A role to die for

I don't advocate killing critics as a rule,' says Jim Broadbent dryly. 'But you can understand where the impulse comes from.' The actor Jim Broadbent harbouring resentful feelings? Surely not. He looks as benign and ordinary as a greengrocer.

In fact, Broadbent is talking about his new role, Edward Lionheart, the tragicomic star of the 1973 Hammer horror film Theatre Of Blood - now adapted for the stage by Improbable theatre. Lionheart is a grand Shakespearean actor of the big voice and bold gesture school of performance, whose talent is sadly not recognised by the London critics.

Furious and hurt, he starts bumping them off in a succession of bloody tableaux lifted from Shakespeare's own plots - an idea likely to strike a sympathetic chord with many a real-life actor. The execution is pure Grand Guignol but there is pathos there, too. Perhaps Lionheart's tragedy is to care too much.

'I actually find Lionheart rather moving,' says Broadbent. 'I have a lot of affection for old-style acting.'

Broadbent may now be a member of Hollywood royalty thanks to the Oscar he picked up for Iris but his roots lie in pure theatre. His early career was steeped in the loose, surreal comedy of Ken Campbell, with whom he worked on the 12-hour epic Illuminatus in 1977 and the semi-improvised shenanigans of The National Theatre of Brent, with whom Broadbent travelled around England during the 1980s.

Both prepared him for the fly-bytheseat-of-your-pants approach of Improbable, the madcap impro company best known for the gruesome Shockheaded Peter.

'I've always believed there's no place for naturalism on stage,' says Broadbent. 'TV and film can do that so much better. You should always acknowledge you are in a theatre.'

Improbable agrees. Under the triumvirate directorship of Lee Simpson, Julian Crouch and Phelim McDermott, the company has always viewed the theatre as a playground of endless possibility. They rarely depend upon plot or a script, preferring to make it up as they go along.

Steeped in Shakespearean dialogue and boasting some sophisticated technology, Theatre Of Blood is more structured than many of Improbable's previous shows but the rehearsal process is still anchored in the ethos of improvisation.

Broadbent loves it. He has, of course, worked extensively on celluloid with Mike Leigh, who also favours working without a script. 'I've always welcomed the odd and the unusual,' he says. 'If you approach something from an exciting angle, you tend to end up in a different place.'