After nearly four decades in the business, journeyman actor Derek Jacobi has traveled a long road from his breakout role as the young, speech-impaired emperor of "I, Claudius" to revered elder statesman of the stage and screen. And yet, he remains the quintessential hungry player, seeking out new challenges and tackling each role with the spirited enthusiasm that has become his trademark.

D.Q.: In your new film, "Love is the Devil", you portray British painter Francis Bacon. How did you become involved with this project?

Derek Jacobi: I became involved with it sort of at the last minute really. Writer/director John Maybury had conceived the idea quite a while ago and had traveled a long distance down the road with another actor, Malcolm McDowell. Apparently, at the last minute, Malcolm decided he didn't want to do it. A meeting was arranged and John and I got on immediately. He explained it all to me and gave me the script, which I read and thought wonderful---very literate, very poetic, very clever,...not your usual kind of film script. Being a painter himself, he really had steeped himself in the subject of Bacon and so I felt confident that he would help me through it. I didn't know much about Bacon at that point, and I started making it my business to find out. There were two biographies; there was a great deal of video and television film of him, which I devoured and watched constantly.

D.Q.: So you never actually met Francis Bacon?

Jacobi: No, I didn't. He had a very wide acquaintance but no, I didn't. I was living in London all the time, all throughout the 60's and 70's, but I never met him.

D.Q.: What most intrigued you about playing him?

Jacobi: I think probably because he is so far removed from my own center of gravity. It's chalk and cheese really, he and I. I think perhaps if we had met, I'm not sure whether we'd have got on at all. He was a great bon viveur, he was very convivial, he liked his drink, he burned his candle at both ends and in the middle---none of which I tend to do. And he had this great cruel streak, and was physically masochistic and emotionally sadistic. It was quite a challenge, not to mention great fun, pretending to be that sort of person.

D.Q.: How was your experience working with John Maybury, who's known for his unusual style?

Jacobi: It was a total delight. As I say, we got on right from the beginning. He knew that he wanted the film to really look like a Bacon painting, to be redolent of Bacon's work. Because we weren't going to be allowed to show any of the real paintings, he wanted the whole thing to look like a Bacon painting---its color, its light and shade, the spatial quality of it, the choreography of each frame. And he succeeded remarkably well in doing that.

D.Q.: That's very ambitious.

Jacobi: Very ambitious, very ambitious. And I know, speaking for myself, sitting there for what seemed like hours while they set up a shot photographing me through a doorknob or through a light bulb, it got a bit tedious, I have to admit! But ultimately it helped the interpretation because he photographed us all from strange, grotesque angles and that also helped me to look like Bacon, who had an odd face. I can't say that any of the lighting and the shots of me are KIND. But they helped me get inside Francis.

D.Q.: I understand that your portrayal is remarkable, and the reaction to you was almost as if Bacon had come back to life. How was that for you?

Jacobi: That was a bit spooky. John peopled the background with friends and cronies of the real Francis Bacon. The first day I had to walk onto the set as Francis, dressed up as Francis, made up as Francis...and meet all these people who had known the real man. That was a bit scary, but it was also wonderful because they accepted me, supported me, encouraged me and helped me. One lady, in fact, rushed at me and threw her arms around me and burst into tears saying, "Francis, Francis," which did my confidence an inordinate amount of good......The makeup was--how shall I say? Francis was not the MOST handsome man and the speed with which they made me look like him was a bit, um, upsetting. A few deft strokes and there I was---all dreams of being the second Robert Redford out of the window!

D.Q.: You've portrayed many historical characters. Which do you enjoy playing most, fictional or historical ones?

Jacobi: I prefer playing characters that are rooted in fiction, really, because in a sense the imagination has a little more freedom. When you're playing real people, you have to live up to people's expectations, to fit a certain stereotype, whereas anybody can play Hamlet. It's even been played by women. It's just a question of imagination and how far you can take your world of 'let's pretend' and, in that sense, you're freer.

D.Q.: You seem to have moved so easily between stage, screen and television. But do you prefer one more than the others?

Jacobi: Theatre, I think, most of all. But at the moment I'm chasing film more than I've ever done. It's the one of the three that I've done the least of and, in a sense, know the least about. I feel that in the theatre I can cope, I'm in charge. In television it's sort of the same. In film I'm still, how would you put it, in fourth grade or something; I'm not quite matriculated yet.

D.Q.: Are there any particular directors or actors you'd like to work with in film?

Jacobi: No particular ones. I have the usual actor's instincts and fears of never working again, and I'm constantly aware that I'm in a profession that is 80% permanently unemployed. So, I think my ambitions really are no higher than to keep working as much and as long as I can, and in as high quality work as I can. One of the good things about this profession is that you don't need to retire. As long as you are physically, mentally and vocally able, you can go on 'til you drop---which is what I intend to do.

D.Q.: Any other hidden talent? Are you a writer or painter?

Jacobi: No, absolutely not! Dull as dishwater. No creative talent at all. I read other people's books, I look at other people's paintings, I listen to other people's music. And how I envy performers and creative artists who can do more than one, and I know some who can do all four. But no, I can only do one.

D.Q.: With such a long and illustrious career as you've had, how have you managed to keep yourself removed from the Hollywood scene?

Jacobi: Oh, quite easily---I've never been asked. The only time I've really done it was with Ken [Branagh] and Emma Thompson, in a film called "Dead Again" which was a lovely experience. But, no, so far the moguls haven't been slathering around demanding my presence in their movies. Maybe in the future they might. I live in hope! I shall keep myself fit and ready for the call.