His parents, originally from Kenya and Pakistan, had met at Heathrow Airport where they were both employed. They initially resided in Hounslow, west London, and enrolled him at Cheltenham College, a boarding school, to provide what they believed was the epitome of an English education. However, Akhtar never felt he embodied the quintessential English identity. I inquire if leaving his parents at 11 years old for boarding school was distressing. “When you’re young,” he explains, “you may not fully comprehend what trauma is; but I do recall feeling like an outsider in that school, and being one of few who looked like me. As a 43-year-old, it makes me ponder how such constant feelings of minority status might influence a person’s growth and development.

Originally, his parents enrolled him in a private school due to good intentions, however, now being a father of two sons with his wife Alexis Burke, a documentary director, Akhtar questions the advantages of public education. “My children attend a state-funded school,” he states. “You send your child to school to learn, but also to help them grasp the diversity of the world. I believe that attending a state school prepares a child better for understanding that you’ll encounter various people in life, yet there’s a shared common ground among all.

It’s not revolutionary but there’s a soft power in acting

At Cheltenham, Akhtar first seized the chance to hone his acting skills. He landed a part as a gravedigger in Hamlet and took part in a staging of Harold Pinter’s The Homecoming with companions. “I felt that people were truly attentive to my words,” he reminisces. “I sensed a hidden strength within this line of work.

Growing up, he hadn’t found characters or stories on screen or stage that resonated with him. That changed when he discovered Hanif Kureishi’s work, specifically “The Buddha of Suburbia” and “My Beautiful Laundrette.” He remembers thinking, “For the first time, I saw myself reflected in these stories.” Akhtar also pursued acting alongside his father’s desire for him to study law. These paths intersected in the fall of 2002 when he was offered a chance to study at The Actors Studio in New York. He felt it was an opportunity too good to pass up. “I told him about my decision and he withdrew emotionally,” Akhtar recalls. “He couldn’t prevent me, but at the same time, he was deeply concerned because becoming an actor is a frightening prospect.

It turned out that his concerns were valid as, following graduation from drama school, he moved from one bar gig to another. “I was going out quite frequently and enjoying myself excessively,” he admits, “but the fun eventually lost its appeal.” In 2009, Chris Morris selected him for Four Lions, a part that would ultimately revolutionize his career trajectory. However, Akhtar’s career didn’t gain traction immediately, and he ended up residing in a camper van for over a year.

He explains that in those days, he could park wherever he wanted, so he often parked outside his friends’ homes. Whenever he needed to take a shower, he would attend yoga classes and utilize their facilities. It seems they may have been concerned and displeased, but he acknowledges they were estranged from each other. “We barely saw each other,” he admits.

Six years on, I garnered another BAFTA, this time for my exceptional supporting role in the initial season of BBC’s “Sherwood.” As fate would have it, I found myself seated behind Meera Syal during the ceremony, where she was being honored with a prestigious BAFTA Fellowship. In that moment, I found myself transported back to my teenage years, gazing at the television screen. The realization of being in such close proximity to greatness left me speechless, for words could hardly express the magnitude of the experience.

My becoming an actor terrified my dad

In recent times, it’s become evident that actors from various backgrounds are gaining more visibility and a wider variety of roles, which makes it feel as though past struggles have been successfully overcome. However, this summer, when he tuned into the news, he saw racial unrest spreading throughout the nation, with mosques and hotels housing refugees being targeted. He reflects, “It felt like history repeating itself.

After overcoming my sadness and depression, I started contemplating ways to shield my children from similar experiences and empower them to become drivers of change. So, we took a stroll to our neighborhood market. Some people claim multiculturalism doesn’t work, but I find it effective more times than not. If you think it’s ineffective, then perhaps they’ve already succeeded in making you doubt its potential.

“The stories I am drawn to,” he says, “are a complete rejection of thinking that somebody can objectify you to the point where your own humanity becomes invisible to yourself. Acting can be a vehicle for some kind of change, even if it’s not revolutionary change. There’s a gradual soft power to this work – you enter in a space where everybody feels that they’re seen.”

2024-10-01 20:09

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