When two of the brightest stars in queer cinema sit down for a candid conversation, you know sparks are bound to fly. That’s exactly what happened when Russell Tovey and Pedro Pascal joined forces for an interview in Man About Town magazine, published in early October 2025. Their chat, ostensibly a promotional stop for the new film Plainclothes, quickly evolved into a rollicking, insightful, and deeply personal exploration of queer identity, power, shame, and—of course—a hefty dose of playful banter that only longtime friends can muster.
Their friendship, nearly a decade in the making, began back in 2016 when Pascal traveled to the U.K. to film Kingsman: The Golden Circle. According to Queerty, Pascal was already a fan of Tovey’s work, particularly the British sitcom Him & Her, and would quote lines to his new friend. The pair’s bond deepened over the years, with memorable moments like their viral "daddy date night" at a Pet Shop Boys concert in London in 2024, where a cozy photo of the two nearly broke the internet. As Pascal jokingly recalled, "I had tabs on your schedule and I’d be like, ‘Are you going to come [to London] for this long weekend or not?’”
But as much as their friendship is built on laughter, the conversation turned to weightier themes when they discussed Plainclothes. Directed by Carmen Emmi and filmed in her hometown of Syracuse, the movie is set in 1997—a time that still resonates for many in the LGBTQ+ community. Tovey plays Andrew, a closeted priest whose world is upended after a chance encounter with Lucas, played by Tom Blyth. The film’s premise draws inspiration from real-life anti-cruising police stings in upstate New York during the 1990s, echoing the infamous arrest of George Michael for public lewdness.
Pascal, reflecting on the era, said, “There’s footage in it that makes you feel like it’s 1960s London, where gay men were being hunted. And men were being hunted in this period, even within Manhattan, I suppose... Some things have changed, and some things fcking haven’t.” This sense of timeless vulnerability and repression is a thread that runs through the film and the actors’ conversation. Tovey, who came of age during a time when openly queer actors were rare, acknowledged, “Myself as a gay man, I do find that inherently, I have been embedded with shame from a young age. The year I was born, the coming of age, the way the history was, the way that society was built for queer people. I just didn’t feel like I was safe, and I think I had inherent shame.”
That sense of shame, and the ways it can coexist with outward success, forms one of the film’s emotional cores. As Tovey put it, “I like ‘shame’ as a theme, and how we can be highly functioning and full of shame.” Pascal echoed the sentiment, noting the "grief of shame, and the poison of shame, and the liberation from it, which is really, really beautiful." The characters in Plainclothes are not just navigating forbidden romance; they’re wrestling with internalized shame and the dangers of being vulnerable in a world that isn’t always safe for queer people.
Yet, the film isn’t just a somber meditation on repression. It’s also a sexy, suspenseful thriller that plays with power dynamics in ways both thrilling and authentic. Tovey described how, at first, Andrew appears to hold all the cards: “It’s a power dynamic where I have all the power. I’m the older man, I’m the more experienced. Then you find out suddenly that [Lucas is] a cop, and the power shifts incrementally in a second.” The revelation flips the story—and the characters—on their heads, making for a narrative as unpredictable as it is emotionally charged.
One of the lighter moments in the interview came when Tovey and Pascal discussed the importance of versatility, or being “vers,” in relationships. “He’s vers…” Pascal teased. Tovey replied with a grin, “Yeah, and so is Lucas. It’s the best way to be. Vers is the best.” The two agreed that versatility isn’t just a sexual preference, but a philosophy—one that speaks to the fluidity of power and emotion in healthy relationships. As Instinct Magazine put it, “Versatility isn’t just a preference—it’s a power move.”
The theme of responsibility also emerged, with Tovey emphasizing his desire for his character to be safe and considerate. “I wanted Andrew to be someone that, when Lucas walks away from it, he can be like, ‘I practiced safe sex.’” For Tovey, being a “top” isn’t just about dominance; it’s about responsibility and care, a message that resonates in an era where representation of queer intimacy on screen is finally being handled with more nuance and respect.
Of course, no conversation between these two would be complete without a bit of mischief. Tovey, reminiscing about filming in Syracuse, admitted to mispronouncing the city’s name as “Sir-uh-coos,” which led Pascal to chide him playfully: “Well, it’s pronounced ‘Sir-uh-kyoos’, so your nursery rhyme is already off [laughs]. If you’re gonna romanticize it, at least romanticize it correctly.” The exchange quickly devolved into a riff on “Syra-cutie,” with Tovey declaring, “That’s my drag name.” Pascal, ever the hype man, responded, “Syra-cutie?! That’s your drag name.”
Their banter, captured in both the Out and Queerty articles, underscores the comfort and camaraderie the two actors share. Whether they’re ribbing each other about old art gallery dates gone awry or dissecting the intricacies of queer shame and liberation, their rapport is undeniable—and infectious.
Yet, beneath the laughter and inside jokes, the conversation never loses sight of the stakes. Pascal’s observation that “some things have changed, and some things fcking haven’t” is a sobering reminder that the dangers and indignities faced by queer people in the 1990s aren’t just relics of the past. As Plainclothes demonstrates, the struggle for safety, acceptance, and liberation continues—on screen and off.
In the end, what makes this interview such a compelling read isn’t just the star power of Tovey and Pascal, but the way their friendship allows them to dig deep, challenge each other, and find joy even in difficult subjects. Whether they’re championing versatility, reflecting on the poison of shame, or debuting new drag personas, their conversation is a testament to the power of honesty, humor, and community. And if “Syra-cutie” ever hits the drag stage, you can bet both the crowd and the critics will be ready.