Dear John

- Andrew Pulver

John Cusack has the Irish-American good looks that make intelligent women go soft in the head. And with a string of new releases to his name, it looks like the rest of the world's finally noticing.

Cameron Crowe knows exactly why John Cusack is so damn popular. ‘I think he brings strength and nobility to the part of the love-struck romantic,’ says the Jerry Maguire director, who worked with Cusack on the classic teen romance Say Anything… and has been a friend and admirer ever since. ‘You often see it done so wimpily, but Cusack gives you the pain and the anger and the frustration. And the love.’

John Cusack was born 31 years ago in Evanston, Illinois, and began acting in a Chicago theatre workshop run by family friend Byrne Piven. He’d frequently accompany older sisters Joan and Ann to their classes, and although just a toddler, by all accounts he liked it there. ‘When I first met John Cusack, he was mewling and screaming in his mother’s arms,’ Piven once recalled. ‘But even then he was a player.’

At eight he was acting in Chekov; by 12 he was a gifted improviser; and at 16 he had starred in his first feature film, Class. At the time, Cusack was the only teen-movie actor who could honestly claim to be well-versed in the works of radical media theorist Noam Chomsky (all thanks to one of Joan’s beatnik boyfriends). Since then, he has somehow managed to remain one of Hollywood’s most covert stars, appearing in zillion-dollar blockbusters like Con Air while spouting maxims such as ‘Celebrity is death… That’s the worst thing that can happen to an actor.’

Last year, Cusack put pen to paper and wrote himself a peach of a part: the ennui-laden hit man of Grosse Pointe Blank. In its wake came a flood of acting work, which - in keeping with Cusack’s maverick-man persona - remains idiosyncratic, to say the least. He bounced from Con Air to a lead voice role in the forthcoming cartoon Anastasia; he’s submitted to the ministrations of hermit-like director Terrence Malick on the World War II saga The Thin Red Line, all the while developing his adaptation of Nick Hornby’s High Fidelity.

You’ll see him next in Clint Eastwood’s rich slice of Southern Gothic, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, alongside Kevin Spacey. He’s since been spotted stepping out with his Midnight co-star, Alison Eastwood - and, yes, her dad does approve.

Right now, Cusack is on the phone from Dublin, where he’s putting his Irish-American charms to work in indie romance This is my Father. It’s not a big-money job, but this is John Cusack - he can afford to be picky.

Q. What attracts you to working with big-name directors? As well as Eastwood and Malick, you’ve been directed by Woody Allen, Stephen Frears, John Sayles…

A. You know, I grew up watching Redford and Newman, and Pacino and Duvall, and when I became an actor I wanted to make great films. How you do that is you don’t follow the money: you work with the best people possible. I wanted a career that lasted 50 years, so I had to make sure. I was never in it for the quick kill. I’m not saying other movies are bad, it’s just I can’t get excited unless there’s a script with merit there.

Q. But then you did Con Air, which nobody could ever accuse of having intellectual aspirations.

A. I’d turned down a lot of action movies, but I thought, ‘What the hell, I’ll do one. I’ve been doing this acting thing for 10 years - I’d better get a $100-milion movie under my belt.’ The script had an interesting gallows humour to it, so why not? I also thought it would do me good with the studios. It was a good popcorn movie, and it definitely helped my career politically.

Q. How do you feel about the fact that pretty much all your growing up has been done on the cinema screen? You became a fully fledged film star when you were 18.

A. To be honest, I never think about it that way. I just played a teenager when I was a teenager, and in my twenties I played people in their twenties. When you look at those films, you can definitely see things that I was trying to express. If the actor does a good job, part of the real person is in there, too.

Q. Was it a post-adolescent phase that drew you to Grosse Pointe Blank? It was pretty nostalgic about teen innocence.

A. That’s true; there’s something delicious about going back to high school. I actually went to a school reunion while I was writing the script. It was a really bizarre experience: I was more nervous going into that place than doing the movie. On the one hand, there were all those former sports jocks there who, 10 years down the line, were well into their addictions. Then there were all these women who were being really vicious to each other - career girls versus family women.

Q. Are you happy with the direction your career is taking?

A. I’ve made five or six movies that I’m really proud of. That happened, I suppose, was that when I got to my twenties I wanted to explore the darker sides of myself. I didn’t just want to do comedies. But what you mustn’t lose sight of is that the role is only a possible you: you try to bring parts of yourself into it, but it’s not the whole story.