Robbie Coltrane: Blues for Coltrane?

The Harry Potter films are making Robbie Coltrane a star in the US. But, as he tells James Rampton, he's discovering that fame is not without drawbacks. And now the tabloids have him in their sights

Robbie Coltrane's career is on a roll. Thanks to such global hits as The World is Not Enough, Golden Eye, the television series Cracker and, of course, the Harry Potter movies, the 52-year-old Scot is riding high in LA right now. According to the actor, "most of the senior execs in Hollywood know who I am. I have a lot of respect there. It's not like I'm the fat guy from Scotland." In fact, his major problem appears to be dealing with the fallout from fame. Coltrane has to carry a pen wherever he goes as he never knows when he might bump into an autograph hunter. The Scottish actor can no longer walk the streets unhindered like you or me. This is the part of the "celebrity tax" he has to pay.

The actor can't paint the town as red as he used to. "I still have the occasional night out," declares Coltrane. "I reserve the right to behave abominably on occasion. "But one of the worst things about being recognisable is that I do have to behave myself better than most people. It's a news story if I venture out on a pub crawl. I'd really love to, actually. But I can't do it. And that's very frustrating."

It's the same story if Coltrane goes out during the day. He regrets that "you can't go to an exhibition of modern art when eight people are standing behind you whisper- ing. And if you do turn around, you have to engage in a useless, 10-minute conversation. It's weird to have people coming up to you when they think they know you and they don't. They're just so unembarrassed about being intrusive.

"I know why Madonna asks them to close Harrods for an half an hour so she can shop in peace," he laughs. "Now people will say, 'Who the hell does he think he is?"'

Coltrane continues his lament. "Fame is not a tap you can just turn off. There's no choice involved. Of course, that doesn't outweigh all the benefits – you just have to deal with it – but it does get you down. One of the great illusions is that we have some control of our lives. Do you know that great Jewish line? How do you make God laugh? Tell him your plans."

Holding court in an upscale central London hotel, Coltrane clearly relishes pyrotechnical displays of language. Fuelled by a diet of cappuccino and Marlboros, his conversation fizzes like a Catherine wheel, sending out sparks of wit and wisdom in every direction.

Dressed in a natty three-piece suit, he takes pleasure in eschewing the unpredictable: "I was quite pleased when Dolly the Sheep died," he grins, and has a fascinating, mobile face which bursts into life when he launches into an anecdote. As he zips in and out of a dizzying array of different voices, Coltrane treats me to a One-Man Command Performance.

He is passionate about topics as diverse as Dr Johnson and engineering. "I'm fascinated by machinery," Coltrane asserts at one point. "Haven't we all sat on an aeroplane for seven hours and wondered how the engine works? I get fed-up with all these documentaries about the history of high heels. I'm on a mission to remind people how important machinery is. I could make a 40-episode series on the subject."

Coltrane is equally compelling on screen. He may not have the looks of a classic matinée idol, but for all that he possesses a genuine charisma – a sex appeal even – that illuminates his performances.

The actor brings that same presence to the role, which gave him his worldwide profile, Hagrid, the immense groundsman at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The actor acknowledges that playing the part "has changed my life – 10-year-olds come up to me now. Before they weren't allowed to watch my stuff, so that's been quite weird."

Coltrane is shooting Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, the third instalment of JK Rowling's impossibly popular cycle. He observes that the success of the movies "hasn't done me any harm at all in Hollywood. Guys in suits approach me on the street in LA and say, 'Congratulations on the film.' I reply: 'Oh, did you enjoy it?' 'Yeah, it made $96m on the first day.'"

However, Coltrane admits that he is concerned about the T-word: typecasting. "There is the worry that I get stuck as Hagrid," he reflects. "I hope that playing Hagrid doesn't mean I'll never play a pimp. [adopts Hollywood tycoon voice] 'We can't have Hagrid being a murderer!'"

The news had yet to break that Coltrane separated from his wife, amicably, we are told. However, on the day we meet, the actor seems in a relaxed mood. He is, for example, distinctly unruffled by the idea of ageing. "I never think of myself as fifty- something," he admits. "I think 'No, that's someone else. That's one of those guys in grey suits you see on a plane. That's not me.'"

Growing older has not damaged his career, either. "The great thing about this job," he enthuses, "is that you don't have to go through the classic mid-life crisis. This year Jack Nicholson got an Oscar nomination for being an ill-natured old bastard. How many jobs do you know where you get rewarded for being an ill-natured old bastard?"

In the past, some journalists have found the actor intimidating – one called him "scary" – but he is a pussycat rather than a sabre-toothed tiger with me. What is not in doubt is that Coltrane is dauntingly brainy. He doesn't give the impression that he would take kindly to questions about, say, his star sign.

And if something gets his goat, he is not slow in telling you about it. For example, he is evidently not a fan of the celebrity circus, unleashing a characteristic, bravura rant on the subject: "If somebody said 'I'll throw you into a room with 10 of the best actors in the world, six interesting producers and the best acrobat in Yugoslavia...', that would be OK. But it's not that.

"Instead, you're thrown into a room with 300 people, one of whom once did a chocolate ad, another who presented a kids' programme on Southern Television and yet another who murdered his mother. You think, 'What are we supposed to have in common?' You stand there with a drink, and photographers take lots of pictures of you, which they then flog to people who imagine you're having a wonderful life."

But Coltrane does not need to dwell on the downside of celebrity; he is evidently pretty happy with his career. To underline the point, he claims that unlike many stars of his magnitude, he has never had a serious problem with the tabloids.

"I don't have any complaints," Coltrane states. "The papers aren't particularly interested in actors like me or Jim Broadbent – and I have to say I'm very glad about that. I sometimes think that they pay big stars $22m a year just for the invasion of privacy.

"I'm not interesting enough because I'm not cute. Hello! magazine is full of gorgeous 19 year olds. Why would they want a picture of an old man like me?," he asks, before adding with a mischievous grin: "I don't own a dress held together with safety pins – that could be where I've been going wrong."