WHILE the nation enjoyed the TV dramatization of theatre classic An Inspector Calls a few weeks back, Liam Brennan was doing his best to avoid it.

Now, you’d assume an actor who’s starring in the touring production of JB Priestley’s play would want to check out the TV opposition, perhaps even gleam a few tips.

Not Liam Brennan. The Kilmarnock-born actor couldn’t bring himself to sit back and enjoy David Thewlis’s performance.

“I watched bits of it,” he says, grinning. “But I was in rehearsals for the show at the time and learning the script.

“And with the TV version being a bit different I didn’t want to confuse my brain.

“So when the Inspector came on I began to channel hop. But from what I did see it looked to be a good job. And I liked the use of flashbacks, which you can’t really do in theatre.”

An Inspector Calls is one of the classics of British theatre.

Set in 1912 in the drawing room of the Birling family, the cosy dinner celebrating Arthur Birling’s daughter to the son of Sir George Croft is interrupted when police Inspector Goole arrives.

Goole then proceeds to blow this self-contained, pompous, elitist world apart when he asks each of the dinner guests questions which implicate them in the death of a young woman.

How can this man know so much? How does he manage to stir the consciences of people you’d imagine were beyond self-examination?

The production now touring is director Stephen Daldry’s award-winner, which stormed the west end in the nineties.

And it demands a real performance by the lead actor; he has to be beguiling, mysterious and charismatic.

Thankfully, Liam Brennan has the talent, and the experience, to carry it off.

His career has involved four consecutive years with Shakespeare’s Globe in London and he has starred on Broadway.

The award-winning actor has also achieved critical acclaim for his performances in the likes of stage classic Of Mice and Men, which ran in Perth.

But he never set out to become an actor.

In fact he was once headed for the priesthood.

“I did go off to the priesthood but I lost my faith,” he explains.

“And I don’t know how the acting thing came about. I didn’t attend youth theatre or do drama in school or anything like that.”

Liam, having left the church, applied for drama school but was rejected.

“My back up plan was to study Scottish History, which I loved, at Edinburgh.

“But I was very green at the time. I thought if you apply for drama school and you don’t get in you give up and do something else.

“However, when I was at uni I heard of people applying to drama school three and four times before getting in. So I had another go.”

Liam was successful second time around and graduated in 1987.

“I’ve worked solidly,” he says with a thankful note in his voice. “It’s mostly been in theatre, so I haven’t earned fortunes.”

He adds; “I think I prefer theatre. In TV and film the money’s nice but touring with Shakespeare is wonderful.”

Did he have a leaning for Shakespeare and the classics?

“I didn’t go looking for it, it just sort of happens, but I must have been in Macbeth about seven or eight times.

“Yet, it’s never boring. Every production is a bit different.

“And the writing is great. Shakespeare’s characters are always flawed, and human.”

But was the experience as good as his panto adventures with Pinocchio in Perth five years ago.

“Yes,” he says laughing.

“When I was in the priesthood the monastery was in Perth, and it was really nice to go back to there.”

Liam worked with theatre giant Mark Rylance at the Globe. Rylance says he only comes alive when the curtain goes up. Does the Scot have the same feeling about theatre?

“No, I tend to be terrified in the wings,” he says with a mock shudder.

“I get told I hide it extremely well though. And I think even Mr Rylance gets nervous as well.”

Liam adds; “You have to remember that leaping about in front of hundreds of people saying odd words and wearing funny clothes is quite an odd thing to do.

“Part of you is always aware of that. And that’s why it’s a bit scary.”

At least he doesn’t have to wear a moustache every night as the Inspector.

“This is a more modern take on the play,” he offers.

What? Do we discover the Inspector to be suffering from OCD, or is he transgender or . . .

“I’m talking more about the tone, the energy,” he says, laughing.

Liam is enjoying touring, taking in the likes of Dublin.

“But it’s a pretty harsh schedule, doing three matinees a week, then on the Sunday or the Monday you are travelling to the next town,” he says, in the hope perhaps of eliciting a little sympathy.

Did he never think of returning to the priest hood, and working one day a week?

“Not really,” he says laughing. “And the show runs till May next year, which means for once I’m not worried about the next job coming along.”

• An Inspector Calls, The Theatre Royal, November 3-7