JAY LYCURGO
- 5' ELEVEN''
- 5 days ago
- 4 min read

At the edge of the set, Jay Lycurgo sits quietly with his hood up, Walkman on, and a copy of Shy open in his hands. His playlist for Steve hums a restless beat in his ears as he focuses on the pages. “It became like a Bible for me,” he says, smiling at the memory. “If you wanted to find me on set, I’d be in the corner with my headphones on, just reading it relentlessly.”
Words by Sabrina Ciauri.
Photographed by Panos Damaskinidis. Styled by Alton Hetariki. Grooming by Nohelia Reyes using Fenty Beauty. Photographer assisted by Millie Noble. Jay appears courtesy of Public Eye.

This autumn, Jay Lycurgo returns to the Toronto International Film Festival for Steve, his new feature alongside Cillian Murphy. The film captures the fragile tension between a teenage boy and his teacher, exploring rage, silence, and the vulnerability of being understood. “I remember being in Toronto a few years ago,” he says. “Watching other actors doing Q&As. Thinking, man, I’d love to be up there one day. Now I’m here. It feels surreal.”
Lycurgo’s connection to the film runs deep. His father works in alternative education, and even during the audition stage, he began learning. “I talked to my dad straight away,” he says. “Then I started going into schools, speaking to teachers, hearing what it’s like to work with kids who are unpredictable. The exhaustion, the chaos, but also the love. I wanted to understand what they carry.”
There is a rawness in his words that reveals the level of empathy the role demanded, not a performance but a presence. “I wasn’t just playing a boy who’s struggling,” he says. “I was playing someone trying to survive in a system that’s already fragile.”
Left: PU workwear jacket by Feng Cheng Wang. Striped cotton shirt by Zegna. Silk tie by AMI Paris. Tailored wool pleated trousers and leather lace up driver shoes, both by Ferragamo; Right: ‘Kholi’ wool coat by Ahluwalia. ‘Puppytooth’ flannel safari jacket by Huntsman. Striped cotton shirt by Zegna. Tailored pleated wool trousers by Ferragamo
Before filming began, the cast spent two weeks in workshops at an empty school near Bath. “Tim made us explore every relationship from Shy and Steve, Shy and Amanda, and the boys. We’d talk, move, and improvise. It felt like going back to drama school.” He pauses, searching for the words. “It made me feel free.”

Freedom becomes a quiet rebellion in Steve, one that defines Shy as a character, even in costume. “I talked a lot with Allison, our costume designer,” he explains. “We thought about whether Shy’s clothes should feel tight and suffocating or loose and freeing. In the end, we went with a baggy hoodie and trousers. It felt honest.” That decision shaped many of the scenes in the film. “There are moments when you don’t see my face, just the hood,” he says. “For me, that hood was protection. It was him saying, "I don't want to be seen.” Then, he adds, “When you’re a teenager, clothes become your only control. They say what you can’t.”
When he speaks about filming, his voice softens and slows, as if he is revisiting the familiar world he built. He remembers one scene in particular, a confrontation between Shy and Steve at the top of the stairs. “We did about eight takes,” he recalls. “I didn’t want to leave Steve there. I just burst out crying because Shy’s self-sabotaging. He doesn’t know how to express himself. And on the other side, there’s this grown man, a teacher, who wants to help but can’t. That broke me.”
With Cillian Murphy, there was an unspoken connection and shared understanding. “We didn’t talk much about what the characters should feel,” Jay says. “We just felt it. You don’t always get that. But with Cillian, it was like lightning in a bottle.”

As the conversation moves toward masculinity, Lycurgo reflects quietly. “We’re not challenging it,” he says. “It’s already there. We all know men struggle to be open. What Steve does is show it, not try to fix it, just to simply see it.” For him, it is about awareness and understanding. “We just have to communicate better, be aware, and be gentle.”
He returns to the subject of teachers, the unseen mentors who contribute to shaping us all. “We all have that one teacher, the one who pushed us when we didn’t want to be pushed.” He remembers his own teacher, the one who guided him to apply to drama school and with whom he has recently reconnected. It is what Steve is really about, the teachers we didn’t thank, the mentors who shone the light. “No one needs to struggle alone,” he says. “We all just need someone to guide us when we’re in the dark.”
My final question for Lycurgo was about the feeling he wants people to leave with when they watch Steve. He doesn’t rush. After a long pause, he answers, “Patience. Love. Joy.” He smiles gently. “That’s what I’d want, for people to understand when someone’s struggling, and to hold the light for them.”
This interview is inside The CINEMA Issue 15. Purchase your copy here.





