‘Old-timey fascism was kept secret. Now you don’t have to hide it’: Martin McDonagh, John Malkovich and Sam Rockwell on Wild Horse Nine

McDonagh’s latest film has Malkovich and Rockwell shooting the breeze as CIA agents in 1973 on Easter Island. They discuss grandchildren, swimming with turtles and who shot JFK

‘Earmuffs!” says Sam Rockwell, pausing his gushing tribute mid-flow and turning to face John Malkovich on the couch. Rockwell loves Malkovich and has been discussing his work at some length. Malkovich, he says, is charismatic and dangerous, half masculine, half feminine; a unique combination and the perfect sparring partner. He’s one of the world’s finest actors and annoyingly modest to boot. “Earmuffs!” says Rockwell and pivots back towards me. “He hates hearing all this. That’s why I keep saying ‘earmuffs’.”

Malkovich frowns. “I don’t mind it,” he says.

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