Lyndsey Turner, who directed Posh, is scarily intelligent. Remembering this earlier time, Harington’s face lights up.“My big tick list was the National, the Royal Court and the Donmar, and I’d just done the National. After graduating from Central School of Speech and Drama in 2008 he won a part in War Horse at the National and when the Game of Thrones pilot was shot, he was preparing for Posh – Laura Wade’s vicious satire on the Bullingdon Club – at the Royal Court. Harington was already enjoying a starburst career in the theatre. The pilot was a disaster and the series nearly didn’t get made. Game of Thrones was never meant to be a hit. But sometimes it feels like I’m a beautiful sunrise…” he says, before adding quickly “or a dying dog.” “I understand when you’re in a big show and you look like you do, people want to show their mate on Instagram or whatever. People taking pictures of you in the street as if you were a rare bird of prey.” Earlier we were together in the open air for perhaps a minute and Harington was stopped twice for photos. “It’s all this…” he gestures at my risotto… “This is the work. “Whatever the project, whether I believe in it creatively or not, whether I am getting up at 5am for a 17-hour shoot, the acting never feels like work,” he says. When Kit and I sit down for lunch in a London restaurant he confirms his father’s words. Photograph: HBO courtesy Everett Collection ‘I knew what I was doing with Jon Snow from the start’: in Game of Thrones, with Rose Leslie as Ygritte, his lover. Google Analytics thinks I’m a 17-year-old girl from South America.” “He’s so busy that sometimes the easiest way to find out what’s happening to him is to search online. His voice booms incomprehensibly from a speaker. “It’s all this other stuff that he gets paid for – the fame, the attention, the loss of privacy.” As if on cue, from somewhere beyond the wall comes a barrage of teenage shrieks. “The thing Kit always says is that he’d do the acting for free,” says Harington Sr. We stand in the drizzle and chat about his son. The man next to me, it turns out, is David Harington, or “Jon Snow’s father”, as he introduces himself, but even this is not enough to help him skip to the front. Dragons are projected on to the outer walls flaming torches line the approach. The programme is HBO and Sky Atlantic’s golden trumpet, so they have rented the Tower of London for the night and erected a 1,000-seat cinema in its moat. T wo weeks before I meet Kit Harington I am waiting to be let into the premiere of the fifth season of Game of Thrones and get talking to a middle-aged man.
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