The initial plan was to interview Brendan Gleeson in central Dublin. A chat over lunch in a local pub or restaurant, then a few photos of him in his element. His agents politely point out this is not ideal. Why not? “Because he’s Brendan Gleeson!” He can no more walk around the centre of Dublin incognito and uninterrupted than could Bono, or the pope.
So our rendezvous is relocated to a seafood restaurant at the end of a fishing pier in a village outside Dublin. But even here, within seconds of Gleeson posing for photographs outside, a passerby comes up to say hi. Moments later, a woman shouts: “Oi, Brendan!” from her car across the street and comes over for a selfie and a chat about local broadband provision. Gleeson is obliging, but his agents weren’t kidding.
