Dominic Cooper and Samuel Barnett discuss the new film version of their Tony-winning sensation The History Boys.

By Christopher Wallenberg

It's an hour and a half before the curtain ascends on the Broadway production of The History Boys and the play's resident heartthrob Dominic Cooper is sweating bullets. But his perspiration has nothing to do with pre-performance jitters or a hot and sweaty workout session.

Rather, it's a humid summer afternoon, and the young British actor just hopped off his bicycle, which he frequently rides to the Broadhurst Theatre from his apartment in Lower Manhattan. He's joined in his cramped dressing room by one of his co-stars, Samuel Barnett. The two fresh-faced actors, who have become the breakout stars of History Boys, are talking about their roles in out author Alan Bennett's hit play, which was one of the hottest tickets on Broadway this year, captured a shelf-full of Tony Awards (including best play), and has been turned into a much-anticipated film that's opening in Los Angeles-area theaters on Nov. 21.

Despite the perspiration (or maybe because of it), the dark-haired Cooper, with his sleepy, puppy-dog eyes, olive skin and mischievous smile, looks even more fetching in person than on stage, where he plays History Boys' charismatic lothario, Dakin. Sporting a polo shirt with upturned collar, dark blue jeans, white sneakers and a striped sweatband, Cooper, 27, may seem like the epitome of hipster cool, but he's engaging, funny and surprisingly down-to-earth.

The same can be said of his fair-haired, fair-skinned cohort, Barnett, who earned a Tony Award nomination for his moving performance as the sensitive, pubescent gay lad Posner. Perched on the small cot in Cooper's dressing room, the 26-year-old actor projects an innocent boyishness that belies his intelligence and lively wit.

Although Barnett's character is seriously smitten with Cooper's Dakin, the two twenty-something actors seem more like brothers off-stage. They banter back and forth and razz each other with their acerbic British wit. Ceaseless (but good-natured) ribbing is a staple of backstage life among all the boys, they confess.

In both the film and play, Barnett's Posner is saddled with a heavy, unrequited crush on Cooper's smart-assed yet charming bad-boy. Posner sings show tunes and even serenades the class with a touching rendition of “Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered” while gazing longingly at Dakin. Meanwhile, Dakin, who's straight and shacking up with the headmaster's secretary, finds himself increasingly drawn to the young new instructor, Irwin (Stephen Campbell Moore), who's been hired to prepare and polish the boys for the daunting university admissions process. As Dakin seeks to win Irwin's approval, he learns how to use his blossoming sexual magnetism to his advantage.

“He's a character that can come across as extremely arrogant and unlikable,” explains Cooper of the dynamic Dakin. “But that's what has been exciting—trying to keep the charm about him and trying to make him still be very appealing to the audience… So it's about finding the right balance.”

While Cooper insists he's nothing like Dakin in real life, Barnett believes that all of the cast members infuse their characters with aspects of their own personalities. “As a group of eight boys, we now absolutely slot into those roles that we play [on stage] … At the end of the day, our own personalities bleed into and inform what we're doing on stage,” he says.

Set during the 1980s, The History Boys chronicles the story of a group of bright English secondary school students and their rotund, eccentric general studies teacher, Hector (Richard Griffiths), an inspiring maverick who believes in learning for learning's sake and in preparing the boys for the journey of life. However, the abrasive, results-driven headmaster (Clive Merrison) is obsessed with improving the school's standing and hires the shrewd new instructor, Irwin, in hopes of landing the boys spots at prestigious Oxford or Cambridge. Soon, Irwin is convincing the boys that success comes less from what you know, but more from how stylish and interesting you are in the presentation of that knowledge. This sets the stage for a battle for the boys' hearts and minds between the inspiring idealist Hector, the smart yet morally compromised Irwin and the pragmatic Mrs. Lintott (Frances de la Tour).

Directed by National Theatre honcho Nicholas Hytner (The Madness of King George), who also helmed the stage version, the film was shot two summers ago with the original cast after the play concluded its wildly successful run in the West End.

When Barnett first read the script, he admits that he didn't find it very funny, nor did he understand many of the references but says that Posner's sexuality was never an issue for him, nor did it present any particular challenges. It's simply one aspect of the character. And although Bennett's script may have confounded Barnett at first, he eventually found a way into Posner's inner life through the character's emotional journey of unrequited love. “Regardless of sexuality, everybody experiences [unrequited love] at some point in their lives—usually at the most painful and crucial time, when you're growing up and all those hormones are flying around,” says Barnett. “So I approached the character in the same way that I've approached any other character that I've played. [Posner] just happens to be gay.”

Of course, he and his fellow actors did discuss the improbability of a gay student like Posner being accepted by his peers in an all-boys secondary school during the Reagan-Thatcher 1980s. “The way I see it, the whole film is kind of set in a very heightened reality,” explains Barnett. “A character like Posner, certainly where I'm from [in the north of England], it wouldn't have been acceptable [for him to be out].”

Yet in rehearsals Barnett and his fellow actors reasoned that since the group of boys had been together for seven years, if there was any kind of aggression or bullying directed at Posner, it would have already happened. “They've all taken the piss out of him already,” suggests Barnett. “And they're operating on a higher plane now. There are more important things to worry about. Also, it's probably really boring for all of them with Posner mooning over Dakin all the time.”

Like their characters, Barnett and Cooper also attended school together—although it was at university, at the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Art (LAMDA). Acting, though, was a career choice of last resort for both young men. “I was academically hopeless and on the verge of being chucked out of school,” says Cooper, who was raised in Greenwich, England. It was then that the drama instructor urged him to try out for the Emcee role in Cabaret. That changed his life. “If I hadn't gotten involved in acting, God knows what I would have done,” he posits. Still, Cooper never considered training professionally until his drama teacher suggested it. “I hated that age. It was just absolute panic and angst. Guidance [counselors] kept saying things like, 'What are you going to do with your life? You're going to be destitute. You're going to be on the streets.'”

Growing up in North Yorkshire, Barnett, too, was lost when it came time to decide on a path in life. Although he was a straight-A student and had been performing since the age of 10, he was reluctant to try his hand at drama school. A friend eventually filled out his application forms because he wouldn't do it. “I had these preconceptions about drama school. I said, 'No, that's what proper actors do.'”

So where do the two young men stand in terms of the play's debate about the purposes of education in a results-driven world? Do they sympathize with Hector, the inspiring idealist, who advocates learning for learning's sake? Or are they on the side of Irwin, who advocates style over substance?

“Different pupils react [better] to different things. Some kids would react very badly to a teacher like Hector. [He] would do them no good whatsoever,” replies Cooper. “And other kids—more artistic kids—would flourish.”

Barnett believes that there's got to be a happy medium between the two approaches: “You've got to get students through school because that's the system. But you've also got to teach them how to be human beings and how to grow up so they can get through life. If you don't do both, then I'd say you've not got a good system. I think you need Hector and you need Irwin. But you need more diluted versions of the both of them.”