Alan Cumming: 'I'm getting quite butch in my old age'

Alan Cumming, 37, was born in Scotland and trained as an actor in Glasgow. After working with the RSC and playing Hamlet at the Donmar Warehouse, he starred in films including Emma and Titus. His performance as the Emcee in Sam Mendes's Cabaret won him a Tony Award. Since his divorce in 1993, he has dated men and women and has just split up with his boyfriend of six years. Cumming has recently published Tommy's Tale, a racy novel about a party boy, which he advised his parents not to read.

How do you start your day?

I'm not too good in the mornings. I need a nice cup of Tetley tea. Here in New York you can get imported Tetley tea-bags round the corner.

I bet they're like gold dust.

I tell ye. They're like crack.

And a cigarette?

I've stopped now. Well, I actually smoked for a week last week, but I try not to. Oh my God, you know what just happened – it's all banned. You can't smoke in a restaurant or a club at all. That's weird. But you can't ban it in a club. That's not right at all. It's that bloody Mayor Bloomberg.

How did you come to write a novel?

I started writing it only for me, working on it in my trailer in my spare time while filming. But then I talked about it in a magazine, and an agent approached me. That shows you – once it's down in black and white, you have to do it. In total it took me five years to write.

And 15 to research?

A lifetime! It's about a time in my life I wanted to write about in a non-judgemental way. And about men wanting to have children, which isn't written about much.

How did you find the publishing industry?

I think I'm quite lucky that I'm famous because unlike a first-time novelist I got to be quite strong about my book. I could be like, "No, I want this on the cover." Those people are so cut-throat. People are lovely to you, lovely to you, and then, snap – they're evil. And I thought fashion was bad.

Was it lonely writing it?

Mmm yeah, because I would shut myself off for weeks at a time. But now I've started to really like that. I have a place in the country, in upstate New York. I go with my dog, and literally don't see anyone. Our builder, Bob, actually came down just to check if I was all right, because he could see that my car hadn't moved for a few days and he was worried about me. And I was like, "I'm fine! I'm here because... I vant to be alone!"

What were you doing? Gardening?

Yeah, I do a bit of tree chopping. I'm getting quite butch in my old age. And all the gardeners I know are really, really sorted out, and I really envy that.

And your dad was a forester.

Well he's not sorted out, so he's the exception to the rule. But I think the countryside is in my blood because I'm finding out that I actually know what to do with trees and saplings and stuff. Obviously I learnt how to do it when I was a little boy, and, you know, suppressed it.

You've called yourself 'pansexual' – but do you ever feel pressure to decide which team you're on?

I don't feel it, but I think there is a pressure to be black or white when most people I think are quite grey. If you're forced to make a decision it cuts you off from a whole legion of experience. And then there's that thing of, "I am this now, so therefore I wear this, I like this ...". When you've been through so much to become gay, why do you need to go back to being a stereotype and go into a gay ghetto?

And have all your cultural tastes defined for you ...

Exactly. Gay culture is so mainstream now. I went to this party last night and I just thought, my God, all these gay men are so tasteless! What happened?! There were no girls there at all. How boring!

No Bette Davis?

Ah, she's always there in spirit. The only girls that were there last night were the scary ones that are more butch than the men. I saw a woman I thought was a man in drag – I was a little drunk. She came over and said hello, and I thought oh, trannies love me. And then I realised she was a woman. Thank God I didn't say how's the world of drag or anything.

Are you always dropping bricks like John Gielgud?

Oh, I love his bricks. My agent in London was telling me how Gielgud went over to someone in a restaurant and said, "I thought you were that terrible actor. Oh, you are." I do things like that. I forget who people are a lot. There's one boy called Carluccio who is actually a good friend of mine, but I can never remember him. I always think he's a mad fan and like glance over him and try to get away. And then I realise it's Carluccio. Before I go out I say to myself, "Carluccio might be there. Remember him, he's black, he's beautiful, you know who he is."

Do you have a ritual before you go on stage?

For Cabaret, you had to feel sexxxy. You had to psych yourself up to believe that everyone in the audience was going to want ye. So I would look in the mirror and be like, "Phwoar, you're skinny, and wasted, and gorgeous." It was a scary, scary thing to do sexy acting on stage and mean it. You couldn't have an off night. I also like to have a little quiet moment to myself. When I played the Pope on rollerskates, in Elle by Jean Genet, I had to try and have my moment squatting backstage in a big huge Vivien Westwood frock with no back, getting a draught up my bum. That was about balance, literally. Not just emotional.

What's your apartment like in NY?

I've always had yellow walls since I was an adult. I'm obsessed with yellow. I did one of those things where they put scarves on your head and tell you about your personality, and they said that it was a colour that depressives like. And I thought, screw you, I like yellow. Oh yes! I got asked to go on Through The Keyhole. My assistant said, "Maybe you'll wait until you move into your new apartment", and I said, "Maybe I'll wait till I die! No way am I going on that!" I can't imagine why anyone would let a film crew into their apartment. Let alone Lloyd Grossman. It's not going to happen. By the way, Hermione, I'm wearing underpants only. Does that excite you? In a purely literary sense.

'Tommy's Tale' is published by Penguin, £9.99