• OUT • 12 APRIL
“HEEEY, WHATSSSUPP!” David Harbour barrels into the room, bellowing and giggling. “Sorry I’m late,” he booms, ruffling his hair, fresh from having today’s paint and prosthetics removed. “I wasn’t supposed to take that long but, you know, you can’t rush genius.” A little red remains. “I leave this on to wander around Bulgaria. They de-rig me of all the stuff and are like, ‘Do you wanna take this off?’ and I’m like, ‘No, I’m in Bulgaria, I’m just gonna sleep anyway, eat shopska salad, so fuck it. HA HA HA!’”
It’s the end of the day in Sofia, where, in a studio aptly surrounded by forests and mountains, Harbour has been stomping around, tail swinging, as everybody’s favourite half-horned half-demon of the Apocalypse, although the…