Allan Laing talks to a Scot who is a casting director's dream and always seems to be busy with parts in

television and film productions

IF YOU were the casting director for BBC Scotland's forthcoming adaptation of Ian Banks's novel of familial relationships, The Crow Road, there is only one actor you would wish to sign up for the pivotal role of Ken McHoan.

The character is a teacher in his early 50s, a man who finds a merciful release from the pressures of modern life in the writing of children's novels. He is a quiet and inherently decent human being, a liberal whose Leftish credentials were forged in the 1960s.

Cue Bill Paterson. ``Yes, he is a man very much of my time,'' declares the actor. ``He's exactly my age and probably exactly my height. This is not the type of role where I have to wear a false moustache, to be honest.''

And it is not for the first time that Paterson has been cued. Last year he received a copy of a script for Alan Plater's drama series, Oliver's Travels, in which the playwright included the handwritten message in the margin: ``With all due respect to other Equity members, this is the Bill Paterson part.'' The actor was flattered enough to take the role.

The Crow Road, which also stars Joe McFadden, Valerie Edmond, Stella Gonet, Paul Young, Peter Capaldi, and Alex Norton, is a rites (and wrongs) of passage story. A young boy's journey through the first 20 or so years of his life; his relationship with his family, his friends, and his lovers.

Paterson plays the young lad's father and it is nice, he says, to be able to play a ``very human piece'' for a change. McHoan is on that cusp of life where, as a parent, he is just in touch and still involved with his growing son.

``The curious thing is that, in this case, the son moves towards God, towards something that will explain the world to him. But the father believes that there is no explanation; that there is no reason for what happens to you,'' he explains.

Paterson is talking in a break during location filming for the four-part series at a remote (and somewhat dilapidated) country house some 15 miles south of the Argyllshire village of Tarbert. The backdrop of Loch Fyne is devastatingly beautiful - and it is a view with which the Scots actor is all too familiar.

``The story is actually as much to do with the landscape as the characters. It catches the geography of the area very well. I've got very strong family connections around here and at Cowal. My brother lives not far away and my father travelled all over the Western Isles when he had a plumbing business. I went with him often as a wee boy,'' he says.

The television drama, he explains, is a very faithful adaptation of the book. Nothing has been added and little removed. Though possessed of dark and Gothic elements, it is essentially a novel of love and affection; a dryly humorous tale.

``It is very accurate from my experience in the way it looks at relationships between brothers and sisters and children growing up and togetherness.

``I have an 11-year-old son and it is interesting to see how much you attempt to mould people's lives - and whether you should in the first place. And how much you make a frame for their own lives,'' he adds.

You tend to forget that 51-year-old Paterson, a deeply thoughtful and intelligent man, is probably the most successful Scottish actor of his generation - but it is a steady rather than a spectacular success which he has achieved. Born in the East End of Glasgow (he was in the same class as Lulu at Whitehills), he first trained as a quantity surveyor, though he failed his exams because he spent too many nights at the Citizens' Theatre.

His best mucker was, and still is, Kenny Ireland. They met in Millport as 13-year-olds and the friendship has stood the test of time. Indeed, it was Ireland who talked the teenage Paterson into signing up for the RSAMD. The actor's first success was with the legendary 7:84 company in the seventies. To many of us, he will always be associated with John McGrath's The Cheviot, The Stag, and the Black Black Oil.

Indeed, in conversation the actor lets slip that there are plans afoot for him to re-unite with McGrath and Alex Norton for a new theatrical project, perhaps along the lines of an up-date to The Cheviot.

These days Paterson is one of the most sought-after actors in the business. His impressive list of television credits include The Singing Detective, Smiley's People, Auf Wiedersehen Pet, Tell Tale Hearts, and Traffik. No self-respecting British feature film would be complete without him (Truly Madly Deeply, Defence of the Realm, Comfort and Joy, A Private Function).

He will be seen later this month fronting a major new contemporary thriller series on BBC1. The Writing On The Wall, which was written by his acting chum Patrick Malahide (under the pen name P.G. Duggan) and also stars Celia Imrie and William H. Macy (most recently seen in the Coen Brothers' Fargo), is a dark chilling drama about a series of terrorist attacks on British and American military bases in Germany.

Paterson explains: ``Patrick started writing this about seven or eight years ago. It's really about a plot to undermine Nato. First you think it is Irish terrorists because a British base is the target. Then you think it might be the Baader-Meinhoff, and then it could be the Russians.

``I play this MI5 officer - I think Patrick might have written the part for himself - who is really a fairly ordinary copper who has worked his way up through the ranks of military intelligence and has become a leader in his field. The British are exporting guys like this all over the world to advise on terrorism.''

Bill Paterson, uncommonly modest for an actor, appreciates his success. ``I have always tried to keep it in perspective. There is some reassurance in knowing that you are in demand. It is nice to know and it means that you have plenty of options. Nowadays actors, like everyone else, tend to grasp things a little more than in the past. There is less `easy come, easy go' about it.

``It is quite right that people should go out and make their own work - they become producers and directors and writers. I don't do it in any practical way, but I think it may well be something I'll have to get on with. I keep thinking `Would you just not like to write a very nice film with a nice wee part for you'. But that way lies madness. It never seems to make for a particularly easy life,'' he adds.

n The Writing On The Wall, a four-part drama, is scheduled for transmission on BBC1 at the end of July. The Crow Road is still being filmed in Argyll and Glasgow.