Irons in the fire

Housekeeper Nini is fussing round her master, a retired general called Henrik. "I'm a little anxious," she says, "chef hasn't served crayfish for more than ten years." The year is 1940, and Henrik has retired to a large, gloomy Hungarian castle. As yet, there is only one sign that Europe is being torn apart by war: the electricity supply keeps failing.

Little entertaining has been done at the castle since Henrik's wife died, eight years previously. But tonight his friend Konrad is coming to dinner. The two men haven't met for more than 40 years, hence the special menu.

A joyous reunion, then? Not exactly.

"I'm going to get the truth out of him," the brooding, decidedly uptight Henrik tells his housekeeper. Konrad duly arrives, and there are polite greetings. But the atmosphere quickly becomes awkward and stiff: "The enormous secret between us keeps us two old men alive," remarks Konrad, with a pinprick of humour.

Thus begins Christopher Hampton's play Embers. The play, which is based on a novel by Sndor Mrai, is a concentrated, riveting study of friendship and betrayal, and it provides a tour de force role for Oxfordshire resident Jeremy Irons, who is appearing on the West End stage for the first time in 17 years.

Having been put through an emotional wringer by simply watching the play, I am fully expecting Irons to be still in character as the uptight Henrik when I go backstage to meet him, only a few minutes after the performance has finished.

But I am wrong. The relaxed atmosphere in Jeremy Irons's dressing room is established by two exceedingly affectionate, woolly dogs, who are in attendance.

"I'm not supposed to have them in here, but what the heck." Irons has risen from the depths of a comfortable armchair, and then relaxes back into it, tucking his long legs beneath him. There is no sign at all of the intense character I have just been watching on stage.

As the play unfolded, I began to wonder whether the sort of close, but totally non-sexual, friendship that was once commonplace between two men had now totally vanished.

"I think it's very rare," Irons comments. "Strangely, wartime brings it out, because men go through terrible times together. My parents' generation had those friendships, and I think they can come about from schooldays even now.

"I have one friend who I see maybe once every ten years, but there is a bond there. And the same is true, perhaps more so, with my drama school friends: we were opening up risking and trying new things together.

d=3,2,2'But a lot of people don't ever have that sort of situation, they've never needed a mucker, a guy who'll stand by you, and get you out of trouble. It's interesting that in Shakespeare's time male platonic friendship was the strongest and most admired relationship that existed.

"On the other hand, I think women's friendships are very different equally strong, but women can be tempestuous in their loyalty to each other. I see that with my wife."

Embers certainly provides Jeremy Irons with a role that he can get his teeth into, but why this particular play at this particular time?

"I've felt the need to do some theatre for the last three or four years. I've been asked to take on some classical roles, but a new play like this is attractive because it involves risk, you don't know whether it will fly or not. It's a real adventure, and I like that. My nature is that of a test pilot, not a commercial airline pilot.

"Also, we're a very small group, just three actors, three stage management, and one person looking after the costumes. We're a little family, and I love that aspect of theatre, rather like gypsies sitting round a camp fire.

"In contrast, earlier this year I played King Arthur in Camelot for one performance in front of 18,000 people at the Hollywood Bowl. We rehearsed for three weeks, and played for one night. It would take you six months playing to full houses to reach that number in the West End!

"Film work pays the bills, but it wasn't getting my juices flowing. In my thirties and forties, I played some thumping great roles, which really drove the films, and I was totally involved in the whole process. But for the last two or three years I've been doing smaller roles, and I did some films that I'm not that proud of. I got very tired of all the travelling involved too."

At this point, Jeremy Irons's mobile starts trilling. The call is from one of his sons.

"I don't know if you were given tea in the interval, but he comes in here and earns a couple of bob a night as a sort of tea host. He's at drama school."

Ah ha, another acting Irons in the making? Did his father try to put him off?

"Of course. Sam, my eldest son, is now a photographer, but he also went through drama school. He appeared with me as my son, Mamillius, in The Winter's Tale at Stratford. But, in the end, he wanted to carve his own line, which I quite understand. It's very tough if you have successful parents in the same profession. Jeremy Irons's wife is the actress Sinead Cusack.

d=3,2,2'Younger son Max, on the other hand, has no such worries. He loves the whole thing, and I think he's going to be an excellent actor. But the business is much harder than when I started, there isn't the work about."

"I began by busking in the West End with my guitar. I'd become very interested in theatrical biographies, and I used to collect theatrical prints when I was at school. I had no particular intention of becoming an actor, I just found the lives of actors going back through the ages very interesting the insecurity of it, how they had to cope, and what society thought of them.

"There were three options for me: the circus, working on a funfair, or the theatre. The theatre was a bit more middle class. So I answered an ad, and got a job in Canterbury as a student assistant stage manager."

The Ironses have two homes, one in Ireland, the other in Watlington.

"We've been there for about 15 years. My mother, who lived in Nettlebed, found the house. Watlington used to be a place I'd just driven through, I'd never taken it seriously. But it's a wonderful place."

So Hollywood has never beckoned as a place to live?

"There was a time when both Sinead and I were appearing on Broadway, and we thought we'd probably earn much more money if we lived in America. But there was some instinct I had against it, I'd already uprooted Sinead from Ireland. The thing about America is that if you're not working, you're a sort of non-person. When I'm not working I love to be riding, sailing, or walking just living in fact. Oxfordshire still has a real sense of being in the countryside."

Embers continues at the Duke of York's Theatre, St Martin's Lane, London. Box office is 0870 060 6623.