From theGary Oldman-ledSlow HorsestoJon Hamm’sYour Friends & Neighbors, Apple TV+ is one of the finest streamers for high-quality crime-based stories. The most recent addition to this list has beenSmoke, the tale of a detective and an arson investigator duo who will stop at nothing in their cat-and-mouse chase with a pair of serial arsonists. StarringTaron Egerton, the series sees theRocketmanactor reunite with writer and creatorDennis Lehanefollowing their previous work onBlack Bird, which earned Egerton an Emmy nomination.
Now, just seven episodes in — with only two remaining this season —Smokehas unexpectedly twisted the knife in its latest chapter, “Whitewashed Tombs,” which hits especially hardfollowing the tragic, gut-wrenching death of Freddy Fasano (Ntare Guma Mbaho Mwine), who dies by suicide in prison. After being manipulated, discarded, and ultimately dehumanized by the very people who claimed to want justice, Freddy takes his own life with his final moments unfolding in a haunting sequence that flashes through his past, offering an unflinching look at pain, memory, and a system that failed him.
In the aftermath of Freddy’s final episode, Collider’sTania Hussainsat down with Mwine to reflect on his character’s complex and heartbreaking arc. The pair dug into what first drew him to Freddy, how he approached the final moments of the episode, and even took a detour to his go-to in-car karaoke track, for a brief, soulful breath between the flames.
Playing Freddy Was a Huge Leap of Faith for Mwine
COLLIDER: To start off things a little bit, fun, there is a scene where Taron’s character Dave is singing Michael Bolton in the car. What is your in-car karaoke go-to track?
NTARE GUMA MBAHO MWINE: Wow. You know what? It’s probably one of my kids’ songs. I have a six and an eight-year-old, and my wife started this thing, like a DJ thing, where each of them becomes their own MC. We just drove to Sag Harbor, and we go around the car, each of us, my six-year-old, my eight-year-old, me, my wife, as an MC, rocking the crowd. That’s not a song, but we’re creating our own songs.
It’s nice when you’re able to make up songs on the spot because who needs “Baby Shark,” right? Getting into the show, with Freddy’s introduction as a seemingly ordinary fry cook, you really do connect with him so quickly, but then you start to see these layers unfold, and he secretly enjoys people’s suffering, which is very unsettling. What drew you to this complex character, and how did you approach playing him?
MWINE: One of the things that Dennis Lehane does is get into the minds of disturbed people. [Laughs] He creates these psychological thrillers, deranged characters, and for actors, it’s just a dream to be able to explore and play within the range of emotions that he gives you. But at the same time, it was tough standing at the edge of a high diving board, scared to take the plunge, because I didn’t have, really, a point of reference for Freddy. I had no personal experience to the kind of life he lived. I didn’t know anyone who had an experience that he had. I asked Dennis, “What was your starting point?” He just said, “The imagination.” Just having creative license to play and try to give yourself over to those circumstances and see what that does through you to give voice to those words and those actions. So, for me, that was the creative license. That’s all I needed. And then I was off and running.
Freddy’s Tragic End Was the “Ultimate Form of Self-Destruction”
“We get to see each character try to come to terms with their circumstances and end up making things worse.”
There are so many scenes where you think this person can change. There are so many different layers to him, but the scene where he cries while getting a haircut is very emotionally charged. When he reflects on the past, how do you see this moment relating to his actions as an arsonist? Because I feel like he is trying to come to terms with who he is, but it’s hard for him.
MWINE: Jean-Michel Basquiat, a great artist, once said — I’m misquoting it, but that lighting fires is the greatest cry for help, and I think that is true for the two serial arsonists in this show. They are in dire straits in some way, shape, or form in their own sort of realms, and not able to come to terms with the circumstances that they’re in, and that setting fires is some sort of a release, a destructive release at that. That was the human condition; we are born to do self-destructive behavior. We’ve all been in situations where we want the best from something, and we end up lashing out or making things worse, or we make relationships worse, or we self-destruct at the point where we really needed to shine. So, I think that’s what was really fun to sort of explore and dive into because it’s part of the human condition where some people crumble when they’re just supposed to put one step forward.
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Identity is a huge thing in this show. We see so many different aspects of identity, and unfortunately, Freddy’s final act is very tragic. He ultimately chooses to end his life. How do you see Freddy’s journey coming full circle in this episode, especially in the eighth episode, and what does that death symbolize in the broader narrative of the series?
MWINE: I think it’s the ultimate form of self-destruction, really. We get to see each character try to come to terms with their circumstances and end up making things worse. We hope for the best for them. They do, too, but they end up still doing things that make things more complicated and difficult to untangle and unwind. We still hope for the best. After the big showdown between my character and Taron’s character, we might hope for the best for Freddy or something to come, but no, he self-destructs. Ultimately, I think all of these characters, their inability to live in their ideal, leads them to a path of self-destruction.
