Jamie: luvvies, scandal and stage

Last year, my friend Emily and I invented a game called Fantasy Art. Inspired by the fact that some distinctly non-thesp types such as Frank Skinner and Jack Dee were making appearances in the play, Art, as were some amusingly left-field actors (Patrick Duffy, Stacy Keach, Nigel Havers), we selected the most unlikely trios of cast members you could imagine: how about Ainsley Harriott, Trevor Eve and Blue Peter's Simon Groom? Or Fred Dibnah, Tony Hart and David Soul? The bizarre thing is that at one point we actually mentioned Jamie Theakston's name, but rejected the idea as being too far-fetched. After all, what the heck would the squeaky-clean darling of the Duffer set, boyfriend of divine Joely Richardson, golden balls at the BBC, want to be doing on a West End stage every night, risking ridicule and a reduced social life?

Well, that was then and this is now. Joely has gone and Jamie, bless him, is clearly still in a rather fraught state of post-scandal trauma after a tabloid exposed his grisly night out in the company of some kinky, whip-owning Mayfair brass earlier this year. We have been instructed that all conversation concerning the details of the sordid evening must be avoided. As we speak, Theakston's lawyers claim they are still handling the case as "live".

Poor Jamie has had a rotten time with the tabloids recently. They hounded him during his relationship with Joely Richardson, invented a less than flattering measurement of his manhood (remember The Sun's Tiddlergate saga?) and then the naughty Mayfair romp. His usually confident, charmingly assertive voice trembles noticeably when the uncomfortable subject of his private life is broached. He says he's been overwhelmed by the public's positive, encouraging reaction and he remains archly amused by the cabbies who lean out of their taxi windows and shout, "Go on Jamie, my son!" And, yes, he does get a bit of a playful ribbing from the leery hard hats when he walks past a building site.

And the suits at the BBC? "There was honestly never any suggestion that what happened would have any bearing on my situation at work," he insists. "But I think most people have forgotten all about the whole thing, to be honest," he says, optimistically. "Actually, with everything that has happened to me over the past few months, I was very grateful to be given the opportunity to pretend to be someone else for 12 weeks," he sighs, skilfully steering the conversation back to the business of the play.

This is not Theako's first time treading the boards. When he was 15 he joined the National Youth Theatre. "Becoming an actor was always my dream, much to the disappointment of my family," he says. Talk about history repeating itself. Theakston's term at the NYT culminated in him starring in a production of The Death and Persecution of Marat as directed in the style of, wait for it, the Marquis de Sade. "It was a nice, light little number for 15-year-olds," he says, arching an eyebrow. So why did he swap treading the boards for a career in telly, radio and charity cricket matches? "I got to the age when all my friends were going off to acting school and I just wasn't convinced that I was going to be any good at it." So Jamie swapped drama school for business studies, a stint as an auctioneer and a job as trainee sports radio presenter. This led him to landing his first TV job, all the while keeping his acting bug a secret. "I imagined that my acting dreams were over," he says. "But I always rued the fact that I'd let it go."

Little did he know that his de Sade play had been directed by one Matthew Warchus, who was clearly impressed. Years later, Warchus went on to direct Tom Courtenay and Albert Finney in the first incarnation of Art, when it opened back in October 1996, and as the play became a West End institution he frequently suggested that the production could benefit from the likeable former Live and Kicking presenter's name in lights. Serendipitously, a couple of years ago an interviewer trawled up the subject of Theakston's acting aspirations and asked him if he would ever consider going back to it, and if so, what sort of thing would he like to do? "I would love to do Art," he replied. And with that, ba-da-bing! Jamie Theakston, 21st century Renaissance man, added another string to his bow.

He will appear in previews from this Monday alongside RSC actor Chris Luscombe and Stephen McGann.

You can see why the producers think Jamie, 32, will "work" on stage. He has a commanding speaking voice, which seems to project well, and he enunciates every word with an arid, Larry Olivier clarity. He is dishy, charming, bright and funny. And at a rangy six foot five, he has a strong presence, albeit in an endearingly bashful kind of way. Did he ever get the chance to debate technique and projection with his luvvie love, Joely, currently appearing in Lady Windermere's Fan in the West End, before they split up last summer? "No," he scoffs. "We didn't talk about it too much because, well, she is a proper, experienced actress and I am ..." He trails off.

Jamie will, however, admit to some serious "Method"-style preparation for his new life as an actor. He's started dropping the word "wonderful" into his sentences a lot, and he's acquired a new wardrobe. "I've bought a cravat and a cigarette holder," he says, earnestly sucking on a Silk Cut. "I think that will help a lot, don't you?"

ART