Inside Mr. Outsider

A wine snob, a movie nerd, a comic-book curmudgeon, guys nicknamed Pig Vomit or Veal Chop -- this is the domain ruled by actor Paul Giamatti. With his sloping posture and uncanny ability to project a wounded intelligence in films such as “American Splendor” and “Storytelling,” Giamatti, 37, has carved out a niche as the ultimate outsider.

In “Sideways,” the new film from Alexander Payne, the director of “About Schmidt” and “Election,” Giamatti has crafted his most delicately textured performance yet. As an underachieving novelist on a wine-country getaway with his old college buddy, Giamatti plays a man trying to drown his troubles under a tidal wave of varietals, tannin and vintages -- until he learns to open up a little and go with the flow.

Did you do have to study up on wine in preparation for “Sideways?”

A lot of what I was supposed to say and do was on the page. I was more interested in the way those people are, the mannerisms and the behaviors; there’s all sorts of little things those people do. The way a perfectly normal human being goes out to dinner and orders a bottle and becomes a total freak, a pedantic weirdo talking about wine. Who they are, those big wine enthusiasts -- that was more interesting than learning about the wine. Everything I had to say was written down, so I just kind of watched some of these people and it helped me more than actually learning about the right terms or whatever.

You’ve got a solid career going as a character actor, but now you’re also getting lead roles too. Is that something you expected to happen?

I don’t necessarily think of them as lead roles. I suppose “American Splendor” and this are really kind of ensemble things; I never felt like I was playing the lead guy. I was playing the guy where you see the movie through his eyes, but not necessarily the lead guy. It’s very surprising to me, sure. It’s nice, but surprising.

Is it tough going back to supporting roles once you’ve had a bigger part?

It’s more what I’m used to, so it doesn’t feel strange. It’s an interesting thing, that whole thing. I always think being a lead actor, playing leading men, there’s a real character thing about people who are good at that. I think I have the mentality of a supporting actor. I don’t have the brain chemistry of a leading actor. And in some ways I find the supporting thing harder, actually. You have to be really sharp and on top of your game, you have a smaller number of scenes to accomplish your task. Particularly in “Sideways,” where I was in every scene of the movie, I had to realize I could relax and spread it out more. I was approaching it like I had to pack too much into every moment and scene the way you would as a supporting guy, because you have a smaller space to work in. That’s very true. And like I said, it’s just a different pathology and I don’t know if I have that leading-man psychology.

You seem to have a real knack for bringing a certain dignity and humanity to lonely, depressed characters. Is it tough to not let those kinds of feelings seep into your life off the set?

Sometimes it can be really fun to play somebody that’s depressed, precisely because it’s not my life. In “Sideways” his depression is so relentless it’s really meant to be comical in some ways. But it can be a bit of a bummer. Some other things could probably be more fun. But it doesn’t necessarily make you happy to play a happy person. Playing a genuinely happy person, not like a vapid idiot, is really hard in some ways. It is for me anyway. But I don’t find it affects me too much playing depressed people. It’s kind of fun.