I’m so fascinated by it, because everyone’s so goddamn pretty and happy and no one ages. “The porter in my hotel that picked up my bags, that girl was wearing fucking Gucci. He was 75 and he looked like fucking George Clooney,” he says. One minute he’ll be asking if it’s OK if he smokes, the next he’s marvelling on the eternal youth of the French. Ask him a question and his answers tend towards the digressive: long, profane monologues that change subject mid-sentence.
But he doesn’t seem to share his characters’ predisposition for keeping their thoughts to themselves.
Tall, lantern-jawed and wearing a permanently pensive expression, you can understand how, he used to make a living turning up as a guest star in rugged procedural dramas like NYPD Blue and Walker, Texas Ranger, as well as a recurring role in biker drama Sons of Anarchy. All of which makes meeting Sheridan in person a disarming experience.
