Two-Minute Date: James McAvoy Gets Frisky
"If I were on a date with one of your readers, I'd declare, 'Let's go ice-skating!'" says McAvoy. "At some point, I'd definitely try to feel her up, and we'd have dinner."
Call us crazy, but it's a good thing actor James McAvoy is married. As much as we love his sexy Glasgow brogue and his boyish good looks (mischievous smile, firecracker blue eyes), we're not sure he'd fare well in the big bad world of dating. Or so the self-professed terrible dater would have us believe. Once, out on the town with a "surefire thing," McAvoy says, "we were getting on great," and yet, by the end, she'd called her ex for a ride home. "It was that bad," he says, wincing.
Luckily, after three years of married bliss with actress Anne-Marie Duff, McAvoy, 30, can chalk up such humiliation as field research for this month's The Last Station, where he plays Leo Tolstoy's assistant, Valentin ("a virtuous vegetarian virgin—all the V's," he jokes), who fumbles his way through wooing the beautiful Masha. It's the bumbling territory he's known for: In Wanted, his office drone turned assassin stumbled to keep up with sexpot Angelina Jolie; in Atonement, his housekeeper's son was prone to saying—and typing—the wrong thing to his upper-class lover.
Given his everyman roles, McAvoy's own situation—Hollywood star in scrappy Scot's body—seems familiar. "Since my worldview has expanded, I don't consider myself working class anymore, and I'm attracted to playing characters who go through a similar evolution," he says, requesting a green tea from our waiter when he learns there's no chai available. "That's what I'm talking about—I drink chai now! Fuck me!" he laughs. "But that's also a symbol of the changes I've gone through."
Gazing at his floppy hair and scruffy beard (it's red!), we wonder aloud if he's also evolved into a better dater. "If I were on a date with one of your readers, I'd declare, 'Let's go ice-skating!'" says McAvoy, playing along. "At some point, I'd definitely try to feel her up, and we'd have dinner," he concludes. "Yes, I think it would go ice-skating, boobs, dinner." We'd risk it—with a ride home on speed-dial, just in case.
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