Kiefer Sutherland: The second coming

As the latest series of 24 reaches its climax, Kiefer Sutherland tells Sarah Shannon how he went from Brat Pack star to Hollywood outsider to television's most timely secret agent

Jack Bauer is walking towards me. Television's toughest counter-terrorist agent wears a conservatively checked shirt, jeans and a dazzling, white-toothed grin. I don't know whether to smile back or hide under the table.

All right, so it's not really Jack Bauer, the super-sleuth of the television thriller 24, the scourge of international terrorists and profiteering oil magnates, the stubbled hunk who tries to save the world in 24 hours without a single bathroom break. But what fun to pretend. Instead, the man ever-so-politely proffering his hand is Kiefer Sutherland, the 36-year-old Hollywood actor who created heroic Jack and reinvented his own career in one faultless manoeuvre. He went from Brat Pack deadbeat to the darling of the industry almost overnight - the stuff of Hollywood dreams.

He apologises profusely for the delay in our meeting. The previous day, waiting journalists were told that Kiefer had just finished a "difficult scene" and felt too drained to see us. There were mutinous mutterings about bloody luvvies and suggestions of a boycott. Today, his charm offensive would win over the most hardened hack's stony heart. He drove himself to our meeting in a glossy Los Angeles hotel, with only his dog for company. No entourage of PR heavies. "He parked out front by himself," says a breathless Fox representative, proving just how unusual this perfectly normal behaviour seems in La-La Land.

He explains yesterday's absence with an apologetic grin. "It was a really difficult sequence compounded by the fact that I was naked. I think it's the first time I've ever had to do something like that." That voice comes straight from central casting under the label "deep and silky smooth". It's his father's voice, capable of playing the romantic lead or the creepy psychopath with equal conviction. The looks, too, come straight from Donald Sutherland's side - the strangely curling mouth and the pale-blue eyes.

On screen, the young Sutherland can seem an odd choice for leading man, with those pixie ears and a face that manages to be both long and slightly chubby around the cheeks at the same time. In the flesh, however, he is much more handsome, his face tanned and perfectly in proportion, his hair tousled and blond. The perfect Californian male. He wants to talk about 24, the Fox TV drama that unfolds in real time, telling the events of a single dramatic day in 24 episodes. It earned itself genuine hit status in the US, sold internationally and won its lead actor a Golden Globe. Next Sunday sees the dramatic climax of the show's second series on BBC 2 in the UK.

With its dizzying twists and turns, a penchant for killing off major cast members, and the ever-present ticking clock, 24 just about teeters on the brink of plausibility. Of course, anyone can look up the ending of the second series on American internet sites. But if I discuss what I know with friends, they run out of the room, their hands clamped over their ears. The programme inspires an extraordinary devotion in its fans.

"When you are watching the show and there are 15 minutes left, then 10 minutes, then five, it creates a level of anxiety for the viewer that, for some reason, is pleasurable," says Kiefer. Violence, he happily acknowledges, also ratchets up the tension. "I do think that [violence] adds to the desperation of the moment. It creates a visceral reaction from an audience that I think is very important for the show."

At its outset, 24 appeared to be tapping into American xenophobia. It centred on a nuclear threat linked to an ordinary Arab American with apparent terrorist connections. But as the action unfolded, we found that the real baddie was an oil-rich white businessman provoking a war to increase the price of his black gold. "I was personally satisfied with what the show examines from a political perspective," Sutherland says with a grin. He will say no more for fear of ruining the ending, but he clearly delights in 24's ability to flip prejudice on its head.

Sutherland is, after all, the grandson of Canada's first Socialist leader, Tommy Douglas. His mother, the stage actress and political firebrand Shirley Douglas, instilled in him her progressive values. "She brought me up with the perspective that wealthy people in our society should take their fair share of the bill for health care, that society has a responsibility to itself to make sure that the weaker and less fortunate get taken care of."

The drama's characters please him from a social perspective as well. "I think if you show on television that a black president exists [24's president is played by the black actor Dennis Haysbert], then people will just accept that that's a possibility. And that is a huge step forward.

"I'm tired of hearing people make a joke that if Jesse Jackson were to throw his hat in the ring it would only be to slight another candidate. I would much rather see it happen be because an African-American deserves the right to run for president, and most importantly, is pulled from one of the largest voting pools in this country."

Who knows? It might just happen. Sutherland's recent projects display an astonishing synchronicity with real-life events. Shortly after the filming of a 24 scene that showed a terrorist blowing up an aeroplane, September 11 took place. The terrorist scene stayed in, though a shot of the exploding plane was removed. Later, he played a sniper terrorising an ordinary man in the thriller Phone Booth. Then a very real Washington sniper began his deadly games, and the movie's release had to be delayed.

Kiefer William Frederick Dempsey George Rufus Sutherland grew up with his mother and twin sister, Rachel, in Toronto. His father had left Shirley Douglas when Kiefer was four years old to pursue an affair with Jane Fonda. Despite that he still admired his father. "I'd go to a baseball game with my dad, and it was amazing to see the kind of attention he got. It kind of embarrassed you, but you also thought it was really cool." He recalls doing homework backstage while his mother performed at the theatre, and describes the extended family of her fellow Canadian actors as a "wonderful village".

Inspired by this colourful childhood, Kiefer decided to enter the family profession, winning his first major role at the tender age of 17 in a film called The Bay Boy. He soon established himself as one of the Hollywood Brat Pack, working on films such as Young Guns, A Few Good Men and Flatliners. On the latter he met the actress Julia Roberts and they became engaged, but she jilted him shortly before their wedding and fled to Ireland with his best friend, Jason Patric.

His life spiralled downwards, with rumours of bar fights and drinking bouts. Later his film career fell into the doldrums, with a string of instantly forgettable movies. So he made the radical decision to take time out and became a cowboy on the rodeo circuit. After a few years and several trophies (he won the United States Team Roping Championships twice), the allure of Hollywood drew him back to acting.

"I was really lucky there with the first few jobs I had in the United States. And then, you know, somewhere around 25 someone hit me with a frying pan, and I realised that I was doing things that I wasn't very satisfied with. I needed to take a break." Was the rodeo harder than acting? "I've broken every finger doing the rodeos,"he laughs in response.

Back in Los Angeles, he found himself making yet more mediocre films. Then one auspicious day a friend, Steven Hopkins, offered him a part in a TV pilot called 24. It was a no-lose situation. If the studios dismissed the pilot, Sutherland would walk away with a pay cheque, but no one would have seen the dud show. "We all thought that we were going to get paid to do an hour-long show that would never be seen by anybody. We were shocked when the show got such a wonderful reaction. It's a second shot for me, work-wise."

The maturity and candour of everything that Sutherland says is impressive. Would these qualities be so strong if he hadn't had to cope with years of being out of favour with Tinseltown? I doubt it. His experiences have made him philosophical, not least about his own profession. "When the work is there, do it. And don't complain for a second about it, because I can't articulate clearly enough how fortunate I am to do this for a living."

With 24 his working life bounced back in glorious fashion. But although his career goes from strength to strength, Sutherland's personal life remains complicated. He has two ex-wives - a little-known actress called Camelia Kath, and a former model, Kelly Winn. With Kath he has a daughter, Sarah Jude (named after his friend Sarah Jessica Parker). Like his television character Jack Bauer, Sutherland is very easily wrapped around his daughter's little finger. "I've been very lucky. I have an incredibly responsible 15-year-old. In many ways she raised me."

Shortly after we meet, gossip columns start to connect Sutherland romantically with his 24 co-star, Reiko Aylesworth (Jack Bauer's fellow counter-terrorism unit agent, Michelle Dessler). Would he consider marriage again? He shakes his head immediately. "What's the thing you try to teach a child about an oven?" He puts his hand on the table and draws it back quickly in mock pain. "Ouch! Marriage is just not something I'm very good at."

While we wait to see the end of 24, the third series is preparing to go into production in the US. Jack Bauer will return relatively unscathed, two and a half years on from this climactic 24 hours. Although the plot is strictly under wraps at the moment, one can only imagine that another catastrophic event is about to unfold in the Los Angeles area. No doubt Jack, or should I say Kiefer, will handle it with aplomb.

The second series of '24' is available on DVD and VHS from Monday from 20th Century Fox Home Entertainment