NEED an actor to play character who can play the voice of reason, who can hold his world together?

Need an actor with a life experience as colourful as the robes his Archdeacon character wears - and who understands the questioning of faith?

Then that man has to be Laurie Ventry.

This week, Laurie stars in an adaptation of Chekhov’s The Letter, alongside John Kazek and Billy Riddoch.

Laurie stars as Archdeacon Orlov, a man desperate to keep his priest’s in line.

The Archdeacon, a very tough hard liner, has had word that his next-in-line Father Anastasy (Billy) is to get the bump because of "various misdemeanours."

Laurie can certainly call upon moments in his own life to bring to the role.

“I was brought up as a Catholic, and our area in Cowcaddens was ruled by a priest from Cork who used to punch boys on the head if they missed mass," he says with a wry smile.

“He was a brute. And although Orlov isn’t quite like that, he’s close.

“The priests when I grew up viewed themselves as the moral authority.”

Laurie gave up on the church around the age of fourteen. But he wasn’t consumed with the idea of a life in the world of entertainment, with all it’s rampant hedonism, fun and nonsense.

Good at maths at school, he began working life in the less frivolous world of accountancy.

That didn’t work out however and he took off to London to “drop out” and do a range of jobs.

But the novelty of London wore off and back home he landed a job as a race course commentator, working, astonishingly, from a telegraph company office in Glasgow.

“I got the job because family were all bookies,” he reveals. “My grandfather was the biggest bookie in Glasgow in the thirties and forties, so I had this advantage.

“I loved racing. I’d studied form since I was six years old and could work out odds. And this job was great for me."

But how could he commentate on races he couldn't see?

“We had a feed coming through from the race courses, a skeleton information service and it had a ten second delay.

"During this time I would listen hard and then translate into racing-style commentary.”

He adds; "It was a high pressure performance, and to make a mistake was to be sacked."

His commentary work lasted four years. In the back of his mind, Laurie had the acting dream. He’d always loved the movies and so he applied to the Royal Scottish Academy.

“Much to my surprise. I got in,"” he says grinning with incredulity of the 1977 period, when he was 24.

And has he loved the acting life ever since?

“I like the work,” he says in cautious voice. “It’s great when you get a classic piece such as The Letter to do but I’ve done many turkeys in my day. That can be murder.”

In one play The Memorandum, by Czech politician Vaclav Havel “an alleged comedy by someone who should have stayed in politics," Laurie was beheaded every night.

But that wasn't the worst of it. "I had to speak an artificial language, Pytydep," he recalls.

“My wife at the time asked how I managed to learn this gibberish. I told her I did it because I had to.”

He adds, “But there have been great acting moments."

Laurie has made his mark on a huge range of theatre (he worked with Borderline Theatre Company) television and film productions over the years, (he played Father Mulvaney in River City).

“I once did a great adaptation of The Cone Gatherers, which called for us to go up 30 foot telegraph trees. It was fantastic.”

And he starred as a head teacher in Peter Mullan’s Neds.

“The problem was my character was a chain smoker," he recalls, smiling. "He had been in the war, and everyone smoked at the time. And I’d never smoked in my life. I had to do it, because I loved the film and the role, but smoking was horrible. And each time it made me sick.”

Laurie is also a writer. Why not write the story of his bookie grandfather, “the real Laurie Ventry.”

“Yes, Glasgow at the time was like New York and my grandfather paid off the cops, gave the church money, was a keep-fit fanatic. And amazing man. And his story could be like Once Upon A Time In America.”

Meantime, Laurie is focused on keeping his priests in line, playing the Archdeacon.

"This play is set in 1895, but the problems remain today," he says.

"And because it's Chekhov, it's not all about drama and deep human understanding. There are a lot of laughs in Chekhov."

As there are in Laurie Ventry.

*The Letter, Oran Mor, until Saturday.