Quotes of the Day

At sam neill's boutique winery outside Queenstown, New Zealand, his beloved pinot noir grapes are handpicked, gently pressed and aged in barrels for 10 months. The resulting wine's flavor "is always just beyond your grasp," Neill once said. "If you do manage to get hold of it, it's only for a fleeting moment." What's true of the wine is true of the actor. In the 25 years since My Brilliant Career launched him and co-star Judy Davis onto the world stage, Neill has suggested many things to movie-goers: from smooth leading man (Reilly: Ace of Spies) to robust action hero (Jurassic Park) to bittersweet villain (The Piano). So how is his 2005 vintage looking? "We got frost in spring and in autumn," he reports, "so whether or not it'll be brilliant, we don't know. But it will certainly be scarce."

He's compensating on screen with roles to tease the palate. To pick but three, he will reprise his wizardry in the just-wrapped sequel to the Merlin miniseries, be stalked as the husband of Susan Sarandon in the Melbourne-shot Irresistible, and speak in iambic pentameter (and play air guitar) as a disillusioned English politician in Yes. The piquant mix is typically Sam Neill. But as the closeted gay Sydney crime lord in the new Australian film Little Fish, his finish is almost unrecognizable. There's nothing remotely respectable about Bradley "The Jockey" Thompson, a character so crooked he seems straight. As the former lover of Hugo Weaving's ex-AFL footballer junky (in turn the confidant of a strung-out video-store proprietress played by Cate Blanchett) he's the toxic puppeteer of Rowan Woods' eye-opening Cabramatta-set crime thriller. Woods, the edgy social realist director of The Boys (1998), saw it as a challenge to reinvent the star. "He's nearly always the distinguished gent," says Woods, "as opposed to this, where he's - how can I describe it?"

You can tell a lot about a man from his boots, so let's start there: the Jockey wears tan dress shoes. The shirt is open-necked, the hand bejeweled, and the hair styled perhaps by radio star John Laws' barber. But it is the soft voice, as if medicated, that insinuates most. Even the early-'90s Jaguar his nouveau-riche "businessman" drives was chosen by Neill, who used legal contacts to get in touch with underworld figures for research. But it is the character behind the façade that Neill articulates best. In one of the film's most poignant scenes, the Jockey, who is estranged from his wife and secretly gay, thanks his henchman for his "trust and discretion." Here it is as if Neill is conspiring directly with the audience. "Every sleaze is also a human being," says the actor. "I look for the humanity and maybe even a humorous dimension to the people I play."

A dry wit accompanies Neill in a round of press interviews before Little Fish's Sept. 8 Australian release. Elegantly attired in tailored jacket, crisp shirt and jeans, the actor enters the hotel foyer wearing what look like two spare tires on his feet - "they're my clown shoes," he says. In fact, they're his farm boots, which bear the U.S. brand name of Providence. An apt choice, since Neill is the most accidental of actors. It was while directing documentaries for the New Zealand National Film Unit that he was asked by director Gillian Armstrong to audition for My Brilliant Career (perhaps she saw something of landed gent Harry Beecham in Neill, whose family founded one of the New Zealand's largest liquor importers). And it was while filming a TV costume drama in Melbourne a few years later that he was phoned by actor James Mason and flown to London to be groomed as a star. "I was never from an early age convinced that I had a destiny," says Neill, 57. "No, it was just a bunch of happy accidents."

That sense of ease dignifies even his most forgettable roles. There's also something gracious in his reserve - and it's perhaps no accident that his best work has been with feminist directors like Jane Campion, where he has allowed the leading lady to shine. As Judy Davis told Time a few years back, "he's lovely to work with, very easy-tempered, rather an urbane chap." Blokes like him too. "He's a fantastic transformer," says director Woods. "But when he comes out of the moment and you talk to him, what's unusual is he has all of these other radars going. It's as if he's able to sit outside himself and look at what he does from a directing point of view."

Last year Neill directed his first feature for Australian TV, but he's also skilled at directing public attention to causes he's passionate about. Since moving to Central Otago in 1987, he's successfully campaigned against rapid development around scenic Queenstown. Just the other week, he bobbed up at Helen Clark's election launch, introducing the Prime Minister with an attack on the war in Iraq. And don't get him started on GE foods. Otherwise, the accidental actor and activist is content to play vintner. "The best review I ever got for my pinot noir was when they called it sex in a glass," says Neill. "That'll do for me." Cinema-goers can expect a lively vintage.

• Michael Fitzgerald
• He's chased dinosaurs and was rumored to be the next James Bond. Now Sam Neill shows why he is one step ahead of the rest.