Honestly, if you saw a 6'4" American actor walking down the street, your first thought probably wouldn't be: "Hey, that guy should play the 5'6" British Bulldog."
But that’s exactly what happened with John Lithgow.
When Netflix announced that an American—a guy best known for being a goofy alien on 3rd Rock from the Sun or a terrifying serial killer on Dexter—would play Winston Churchill in The Crown, the internet did what it does best. It panicked. People were skeptical. How could a New Yorker capture the essence of the man who saved Britain?
The "American Problem" and Why It Actually Worked
Casting Lithgow wasn't just some random fluke. It was a calculated risk by director Stephen Daldry and creator Peter Morgan. Most people don’t realize that Winston Churchill actually had deep American roots. His mother, Jennie Jerome, was a wealthy American socialite from Brooklyn.
Lithgow often mentions that when he asked Daldry, "Why me?" the director immediately pointed to Churchill’s American mother. He wanted an actor who could tap into that specific affinity Churchill had for the United States.
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It worked.
But it wasn't easy. Lithgow was the only American in a sea of British heavyweights. He spent 18 months barely hearing an American accent besides his wife’s. Talk about pressure. He later admitted he was "thrilled and terrified" in equal measure, overcompensating by diving into research so deep he practically became a Churchill scholar.
The Physics of Shrinking a Giant
How do you turn a man who towers over everyone into a short, squat prime minister?
You don't just use camera tricks. You use cotton.
Lithgow’s transformation was surprisingly low-tech. To get that signature Churchillian nasal wheeze and those sagging jowls, he literally stuffed cotton wool up his nose. He also used "plumpers"—dental devices that snapped onto his back teeth to push his cheeks out.
He even shared a weirdly brilliant story about his early rehearsal process. He took a melon baller, scooped out two little chunks of apple, and tucked them into his cheeks.
- The Result: A voice that sounded like it was echoing in a hollow chamber.
- The Downside: His mouth kept filling with apple juice while he was trying to deliver grand speeches.
Beyond the fruit-based experiments, he wore a massive fat suit that added 80 pounds of bulk, specifically designed to give him Churchill’s "fat back" and hunched silhouette. He didn't just stand there; he collapsed into the role. He "thought short." By the time the cameras rolled, he wasn't a 6'4" actor anymore. He was a frail, stubborn, 80-year-old statesman.
Why Lithgow’s Churchill Still Matters
We’ve seen a dozen Churchills. Gary Oldman won an Oscar for it. Robert Hardy made a career out of it. So why does Lithgow’s version stick in the brain?
It’s the vulnerability.
Most portrayals focus on the "V for Victory" speeches and the cigar-chomping bravado. The Crown gave us something different: a man facing his own obsolescence. Lithgow captured the "Black Dog"—the depression that famously haunted Churchill.
In Season 1, Episode 9, "Assassins," we see him sitting for a portrait by Graham Sutherland. It’s some of the best acting you’ll ever see. He’s not a hero there. He’s a grumpy, decaying man who is furious that the mirror (and the canvas) is showing him the truth of his age.
He won an Emmy for Outstanding Supporting Actor for a reason. He made a legend feel like a person. A flawed, annoying, brilliant, and deeply insecure person.
The Secrets Behind the Performance
If you're an aspiring actor or just a fan of the craft, Lithgow’s approach is a masterclass in "outside-in" acting.
- The Speech Impediment: Churchill had a complex lisp that came from the back of his mouth. Lithgow didn't just "do an accent"; he studied the mechanics of how Churchill’s tongue hit his teeth.
- The Cigar Myth: On set, you aren't allowed to smoke real tobacco. Lithgow had to chew on "vegetable cigars" that tasted absolutely "dreadful." He made it look like he was enjoying a premium Havana, but in reality, he was basically smoking a compost heap.
- The Painting: Lithgow is a real-life painter. In those scenes where Churchill is dabbing at a canvas in the garden to fight off his depression, that’s not a hand double. That’s Lithgow’s actual technique and appreciation for the art showing through.
What You Can Learn From This Transformation
Whether you're a history buff or just a Netflix binger, the takeaway from John Lithgow’s Winston Churchill is about perspective. He proved that "essence" is more important than "accuracy." He wasn't the right height. He wasn't the right nationality.
But he was the right spirit.
If you want to dive deeper into why this performance worked, your best bet is to re-watch Season 1 of The Crown, specifically paying attention to his posture. Watch how he uses his neck. He never stands fully upright. He carries the weight of the British Empire on his shoulders, and you can see it in every vertebrae.
To truly appreciate the nuance, compare his performance to the actual archival footage of Churchill’s 80th birthday speech. You’ll see that Lithgow didn't just mimic the man; he interpreted the grief of a leader who knew his time was up.
Next time you're watching a "transformative" performance, look for the "plumpers." It’s often the smallest, most uncomfortable physical changes—like cotton in a nose or apple bits in a cheek—that create the most convincing illusions.
Actionable Insight: Watch Episode 4, "Act of God," which covers the Great Smog of 1952. It’s the perfect showcase of Lithgow’s Churchill at his most stubborn and politically vulnerable. Pay attention to how he uses the cigar not just as a prop, but as a weapon and a shield during his confrontations with his cabinet.