British playwright on his humiliating ‘soft-porn’ role and Hong Kong’s colonial overhang

Born in Bognor I was born in 1964 in Bognor Regis, a small seaside town in southern England. Eighteen years I spent there, and then ran away as fast as I possibly could. My parents were English teachers. My Dad is a profound Shakespeare scholar – I’m sure the (performing) infection comes from my folks. I’m the youngest of three boys and then there’s a much younger sister.

I knew as a child that I wanted to become an actor; a new teacher came to the Bognor Regis Comprehensive School when I was about 12 and blew my mind. She was Scottish, she was rude, she swore, she smoked a lot, she was brilliant. I later studied drama at Bristol University, where I met my wife, who was a year above me.

Freedom in public parts At the end of my second year, we formed our own company and started creating our own work – it was called Public Parts Theatre Company. They were quite politically engaged shows; we made one about striking sweet-factory workers in Bristol in the 19th century, and a show about women who disguised themselves as men and went to fight in the British navy in the 18th century.

We were very free. Then, at 29, I went to the Royal Central School of Speech and Drama in London for a year. Then I was a professional actor for seven years. I didn’t enjoy it very much. I hadn’t realised how privileged my 20s had been in terms of creating my own work.

A leather thong and a captain’s hat Acting is really hard. You sit around for long periods waiting for your agent or somebody to give you some engagement in the world. It’s usually work you’re not that interested in but you can’t say no, and the fear of not working again is invasive, pervasive and toxic.