Daniel Day-Lewis is brewing up in the homely basement kitchen of his country house in rural Ireland. 'Actors,' he muses as he pours the boiling water on to the tea bag in the mug, 'should never give interviews. Once you know what colour socks they wear, you'll remember it next time you see them performing, and it will get in the way. It is not in anyone's interest.'
As the preamble to an interview it is not promising, but Day-Lewis has been in the film business for more than 20 years since he first made headlines as the gay hoodlum in My Beautiful Laundrette in 1985, and so knows that, as part of what he labels 'the fatuous science of marketing', talking about himself goes with the territory.