I was the only boy of five and my sisters would have said I was a spoiled child. It didn’t feel like it – they went off to a convent school and I was left at home in Belfast to do the hoovering with my mother. Every boy back then was trying to be George Best, so I was always out kicking a football. We were Catholic, but not furiously strict. I was even an altar boy for a while.
I was still at school when the Troubles started in 1969. We lived in a mixed area and weren’t targeted, but you were very aware of explosions, and while it was fearful and dangerous, it was also weirdly exciting. There was something electric in the air for a kid who didn’t understand mortality yet.
I did Irish dance from the ages of six to 19 and became quite proficient at it. Our teacher, Patricia Mulholland, was a great classical violinist and would play traditional tunes while we danced. Schools were segregated, but Patricia believed dancing was for everyone, so we were a mixed community. That was a great opening for me.
There was some trepidation at home about me becoming an actor, so I studied law at Queen’s University Belfast. One of my tutors was someone I’d been in a school production of Macbeth with years before. He could tell I was in no way interested in law and suggested I study theatre. I got a grant and went to Rada, and my parents were supportive.
I met Liam Neeson at Dublin airport when we were teenagers who’d both been selected to do a theatre experience in Holland. We were the only two northerners, and we bonded because we’d just seen Midnight Cowboy and were knocked out by it. We became very close friends and still are.
I’m a very day-to-day person. I don’t think of my career in terms of a progression. I do projects that excite me. If you want to be a Hollywood star, you have to have that ambition as part of your DNA. I just don’t have it. That’s why I bounce from place to place.
I met my wife [actor Hélène Patarot] in 1987 when we were both in Peter Brook’s The Mahabharata. She is French-Vietnamese, we live in Paris and London. I’d be dead without the Eurostar!
We are two individuals in a union, but our work always takes us to different places. Now our daughter, Aoife, is an actor and is moving around. The moments when we all come together are very precious.
Being nominated for an Oscar for Belfast was thrilling. I’m not very good at the glamorous side of the industry, but it was a great honour, especially because the nomination was for playing Kenneth Branagh’s grandfather, who he cared for greatly.
I’ve worked with Scorsese and Spielberg and they were fantastic experiences. I’m there thinking, how the hell did I end up here? I’ll think I’m not quite worthy, but I’ll knuckle down and get on with it.
I’ve made a decision to work less. Every time I’m booked on to a job, I have to convince myself that I have the ability to do it – I don’t have an innate confidence, and as I get older, the doubts multiply. Your brain’s not working as fast as it used to, nor your ability to learn new things. I don’t want to say yes and then not be fit for it. You have to be honest with yourself.
The second series of The Dry is on ITVX from Thursday 14 March
