Tea and a mag part two

Lewis is never more than a few sentences away from a joke --

 "a great sense of play," according to his Homeland co-star Claire Danes -- and it falls to his wife, three years his senior at 44, and herself a master in the art of the deadpan ("The really good thing about having babies, as I did, when you're 75 is that you've had a chance to establish your career first"), to gently praise his achievements. 

Thus, when Lewis admits how eaten-up he would have been if he had turned down the television show and watched another actor enjoying the heady levels of success he is currently experiencing, she puts a firm hand on his arm and purrs: "But darling, the point is that it wouldn't have been so brilliant if you hadn't done it."

Even if you don't happen to be one of the millions of people who describe Homeland as the greatest, edge-of-your-seat television show of the modern era, you have to admit that McCrory is right. Lewis's Brody is a masterful creation: a soldier turned terrorist turned double-agent with an inscrutable inner landscape and a flawless American accent. So flawless, in fact, that fans who approach him -- constantly, and with no regard for the fact that he might be in the middle of his lunch -- can't quite believe he's English.

And for all its intrusiveness, and it is intrusive, McCrory looks on or sometimes doesn't look on at all, with a deft mixture of pride and disinterest. Because she, of course, is a hugely successful actor in her own right -- a theatre great, most would say, with a very healthy television and film career to boot. "She's the real deal," says Richard Eyre, who directed here in a National Theatre production of Trelawny Of The Wells, for which she won an Ian Charleson award when she was just 24 years old. "I've never seen her act and not been absolutely captivated."

McCrory had carved out her own rock-solid career well before 2003, when she met and fell in love with Lewis in the rehearsal room of Five Gold Rings at the Almeida Theatre (they played illicit lovers). In the nine years since they got together, she has given birth to two children (an exhausting 14 months apart), committed herself to spending a large chunk of what she calls "the Calpol years" being there for them, and still managed to make her mark in films like Harry Potter (Narcissa Malfoy), The Queen (Cherie Blair) and Skyfall (Clair Dowar, MP). Just this summer, she earned rave reviews for her performance as Libby in Simon Beresford's debut, The Last Of The Haussmans, at the National Theatre and is currently playing the lead role of Aunt Polly in next autumn's hotly anticipated prime-time BBC drama Peaky Blinders.

Is it a coincidence that this couple's respective, already well-established careers seem to have soared since they found each other? Is there something to be said (think Dolce & Gahbana, Simon and Garfunkel, Brad and Angelina -- whatever you will) for the power of two?

"It was actually a PR person's idea that we got together," says Lewis, taking a thoughtful sip of red wine before putting an arm around his wife's shoulder and pulling her across the banquette towards him. "She's a Scientologist and I'm a Mormon."

"We've managed to create our own cult," drawls his wife.

to be continued