Robert Taylor: arresting as TV lawman 'Longmire'
This undated publicity image released by A&E shows Katee Sackhoff , left, and Robert Taylor in the series "Longmire," returning for a second season on Monday, May 27 at 10 p.m. on A&E. (AP Photo/A&E, Ursula Coyote)
NEW YORK (AP) — You may not recognize Robert Taylor as anyone other than the title character he plays on the crime drama "Longmire." But he's no newcomer.
"I've been working pretty solidly for a long time," says Taylor, with a wry throwaway: "Not that anyone would notice, you know what I mean?"
But not that he appears to be complaining.
"It's been my goal to work as much as possible, and be as unknown as possible," he insists.
Unknown-ness for the 52-year-old actor may be threatened as "Longmire" begins its second season Monday at 10 p.m. EDT on A&E, where he stars alongside Katee Sackhoff ("Battlestar Galactica") and Lou Diamond Phillips.
Taylor impressed viewers last summer as Sheriff Walt Longmire, who polices the Big Sky sprawl of Absaroka County, Wyo., with a devotion that's steadfast, laconic and sadder-but-wiser (he mourns the recent death of his wife). He is rangy and grizzled at an age where he can still whip most opponents in a fight, but knows to spare himself that kind of strain whenever he can.
"With young people, it's how brassy and flashy can you be," says Taylor, explaining his portrayal. "But you get a bit older, it's about how restrained can you be. You have to feel it all, think it all, but you don't have to play it — it's just gotta be there, and if the story's good and the script's good, people will see it."
They'll see it on "Longmire." Then again, they may not know it's acting. The portrayal of Sheriff Longmire yields an enormously appealing and relatable character, while Taylor disappears into the role.
It's a role he clearly identifies with. He arrives for an interview at a fussy Manhattan restaurant clad in a denim shirt, jeans and boots. Very Longmire. And while his broad shoulders don't bear the weight of Longmire's world, his voice isn't noticeably different, issuing from somewhere deep as it gathers a rich nasal timbre and a Western twang — which is surprising, since Taylor is Australian. (Where's his Aussie accent? "It comes and goes, mate," he replies, for a moment channeling Crocodile Dundee.)
"I've always loved the (American) West," he goes on. "I grew up in wide-open spaces, but they didn't have the romantic history of the West. It was more just misery."
He was born in Melbourne, but when his parents split up, he went to live with his aunt and uncle in a Western Australian mining town.
As a teen he worked in the mines. Then he took off, with the idea of somehow mirroring the artists and adventurers from his mother's Bohemian side of the family, most of whom he only knew from mesmerizing tales.
"The desire was there, eating away, to do something different," he recalls. "But I had no clue how."
Among his many odd jobs as he sought an answer was working on an oil rig, where he took a fall.
"I just busted a bunch of bones," he says with a laugh. "It's all right. I was young."
But by then he was ready for something with a future.
He got wind of the Western Australian Academy of Performing Arts, which now counts among its alumni Frances O'Connor and Hugh Jackman. With no idea how, he prepared two auditions and got in.
He was transformed by this exotic, artistic culture.
"It was so foreign to me, so unusual and strange to be talking about things that I had never spoken about to anybody," he marvels. "I just soaked it up."