There wasn’t that kind of sturm and drang. Rather like Eureka, it didn’t take itself too seriously.
What about that broadness is fun to play? At one point I was kidnapping Santa Claus. And the apex of that triangle was to play a delicious panto villain. Noah Wylie I love dearly and worked with on Falling Skies. He’s a blast to work with and a brilliant fellow. I knew Dean Devlin from our time on the celebrity hockey team back in Los Angeles years ago. The Librarians was a surprise hit and truly unafraid of going broad with the comedy and adventure. His journey is to overcome his grief and guilt.
They want to be proven right, that they aren’t worthy. I don’t have the level of self-loathing this character has, but it’s a fascinating thing to play. There’s a level of sadness there that I have definitely known in my own life and you inevitably bring to the character. Is that something you can easily access to play him? There’s a lot of sadness swirling around Daedalus. Quite frankly, I could have done it one way with my eyes closed, but he said nope, we are going into darker territory here, and it was really good. Yeah, but in the early stages of rehearsal steered me down a much darker path, which was great. He’s the ancient Greek version of Sherlock Holmes. But he’s built this ivory tower around himself, via his intellect, because he’s the smartest guy in the room. He’s a very tormented character and carries around this figurative imprisonment even though he’s been able to escape from King Minas’ tower with the help of the flying machine he invented. He’s given up everything for his god, which is the work, and sacrificed the love of his wife and son in the process. So he crash-lands rather like Harrison Ford on a golf course, so he’s this guilt-ridden, brilliant man who is tortured. By the way, I call him “Die-dalus” and everybody else in the show calls him “Dead-alus,” as I’ve decided this is one of his great frustrations in life, that he’s an incredibly famous guy and everyone mispronounces his name. When we first meet him, the unthinkable has happened as Icarus has flown too close to the sun. Where in that story are we in the Olympus narrative? You play Daedalus, the man who made the wings that ultimately killed his son, Icarus. In one way, it’s a sweeping adventure, and on another level it’s quite a personal, psychological journey, so it’s a really interesting blend of things.
They wrest their free will back from the gods and cast them into the underworld. It’s kind of an epic tale and journey for the small screen telling how humans wrestle their own gods to the ground and storm Olympus. Well, it’s Nick Willing’s particularly imaginative take on the Greeks. What about Olympus piqued your interested? We asked him to talk to us about some of his most memorable roles and projects, and he kindly agreed …
Whether he’s the unctuous villain or the comedic relief, Frewer is known for crafting memorable characters that often steal the show. From there, Frewer’s been a busy man, constantly working in film, television and animation voiceover.
However, it was playing the digitally created talking head Max Headroom in the British Channel 4 TV movie Max Headroom: 20 Minutes Into the Future that ushered him over to America to reprise the role in the 1987 ABC series Max Headroom. A Canadian American trained at Olivier’s Bristol Old Vic Theatre School, Frewer made the stage his first stomping ground. As a matter of fact, it’s almost assured that he’s appeared in at least a handful of some of your very favorite genre jams, since his resume is packed with more than 100 roles in everything from Honey, I Shrunk the Kids to Syfy’s new Greek epic series, Olympus ( Syfy is Blastr’s corporate parent – Ed.). If you’re a self-professed geek, then you probably know actor Matt Frewer.