‘How do I deal with my rage? I put it in everything I do’: Killing Eve’s Sandra Oh on fury, friendship and hitting her prime in midlife
How to Deal with Rage: Sandra Oh on Killing Eve, Midlife and Theatre
How do I deal with my rage - Sandra Oh, the star of Killing Eve, sits backstage at the National Theatre in London, radiating a vibrant energy after a rehearsal. At 54, the actress—renowned for her commanding screen presence—sports a casual brown linen outfit, complemented by a herringbone jacket and a hat. She quickly removes her sunglasses, slumps into a chair, and leans forward with a theatrical sigh. “How do I deal with my rage?” she asks, half-laughing. “It’s part of the process. We just completed our first run-through, and making it through was a win. It’s brutal, but the intimacy of the Lyttelton Theatre really brings the language to life. You hear every nuance, not just volume or pace. It’s not just about intention alone—this space teaches you so much.” Her words are punctuated by a pause, then a burst of unapologetic laughter.
A New Chapter in Theatre
Oh is currently portraying Alice, a gender-swapped version of Molière’s *Le Misanthrope*, in a modern adaptation. The character, disillusioned with the superficiality of her world, represents a deliberate shift from her television career. Eight years after Killing Eve launched her global fame, she’s embracing the stage as a space for artistic reinvention. That show, part of a four-season run, became a cultural phenomenon and redefined her career. Polastri, the eccentric British intelligence agent, and Villanelle, the enigmatic assassin, formed a dynamic duo that captured the essence of espionage with a sharp, witty edge.
Her transition to theatre highlights a commitment to growth. “Working in theatre is a collaborative act,” she explains. “It’s not just about individual glory—everyone has to bring their best and most open selves. And when you succeed, it’s a collective triumph.” This ethos aligns with her current role, where she’s exploring the subtleties of performance beyond the screen. Her recent ventures include a star-studded *Twelfth Night* at New York’s Delacorte Theater and a debut at the Metropolitan Opera, showcasing her versatility as an artist.
The Power of Midlife
Oh has become a symbol of midlife confidence in Hollywood. “I’ve grown into my prime,” she says. “And I find that incredibly liberating, but also enraging.” The duality of her experience reflects a journey from professional insecurity to self-assured artistry. “How do I deal with this rage?” she muses. “It’s not just about the work—it’s about the space I’ve carved for myself. You can’t hide behind a camera when you’re on stage. It demands presence, vulnerability, and a deeper connection with the audience.”
Her insights are rooted in personal reflection, as evidenced by her lifelong diaries. Excerpts have appeared in media, revealing a literary mind grounded in community and heritage. Born in Ottawa, Canada, she still keeps ties with childhood friends, a testament to her roots. “We loved her 20 years ago as Dr Cristina Yang in *Grey’s Anatomy*—a sharp, brilliant cardiothoracic surgeon,” she recalls. “But now, I’m more like a sage, someone who’s found her footing and is unafraid to ask the hard questions.”
Dealing with midlife rage has become a driving force in her creative choices. “It’s in everything I do,” she says, gesturing toward her current role. “This character, Alice, is a reflection of that fury. She’s not just acting—she’s embodying a woman who’s tired of pretending. The stage allows me to explore that without filters.” Her candidness about rage underscores a broader theme: how midlife experiences shape both personal and professional growth.
Oh’s journey from screen to stage has also been a path of self-discovery. “How do I deal with the pressure of being a global icon?” she asks. “I turn it into fuel. The stage is where I can be fully present, not just in the role but in the moment. It’s a space that rewards authenticity, and that’s what I’ve been seeking all along.” Her recent project at the National Theatre is a testament to that pursuit.