You’ve campaigned on social issues for years. What sparked your political interest?
Adolescent indignation. I’ve never grown out of it. Also travel, and having questioning parents. My father was the chairman of the local Liberals and took me canvassing.
As a Liberal Democrat supporter, do you feel let down by the decision to form a coalition?
I approached the Lib Dems as an activist. So I didn’t exactly feel like throwing confetti when I saw Nick Clegg on the lawn with Cameron.
Who is your political hero, and why?
I’m always encouraged by people who get more radical as they get older, like Mark Twain and Howard Zinn. Also David Henry Thoreau: I love his undertaking to “live deliberately”.
You recently set up Brightwide, a website that showcases political cinema. Why?
When my wife and I screened our documentary, In Prison My Whole Life, at film festivals, the response was extraordinary. NGOs often rely on slogans and posters (and celebrity campaigners), which, in my experience, have less impact. Brightwide lets stories speak for themselves. It’s supported by Amnesty International, Oxfam and the World Wide Fund for Nature.
What sparked your interest in refugees?
My mother campaigned for the rights of refugees, some of whom were guests in our house. You can’t dismiss people as a political problem once you know them.
What influence can films have on the way we think about these issues?
“Issues” always have personal stories behind them. Film provides intimacy with those stories, and a chance to weigh things up without being badgered by attitude.
Can film have a social and political impact?
Yes. The banning of films throughout history, and the rage they can ignite in the press, shows that. That’s why we’re screening a thematic film festival during Refugee Week.
Which films have that kind of impact for you?
The Grapes of Wrath, The Battle of Algiers. Most of all, Come and See, a Soviet-endorsed film by Elem Klimov.
What do you most object to about how we respond to refugees in the UK?
I set up Brightwide so I wouldn’t have to subject people to my own views. But if I were to say something, I’d mention the demonisation of refugees by the right-wing press. Labour and the Tories have let the tabloids frame their immigration policies. I’d also remind the new government that it has pledged to stop child detention, which needs to happen quickly. But thankfully I don’t have to say any of that.
What do you think about the proposed cap on immigration?
It’s a pity for us. Countless studies find economic benefit in immigration. The humanitarian argument holds the balance.
Is our political/media culture a healthy one?
I wish the establishment was more courageous about the reactionary press. But I spend enough time in Italy to be thankful for what we have.
You have played a wide range of screen roles. What draws you to a particular part?
I love the quotation from Miles Davis, “Don’t play what you know – play what you don’t know.” Easier said than done. Typecasting always beckons.
Do you feel like you’re still trying to shed the legacy of Mr Darcy?
People increasingly ask me about Mr Darcy as if he’s dandruff. My memory isn’t good enough to have any real feelings on the matter. I imagine people with dandruff are also blissfully unaware of what they’re carrying around.
If you hadn’t been an actor, what would you have done, or be doing?
I’d be a squeegee merchant on the Euston Road.
Will you always be an actor, or will you try something else?
I’ve tried writing. I’m still trying – I’ve published one short story in 50 years. That gives you an idea of my pace.
Do the arts get enough support in the UK?
If you ask me, you’ll only get special pleading. Gordon Brown pledged £45m to the BFI last year, which was significant. But there needs to be more to enable them to function fully.
Where is home?
What would you like to forget?
A poor memory is a very good anaesthetic.
Is there a plan?
Not really. I’m sure you can tell.
Are we all doomed?
Oh, I think so – but we ought to drag it out as long as possible.