Scottish Correspondent Matthew Allan sat down with Bryan Larkin to discuss his work on Vasily Chuprina’s directorial debut, Jailbroken, showing at FrightFest Glasgow 2026, a part of Glasgow Film Festival.
Bryan was born in Glasgow but was raised in East Kilbride. Over the last ten years, Bryan has worked on projects such as London Has Fallen (2016) and Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves (2023).
Becoming a very familiar face within the Chinese and South Korean film and TV space, alongside Donnie Yen and Park Hae-soo, Bryan returns home for Jailbroken’s world premiere at the Glasgow Film Festival 2026.
The following interview has been edited for clarity and length.
Matthew: Regarding your career as an actor, what stood out to me was the sense of a journey with exciting independent films like Jailbroken, to big-budget films like the very underappreciated Dungeons and Dragons: Honour Among Thieves. So, how has that journey been?
Bryan: I’m genuinely grateful for every level of work I’ve had, because each one taught me something different. Big films taught me discipline and precision. Smaller films taught me collaboration and trust. I don’t feel above either, and I don’t feel intimidated by either. I’m just glad I’ve been able to move between them.
It’s been a really valuable journey, because I’ve seen how scale changes everything. In bigger films, money solves problems quickly. If something isn’t working, there are resources to fix it. But that also brings pressure, because every decision affects hundreds of people.
I remember on London Has Fallen having a conversation with Gerard Butler and his manager, Alan Siegel, because they were personally invested in the film. When people have their own money in something, the responsibility is real.
I joked that I’d try to save them some money and only need one take. And in the end, that’s what happened, because I’d prepared properly. I spent the night on B unit, finished early, and it helped the whole schedule.
That approach hasn’t changed for me. Whether it’s a small film or a big one, I try to arrive ready. Not just with the lines learned, but with ideas, options, and flexibility. So if something changes, or if they ask for something unexpected, I’m not scrambling.
On smaller films, that preparation gives you creative freedom. On bigger films, it builds trust. In both cases, it’s about respect for everyone’s time. That’s what I’ve carried through my career.
Matthew: On Jailbroken, what stands out to me straightaway is the opportunity to collaborate with local talent. What was it that drew you to film?
Bryan: In many ways, it’s a Scottish film, yes, but that wasn’t the main reason I said yes. The real attraction for me was the script and the people behind it.
I’d known Raymond Friel for years, and he told me he’d written it with me in mind. When I read it, I knew straight away it was a gift. It was rare material, and I felt a responsibility to do it justice.
There was also the chance to work with David Hayman, whom I’ve known just as long, and with Vasily on his first feature. I knew how much it meant to him.
What made this project special is that I had time. Time to prepare properly. Time to live with the character. Time to bring ideas. You don’t always get that luxury.
We also had a really healthy mix of experience and youth. People like our DP, who were generous and open with the younger crew, and young filmmakers who were hungry to learn. That atmosphere is incredibly rewarding, because you’re building something together.
And with Kathy Speirs one of our producers, I knew the film would be supported properly and given a real platform.
In the end, it came down to trust. I trusted the script, I trusted the people, and I trusted that we were all taking it seriously. That’s what made me commit.”
Matthew: You have found a lot of success in Asia, in China and South Korea. With working in these industries, what skills or biggest surprises have you taken with you?
Bryan: One of the biggest things I’ve learned is that Asia isn’t one creative culture, it’s many. Working in China is very different from working in Korea, and both are as different from each other as Scotland is from America.
In South Korea, I had the privilege of working alongside actors like Park Hae-soo, who people around the world know from Squid Game, and Hwang Jung-min. They’re household names there. I got to spend months watching how they worked, talking about process, and learning from them.
What really stayed with me was their focus on contradiction, finding the gap between a character’s physical presence and their inner psychology. That idea fed directly into how I approached Joe. He’s physically strong, disciplined, and built like a warrior, but emotionally, he’s underdeveloped. He’s street-smart and witty, but when he’s challenged, he falls back on control and manipulation. That imbalance became the heart of the character.
China is almost the opposite experience. They work incredibly fast. Often, you get the script very late, there’s little rehearsal, and you’re expected to deliver immediately, even on huge productions. That can be intimidating, because there’s very little safety net.
What that taught me was trust in instinct. You can’t over-prepare; you have to be present, adaptable, and ready to make strong choices quickly. Over time, that’s become one of my strengths there. Producers know I can walk in, understand the material fast, and deliver without needing a lot of hand-holding.
So Korea sharpened my psychological depth, China sharpened my instincts, and both made me a more complete actor.
Matthew: This is a one-location film, and I am interested in how you spend that much time in one jail cell. Did this unlock areas of Joe, your character, that you didn’t expect?
Bryan: I don’t believe in relying on one system as an actor. Every project has its own energy and its own demands. What works on one film doesn’t necessarily work on another.
With Jailbroken, I was initially intimidated because Joe is such a layered character. I knew I had to find a way of showing multiple sides of him, and that wasn’t immediately obvious on the page.
Raymond Friel’s script was very minimal in terms of direction. It tells you what happens and where you are, but it doesn’t tell you how to feel about it. There’s very little psychological hand-holding. That’s a gift, but it also comes with huge responsibility, because you have to do the inner work yourself.
For me, this isn’t really a story about redemption. It’s a story about exposure. His past is exposed. His lies are exposed. His self-image is exposed. And he has to confront all of that inside a confined space, with nowhere to hide.
One of the most important things I learned from playing him is that understanding a character is not the same as excusing them. The script never tells the audience what to think about Joe. It doesn’t moralize his behavior. It presents him honestly, and it lets people decide for themselves whether he deserves empathy.
My job was to honour that honesty, not to soften him, not to judge him, just to tell the truth.
Matthew: This was directed by Vasily Chuprina, marking his directorial debut as an actor. How exciting was it to work with Vasily as he made his first feature? Did it also bring an extra sense of responsibility?
Bryan: For a lot of people, this was their first feature, and that carries real weight. When you’re asking people to give months of their lives to something that isn’t going to make them rich, it has to mean more than just getting a credit.
With Jailbroken, I could feel how much it mattered to Vasily. He wasn’t just trying to make a film. He was trying to make his film. And when you feel that level of commitment from a director, it changes how you show up.
On smaller productions, the real challenge is figuring out how to achieve ambition with limited resources. You’re constantly asking, ‘What’s possible with what we actually have?’ That requires honesty, creativity, and trust.
As the lead, there’s a responsibility there. I’ve done it many times now, and whether it’s a big budget or a small one, you’re always managing expectations. You’re trying to protect the story, protect the schedule, and help everyone do their best work within the time and money available.
What made this special is that I never felt like I was just there to serve the film. I felt like I mattered to the people making it. That mutual respect is what makes the sacrifice worthwhile.
I think it’s a fantastic debut for Vasily. He had strong ideas, real courage, and the willingness to listen. I’m genuinely grateful that he trusted me with something that meant so much to him. That’s an honor.
Matthew: You got to work with David Hayman in Jailbroken. As a fellow Scot myself, how exciting was it to work with one of Scotland’s great character actors?
Bryan: It meant a great deal to me, because David and I have known each other for nearly twenty years, not just as actors, but as people.
Working with David, you’re working with someone who has immense experience, but also real integrity. Early in my career, when I was struggling, he gave me work through his charity, helping young people learn editing and creative skills. He didn’t have to do that. He did it because that’s who he is.
Finally getting to share the screen with him on Jailbroken felt very special. It was like a reunion, but also a new chapter. When you’re standing opposite him on set, you feel the years of experience. He’s completely present. Every take is fresh. Nothing is automatic.
What’s beautiful is the sense of a full circle. It’s been around forty-five years sinceA Sense of Freedom, where he played Jimmy Boyle in a prison cell. Now here he is again, in a Scottish prison story, but passing something on to a new generation. Being part of that with him was a real honor.
And the same goes for Douglas Russell. I’ve worked with him four times now. I recommended him for this role, and Vasily already knew his work. What I love about both of them is how different they are from the characters they play. That’s the real mark of craft.
These are the kinds of people you want to work with, not just because they’re talented, but because they raise the standard of everyone around them.
Matthew: You are Glaswegian, you know how brutally honest we can be, but even then, how
exciting was it to bring this film back home? Has it made the journey worth it?
Bryan: It really has. Because Glasgow is honest. If something isn’t good, people will let you know. And if they like it, you know it’s real. So bringing Jailbroken back here feels meaningful in a way that’s hard to describe.
I’ve travelled all over the world for work, and I’m grateful for that, but this is where I’m from. This is where I learned resilience. This is where I learned not to get carried away with myself. Growing up here gives you a thick skin and a strong work ethic.
Matthew: Finally, what changes do you see happening in Scottish Film at the moment?
Bryan: I won’t pretend I’m plugged into every policy meeting or funding discussion in Scotland, but I’m very aware of what people are dealing with just now.
Independent film everywhere is under pressure. Not just here. Globally. It’s easier than ever to make something, but harder than ever to sustain a career or get real visibility.
Everyone can pick up a phone and create now, which is brilliant in one sense. It’s democratic. But it also means the market is saturated, and standing out requires more than just talent. It requires strategy, support, and patience.
I don’t think attention spans have disappeared. People still commit to great stories. What’s changed is that audiences have infinite choice. So the bar is higher.
In Scotland, I see huge talent. Writers, actors, crews. What we need is stronger pathways that allow people to develop over time, not just jump from short project to short project.
Personally, I’d love to work more here. I care about Scottish storytelling, and I’m always open to projects that have ambition and integrity behind them.
I’m optimistic, but I think we have to be realistic as well. It’s a tough climate. That makes craft and community more important than ever.
Interview Courtesy of Matthew Allan
Feature Image Courtesy of Jailbroken Film, Ltd