Philip Seymour Hoffman: Further tales of Hoffman

Whether he is stealing scenes from Jude Law, or transferring an off-Broadway hit to the West End, Philip Seymour Hoffman can't help but compel attention. It's no wonder. As he tells Brian Viner, he learnt his craft from the best

It took some doing, in the 1999 film The Talented Mr Ripley, to steal the show from Matt Damon and Jude Law. Both were excellent. Yet, as the acid-tongued Ivy Leaguer Freddie, who saw right through the sociopathic social-climber Ripley (Damon), Philip Seymour Hoffman did just that. He has a compelling presence on screen (see his misfit neighbour in Happiness), which more than once has distracted the eye from more famous actors in bigger parts. One can see him becoming a household name, if only that name weren't such a mouthful.

The other obstacle between 34-year-old Hoffman and screen stardom is his devotion to theatre, both as actor and director. It is in the latter guise that he is in London, directing Stephen Adly Guirgis's Jesus Hopped the A Train.

The play, set in the Rikers Island prison in New York, has two convicted killers discussing God and the meaning of life. "It's big, big stuff," says Hoffman, who has an engagingly childlike way with words. Success off Broadway propelled the play to London last year, where it played to appreciative audiences (and divided critics) at the Donmar Warehouse.

Now it's at the Arts Theatre and it is there, in the foyer, that we meet. "Hi, Phil Hoffman," he says, by way of unnecessary introduction. His voice, perhaps helped along by his cigarette habit, is a glorious basso-profundo. He is burly, bespectacled, unshaven, with a high forehead, above which a great deal of strawberry blond hair is behaving none too co-operatively.

I ask him what he sees as the main differences, theatre-wise, between New York, where he lives, and London. "In terms of audiences, not much," he says. "Although this play is set in New York, British audiences seem to be very open to it. And we are getting young audiences here, which is great. They are not afraid to react to the play as they're watching it.

"I guess what is different is that in New York right now, off-off-Broadway is thriving. No-money theatre is thriving. I haven't found that here. You have the big West End houses, then two or three commercial off-Broadway-type houses, or places like the Donmar, institutions with seasons to fulfil. There aren't many of the 299-seat houses. In New York there are a bunch."

Jesus Hopped the A Train was produced by New York's LAByrinth Theatre Company, founded 10 years ago to offer work to struggling Latino actors (LAB stands for Latino Actors Base). It has since evolved into a multicultural collective, in which Hoffman – brought up in middle-class Rochester, New York, one of four children of a father who worked for Xerox and a mother who is now a judge – is co-artistic director.

Does he take lucrative movie roles to underwrite his theatrical ambitions, as does our Steven Berkoff? He ponders. "I'm a single guy, living in a one-bedroom apartment, so my overheads aren't huge. I haven't moved on to owning that car, buying that house. I make enough to give some money to the group each year, but I try not to make too many decisions based on money. Whatever I do, there has to be a universal issue involved, even if it is the issue of romance. Apart from which, a big movie takes four months out of your life."

His next big movie is Red Dragon, a prequel to Silence of the Lambs. "I play a tabloid journalist, who is kind of ruthless about getting the story. Ralph Fiennes plays the main killer, and there is a scene where he kind of tortures me, but in a very distinct way. Then... he does this one thing." I lean forward in appalled anticipation, but he won't tell. "I have hopes it might be pretty good. There are some wonderful people in it – Anthony Hopkins, Edward Norton, Fiennes, Emily Watson..."

Hoffman is a sucker for wonderful people. I often ask actors which performers they most admire, but most answer unenthusiastically, with a predictable Dame Judi here, Sir Ian there. Not Hoffman. "The people I admire more than anyone are those who have been around a long time. I've worked with Paul Newman, Jason Robards, Chris Walken, Meryl Streep, De Niro, and my admiration button was, like, going crazy. It's something about the way they carry themselves, the humility of them."

Has he learnt from them? "Oh, yeah. With Newman I was in a film called Nobody's Fool, and you learn from his respect for acting, for how difficult it is. With De Niro, I did a film, Flawless, and there was one time I was playing a very hard part, which took a bunch of takes. I said to him, 'Did you ever feel you didn't do it right?' He said, 'If you feel something is wrong and you can change it, change it. If you can't, move on.' Basic, but great advice.

"I think with those guys I'm admiring a time that existed, that they still carry with them. There's something I fall in love with, and it's a time when I wasn't around, American film in the early 1970s, theatre in the 1950s. In the Fifties and Sixties there were some great American playwrights coming up, and those guys originated some of their greatest roles. Especially Robards. He did Long Day's Journey into Night for, like, two years. Nobody does that now. And that turns me on.

"Have you read A Life, by Elia Kazan? He's a tricky fellow because of what happened to him [he was a friendly witness before the House Un-American Activities Committee], but his stories of the Thirties and Forties, it's hard to read that and not be, like, wow. No wonder [Senator Joseph] McCarthy felt so threatened, with those plays being used as propaganda for certain kinds of political movements. And you cannot help but be thrilled by that, living in the age we do now. It is such a cynical world now. Then, it seems, there was a little bit more of an open heart. Now, you can't be a righteous person without being laughed at."

Hoffman's bleak view doubtless owes a good deal to 11 September. I ask whether that day changed him, artistically? "I hope so. I live nearby, and I was there. I remember saying out loud to myself, 'If that's happening, everything's over. It's all over.' It was something you couldn't dream of in America. We [Americans] learnt something that day that a lot of people on the planet already knew. But for a few days I thought, 'What's the point?' I was in auditions, and thought, 'What am I doing that's going to help?' It was shattering. It screwed me up good. Saying that, I feel that whatever you think up is going to be no weirder than what's actually happening. People say, 'Why do your characters seem to be a bit odd, a bit weird?' I bristle and say, 'Everybody is weird and odd. Whatever image you have of a normal human being, doesn't exist.'

"But yeah, I hope it does change me as an artist. Already my heart hurts a little more when I read about terrible things that happen in the world. I have a little more affinity, a little more empathy. That has to be a good thing."

'Jesus Hopped the A Train' is at the Arts Theatre, London WC1 to 22 June (020-7836 3334)