This was one of those rare interviews my wife wanted as much as I did. If not more.
Don’t get me wrong, I am a Nikolaj guy. We trumpeted his casting since day one. The man who filled the Kingslayer’s shoes had to be able to pull off an effortless, almost lazy confidence that didn’t come across as false. Jaime Lannister had to be someone who swaggered because he knew he could kick your ass. He also needed to be physically attractive, and to be able to play guilt and self-loathing buried so deep it could only flicker to the fore, in his eyes, on the rarest occasions.
Nikolaj had all that, in spades.
Jaime Lannister had been allowed no razor since the night he was taken in the Whispering Wood, and a shaggy beard covered his face, once so like the queen’s. Glinting gold in the lamplight, the whiskers made him look like some great yellow beast, magnificent even in chains. His unwashed hair fell to his shoulders in ropes and tangles, the clothes were rotting on his body, his face was pale and wasted…and even so, the power and the beauty of the man were still apparent.
