Born in Lancashire in 1986, actor Harriet Webb’s breakthrough role was as Theodora in Michaela Coel’s Bafta-winning 2020 series I May Destroy You. She has appeared in The Split, White Gold, Plebs and Wreck, and stars in Channel 4’s Big Boys as Shannon and as Kirsty in Sky comedy Mr Bigstuff.
This image sums up how I spent most of my days as a four-year-old – splashing around in the River Bela in Cumbria, wearing a dress, looking for fish, and collecting stones that I would take home and paint.
My auntie Pat was behind the camera. She was an art teacher and really encouraged my imagination. We spent a lot of time together and she was a big influence on my artistic growth – I was a compulsive storyteller and she was one of the only people who indulged in the insane anecdotes that I would concoct in the hope that I’d make someone laugh. Pat would even write me long letters reflecting on the minutiae of my performance in whatever primary school play she had seen me in. She was such a fan, and gave me the belief that I could do anything.
At this age I was curious and enthusiastic – the sort of girl who jumped into everything with full force; something that is still true to this day. I had a wonderful childhood in a village called Arkholme and inherited this base-level optimism; a faith that has very much been given to me by my parents and my brother and sister, through the pretty, wonderful, consistent and sunny life I was lucky to have. There was always laughter and a lot of conversation in our house.
One of my first memories of wanting to be an actor was seeing my brother Will perform in his school play and doing a scouse accent. I’d never seen him do anything like that before, or since, and I was gobsmacked by how amazing he was. I idolised him for it and it was a real lightbulb moment. I thought: “Whatever it was that he just did, I need to do it, too.” After that, I started performing in village talent shows, doing a kind of rip-off Victoria Wood act. Even though it was probably rubbish, it made people laugh, and entertaining people gave me such a buzz.
I had an innocent start in life, and as a result I got to be a child for a really long time. Probably too long. I was wearing Minnie Mouse leggings until I was about 15. I didn’t even think about how I looked or what I was wearing until I was way older. For a while, I dabbled in a bit of skate culture – wearing a tea cosy on my head like a hat, with my two buns popping out of the holes. It was actually quite radical in Arkholme. There were some strange haircuts, too. Toni & Guy had taken over the streets, so I sported quite a few feathered Rod Stewart cuts in my adolescence.
I never had the inclination to rebel. I respected my parents too much to do anything that might get me in trouble. It wasn’t until I was in my 20s that I started experimenting with more permanent things like piercings, or the terrible tattoo I got in Berlin. It’s a rectangle on my arm. As soon as I got it I wanted to gouge it off. I can’t even go into what it means, because it’s ludicrous.
I studied at Paul McCartney’s Liverpool Institute for Performing Arts, a place with an incredible atmosphere – a true melting pot of artists, designers, actors and musicians. I made it through those years mostly unscathed, though one teacher did once tell me I needed to lose 10 stone so I could “be like everyone else”. For a young actor just starting out, being asked to fundamentally change who you are is about the worst thing you can hear. It was especially baffling given that the advice came from someone who was also overweight. Did I take it? No. Partly because I was too lazy, but mostly because I was stubborn enough to know I didn’t need to. I was good, and knew that people would recognise that no matter what size I was. In many ways that moment was the making of me; and taught me to lean in and own who I really am.
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Aside from that, I had an easy time studying, and made some amazing friends who I ended up living with in London, in a Withnail and I-esque house in Finchley. It was freezing cold, there was ice on the inside of the windows, and we had to wear all of our clothes at once just to survive winter without contracting pneumonia. On top of trying to make it as an actor, I worked as a teacher and as host at a restaurant in Peckham called Forza Wine, both of which are essentially just ways of making money while performing. When I wasn’t doing that, I was going out a lot in Soho and Camden. My extended childhood very much continued into my 20s.
There wasn’t a big break in my career but lots of tiny taps – the odd TV credit here and there. I was delighted if I got three lines in an episode. I was playing to my casting a lot, mainly doing a lot of the “fat funny friend” parts. I still do some of that now, but I don’t think there’s any shame in utilising what you’ve got if it leads to an opportunity further down the line to show your other dimensions.
The script for I May Destroy You arrived out of the blue. I’d never read anything like it – the words jumped off the page and I could see the world that Michaela Coel had created immediately. I did one self tape, then an audition, and two days later I got the part. I didn’t meet Michaela until the first day we filmed together – her presence on set was so inspiring. She carries herself with grace and warmth and hilarity, and because she operates on such a level, everyone else matches it, too.
I’ve also learned so much from [Mr Bigstuff co-stars] Danny Dyer and Ryan Sampson. They are both total perfectionists. I am, too, even though I appear very scatty. Danny has never dropped a word of a line and he never corpses. Whereas he just has to look at me in a certain way and I’m gone. He has zero ego, and brings an energy that’s galvanising.
I am really hard on myself and like to get things right. My drive comes from blind self-belief – knowing I can do better all the time – which can be really exhausting. I would honestly do 100 takes if a director wanted me to, because there’s always something at the bottom of the barrel that’s not quite been explored yet. I also think I get parts because I am easy to be around. [Big Boys creator] Jack Rooke once called me “provocatively kind”. I still don’t know exactly what that means, but I do believe there’s a virtue to being nice and fun to have on set, qualities that are often underestimated in this industry.
All of which I owe to that little girl in the dress. I’m not assertive when it comes to my career, but I’ve got this low-level sense that everything is going to come good. Even though I spend less time ankle deep in a river, I am still filled with hope and curiosity.

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