10 things not a lot of people know about Michael Caine

Kingsman: The Secret Service star Michael Caine reveals 10 things you probably didn’t know about him.

Hero

When I was growing my father was my hero. He was a soldier and went away to war when I was six. We never had comic books during the war, they needed the paper, so I didn’t know any superheroes growing up but my father was one in my eyes. He was the greatest.

Obsession

My earliest obsession was cinema. There was no TV then but from the age of three we used to have what was called the threepenny rush on a Saturday morning, it was three pence to get in and it was only kids.

I was taken by two older boys and the Lone Ranger came on and that’s what I wanted to be from then on. I wanted to be a movie actor. Actually, it wasn’t exactly like that.

The film came on and everything went black someone had thrown an overcoat over the balcony and it landed over my head!

Then there was a punch-up and then I put my feet on the row in front and pushed and the row of seats I was sitting in went over backwards because the boys had taken the screws out of the floor.

So that was my first experience, rather frazzled, and it has remained like that ever since.

Acting

I started in the theatre, where I worked for the first nine years of my career. It was in there that I learnt to enunciate.

The first day you go in the producer says: “The people in the back have paid to hear you. Project it!” It’s not a case of shouting, but bringing the volume up gradually.

When I started doing movies, sound men liked me, because they could hear me.

I’ve been on movies where I couldn’t hear what the other actor was saying. So you end up looking at the guy and waiting for his lips to stop. If he’s pausing, you start to speak and his lips move again it’s very awkward.

My wife is always telling me to keep my voice down in restaurants, though, because I do have a voice like a foghorn.

Working

I worked on Harold Pinter’s first play, The Room. He was great but he was an absolute stickler about his work.

I had a scene where a blind man comes into the room and my character takes his stick and beats him to death with it. I said to him: “Why do I do that, Harold?” And he said, “How the hell do I know? Do it. Get on with it.” So I did it.

I worked with him again 50 years later on the remake of Sleuth and he was the same. You couldn’t change any words.

Driving

The first car I bought was a Rolls-Royce. I couldn’t drive and thought I’d learn on the Rolls but the insurance company said no. The premium was so high it was cheaper to hire a chauffeur, so I did.

I moved to Los Angeles in 1979 and you have to be able to drive there so I took my test in an automatic.

Before I took it, the man in the office was very formal and told me the guy who would be doing the test was outside in the car, I was only to speak to him to say good morning, there would be no conversation, and I was to follow his instructions.

I got in the car and the guy said, “I loved you in The Man Who Would Be King. You’re going to have to be rubbish to not pass this test.”

So, at 50, I passed, but I was never any good and when I turned 70 I gave it up.

A normal life

I don’t mix with a lot of actors. That’s not because I don’t like them but because I live in Surrey and there are not a lot of them down there. Leatherhead is very sparsely populated with movie stars, I assure you.

Stardom

I don’t see myself as a movie star, I don’t see myself as anything really. I just wander around getting on with my life. I have this image in the papers, which I like.

I think that’s me, and my wife says: “That’s not you at all.” I say: “I’m an icon. It says so in the paper.” She says: “OK. Take the rubbish out!” It’s like that, my life. It’s quite ordinary.

The future

I’m 81 so I can afford to be positive about the future. I’m in the fortunate, luxurious position of only working when I really want because I don’t like getting up early and learning all that stuff.

I have to become obsessed about what is offered to me. I don’t go to work to make money. You don’t make any money when you’re my age the stars get it all. That’s a lie, actually!

Batman

You spend your life making pictures thinking: “Is it going to be a hit? Isn’t it going to be a hit?” Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn’t.

In the latter years of my career I’ve made six films with Christopher Nolan and every one has been a hit. It’s extraordinary, working with him nothing is what it seems.

The first time he came to me with a script, he came to my house in the country, and said: “I’ve got a movie.” I said: “What is it?” And he said: “Batman.”

I thought to myself: “Well, I’m too old to play Batman. What does he want me to play?” He said: “I want you to play the butler.”

I wondered, what will the dialogue be like? What will I say? “Dinner is served? Would you like a beverage?” He said: “No, Michael. Read the script.”

So I read it, and he wasn’t the butler. He was the foster father for Batman. So now, whenever he asks whether I want to do a movie, I say “yes.” When he says: “Do you want to read the script?” I say, “No.”

Being remembered

I’d like my epitaph to read: “See you later, no hurry.” I’d dearly love to think there was somebody up there and I’ve got backup.

My father was a Catholic, my mother was a protestant, I was educated by Jews and I’m married to a Muslim, so I won’t lose out on a technicality!

His latest, Kingsman: The Secret Service, opens at cinemas on Friday. The film also stars Colin Firth, Samuel L. Jackson and Mark Hamill and is based on a graphic novel co-written by Dave Gibbons and Coatbridge man, Mark Millar.