I would argue [princess] Margaret is the tragic figure of the century.

I really enjoyed stepping into that side of [princess Margaret] and being silly and naughty and fun.

I knew she was a party girl. The book I liked most on her was called [princess] Margaret: A Life of Contrasts and getting to know her, it was how conflicted her position and her internal life - or self - was. She is so fiercely royal and so fiercely "sister of the queen" or "daughter of the king" because that is her identity and it's all she's ever known. And at the same time she is struggling to push the boundaries and to break away from it, to be different or to modernize the monarchy, to turn it on its head.

I still get stage fright horribly. I still get nervous. I do tend to find when you're playing characters, often - just for the time you're playing them - there are sides of your personality that get stronger because you draw on them more.

It's this amazing combination to play, really, of somebody who's actually very fragile and hasn't really grown up properly yet - at least in a healthy environment - and has suffered immense loss with her dad - like that line where she says, [in the words of her father [King George VI], "Yes, 'Elizabeth is my pride but Margaret's my joy." She holds onto it!

I remember somebody saying something to me about Frost/Nixon, when Anthony Hopkins does his famous speech, and the difference in the way Anthony did it was to dramatize, essentially, what was a documentary-style version of that speech. I remember someone saying to me, "There is artistic liberty."

[Princess Margaret] was loud, an extrovert, an exhibitionist, loved fashion, loved color, loved music, loved drama, loved the theater, wanted to be a ballerina or actress, was always the little one putting on the school plays, and [princess] Elizabeth reluctantly did it and got stage fright.