WHITE Christmas? No chance! The residents of Shieldinch can expect a red Christmas.

And we’re not talking the colour of Santa’s suit.

Yes, River City’s resident gangster Lenny Murdoch is all set to unleash seasonal psychopathy, not only on his own family but on innocents.

And it’s no surprise locals want him more dead than the fat turkey on the table. It all makes for great viewing.

But the fact Murdoch is so successful a thug is very much down to the actor who plays him. And there are two reasons why Frank Gallagher is so successful; the first is he analyses the character to within an inch of his Shieldinch life and doesn’t play him like he’s Lucifer.

“Some (River City) writers don’t quite get him, and some think he’s a two dimensional baddie,” says the 54 year-old, “but my job is to make him three dimensional.

“That’s why I want to explore his head. For example, Lenny has lost two sons. He has murdered his ex-wife. Does he sleep at night? I think he doesn’t get nightmares, because he can justify everything he has done, apart from Lydia. But just maybe he doesn’t sleep too well.”

Frank would love to drop in a back story to his character; who was the first person Lenny murdered? How did he get involved in crime?

Yet, perhaps there’s another reason why Frank’s screen badboy is so convincing.

The actor can readily explore the human condition because he has achieved a considerable amount of life experience himself.

He lost his dad when he was just two and his mother struggled to bring up five kids in their Coatbridge home.

And because of so much time in hospital (asthma, chest-related illnesses) young Francis grew up detached from the family unit.

He hardly attended more than two years of secondary school (in spite of being very bright and revealing a great imagination). Instead, concentrated his time on becoming a practising bad boy and a practising alcoholic.

So here’s the question, Frank; has your earlier sense of hurt and loss and troubled life transfereed onto your screen character, Lenny Murdoch?

“That’s the sort of thing you would talk to a therapist about,” says Frank grinning.

“I’m not conscious of it, but at the same time you know it’s there. And as an actor, you can feed off it. When I try to find an emotion I try and relate it to myself.

“And when I look back at some of the stuff I did (in film) when I was younger, there he was.”

He adds; “But I certainly believe in this character for the fourteen weeks I play him at a time. When I become Lenny I don’t want to turn him off.”

Young Frank Gallagher was most likely headed for jail, continually in court, being referred for a series of small crimes.

The actor recalls the conversation that changed his life.

“My probation officer, David Ramsay, who was also a social worker, was exasperated with me. He said to me ‘What do you want to do with your life?’ But I had no idea. Physically I wasn’t very big so labouring was out.

“Both my brothers were painters and decorators but I was allergic to paint and it would have played with my asthma.”

He grins; “It was only when I left home, and the dog, I realised where the allergy came from.”

Yet, something stirred in the teenage Frank. He deliberated.

“I was always an avid reader. I had an insatiable appetite for biographies of actors. And I loved the movies. And I loved to sing. I’d sing Jailhouse Rock on the streets. But acting seemed easier than singing.”

So had been supressing his performance gene? “Yes, I was an attention-seeking wee b******,” he says, grinning.

“And at this stage it was desperado stakes. So I said to Ramsay ‘I’ve always fancied being an actor or a singer.’ And within a couple of weeks I had an audition at the Citz.”

The transformation from delinquent to thespian wasn’t entirely smooth.

Social Work paid for the teenage Frank to be picked up and taken to the drama classes two nights a week. “Just to make sure I went.”

One Friday he decided not to go. “I went to my mate’s house and drank Buckie. But Ramsay persuaded me to go one more time. And I did. Half cut. And the drink gave me the confidence to perform.

“The trick then was to go sober, which I managed.”

Others saw potential in the wild Gallagher. A schoolteacher, Daphne Kirkpatrick who was part of the drama group, paid for his audition for RSAMD.

“It was an incredible show of faith,” he says, the note of heartfelt thanks clear in his voice.

Frank loved drama college, he loved learning. And when he left he landed several Angry Young Man roles, and he excelled.

But he also showed he could play far more than the bitter, revengeful Glaswegian.He has appeared in plays by Shaw, Shakespeare, Chekhov.

And now his River City character has given him a chance to explore. The angularity of Lenny should ensure he survives for some time.

Or will he? Even Scarlett has reason to wish him horizontal. And not in a good way.

“He’s capable of passion. He loves kids. He is devoted to daughter Amber and the fact he still wears a wedding ring suggests he hasn’t given up on the ghost that is Lydia.

“But he’s killed people. He’s wondering who will kill him.”

Frank adds, laughing; “I think it’s fair to say Lenny has trust issues.”

The actor is just back from a break in Toronto and New York. A nice escape from Shieldinch. But he loves Lenny all the same.

“If I hadn’t been such an ar****** as a kid I wouldn’t have gotten into trouble,” he says, smiling.

“But if I hadn’t gotten into trouble I wouldn’t be in the position I’m in right now.”

With such a gift for playing bad boys, and a real bent for comedy, why isn’t he playing Abanazer somewhere?

“I’d rather be a Jacob Marley,” he says of pantoland. “I’m too old for running about. I’d be happier as a gentle doorknocker.”

*River City, Tuesday, 8pm, BBC 1 Scotland.