WHO IS STEVE COOGAN ... ... AND WHY ARE PEOPLE SAYING ALL THESE ODD THINGS ABOUT HIM?

Byline: Bob Strauss Film Writer

We're worried that Americans may be getting the wrong impression of Steve Coogan.

But that's just us. The 40-year-old British funnyman doesn't seem unduly concerned about the fact that, in two of his last four films released here, he plays a character named Steve Coogan, who in each film (Jim Jarmusch's ``Coffee and Cigarettes'' and the current ``Tristram Shandy: A Cock & Bull Story'') is about as vain, petty and self-absorbed as an actor can get.

``You can go around in circles,'' notes the Manchester-born Coogan, who has also played very different roles in such American movies as ``Around the World in 80 Days'' and ``Happy Endings,'' but is most famous in Britain for skewering pompous show-biz types, such as his perpetually unprepared TV interviewer, Alan Partridge.

``You can say, maybe I'm being clever because, if I'm portraying myself negatively, it's as if to say I'm not really like this. Therefore, it's not really self-deprecating, but rather kind of arrogant - like look how much humility I have because I can portray myself negatively. I mean, that could be the way you could view it. I've just got to run with my instincts on this.''

Coogan laughs at the convoluted insight of that statement. And while it may indeed be his view of his own image, it's definitely in keeping with the nature of ``Shandy.'' Based on Laurence Sterne's massive, brilliantly (if frustratingly) digressive and little-read 18th-century novel ``The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman,'' the movie is basically about the tail-chasing futility of trying to make a movie out of an unfocused, impossible-to-film book.

Directed by Michael Winterbottom, who made the Coogan-starring saga about the Manchester new-wave music scene ``24 Hour Party People,'' ``Shandy'' features the actor in three roles: ``himself,'' or at least the film within the film's lead actor; narrator Tristram, who in the book never quite gets around to discussing his own life; and Tristram's father, Walter, who pretty much behaves like a horse's ass while awaiting the arrival of his baby son.

Throughout the production, the film's Coogan is plagued by tabloid reporters, romantic dysfunctions and spasms of actorly egomania, much of the latter triggered by his co-star Rob Brydon (played by Rob Brydon, in real life a comic acting protege of Coogan's), whom the star fears is out to steal the show.

``There's more affection between us than in the film,'' the real Brydon assures us. ``In the film, it's of a heightened nature, but yes, there is a competitiveness. We're both aware of it, but we find it amusing. It would be wrong to say that that's just completely made up.''

But what about the way Steve comes off as this very insecure and rather venal guy?

``Well, that does it for me,'' Brydon cracks. ``But I think what we both do in our kind of comedy is deal with human failings and insecurities. What we've done in this film is very much our sort of thing, our kind of calling-card stuff, though we're doing it as ourselves.''

Informed of his buddy's statements, Coogan graciously reciprocates. Or, at least, he maintains a straight face.

``Rob is a great supporting actor,'' his friend says, um, sincerely.'' He'll have a great career as a supporting actor. You know, he's made the best of what he's got. He's not blessed with good looks, he's below average height. And I think, with those handicaps, he's made great progress.''

While making fun of actors' character flaws is an old sport, Coogan likes to think that ``Tristram Shandy'' ultimately skewers movie people realistically and with a kindness that's missing from many a Hollywood expose picture, such as ``The Player'' or ``America's Sweethearts.''

``In the film, I become obsessed with the height of my shoes, and the next morning, because I'm in a different mood, suddenly it's not important anymore,'' he notes as an example. ``I know for a fact that happens a lot. You might get a bee in your bonnet and two people are arguing about something, and it becomes about something else, but when you look at it in the cold light of the next day, it's not that important.

``So, that's accurate. Film sets are full of slightly mad people. The people who make films lead a very odd existence. They don't have stability in their lives because they go from working intensively with one group of people who they never see again after several months, then they work intensively with another group of people. That leads to people being dysfunctional. But what's important about this film is that Michael isn't just mocking people in the crazy film industry. What makes the film work is that there's a kind of warmth about it, a nonjudgmental resolution. It says don't be too harsh on people because we all have our issues. It's easy to be cynical about ponzie actors. But it's quite generous-hearted and not cynical.''

This fits nicely with Coogan's own approach to filmed comedy. Trained in traditional drama before he became a stand-up comedian, Coogan brings an unusual amount of character integrity to all of his comic roles. He abhors sacrificing behavioral logic for an easy laugh. And that may be why he's drawn to playing exaggerated versions of himself - after all, what more consistent set of traits can an actor work with than his own?

``What I do is sort of turn the volume up on my foibles and inadequacies and neuroses to aid the comedy,'' he explains.

But can we ever trust that we're getting the straight story from Steve Coogan? Even he insists that we're not. Something of a tabloid target back home, where he has a bad-boy reputation that he doesn't actually say is undeserved, Coogan has been the target of some outrageous accusations, like last summer's report that self-immolating rocker Courtney Love was carrying his love child (both parties swiftly denied that one). < ``I have a choice,'' says Coogan, who's been married once and has a daughter from a previous relationship. ``If I see things in print that may have some truth but I think are distorted or present an imbalanced view of me, I can either try to redress that by saying, 'Oh no, I'm not just like that. There's this other part of me that's really nice and great.' But that entails opening up another side of me to people.

``The alternative is to let people not have a complete view of, and maybe have a mistaken view of, me, but keep the privacy of knowing what that other part of me is. Given the choice - and it's not an ideal choice, because I'd rather it was all hunky-dory - I'd rather people have a slightly incorrect view of me and keep that part that is personal to myself, instead of trying to convince people that there's this other side of me that is well-adjusted and everything.''

Well, OK, we can't tell you who Steve Coogan really is. But we can say that any person as self-aware as this who can play densely deluded versions of himself so well is one talented actor.

Bob Strauss, [phone]

bob.strauss(at)dailynews.com

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(1 -- 2 -- color) ``What I do is sort of turn the volume up on my foibles and inadequacies and neuroses to aid the comedy,'' says Steve Coogan, the quirky star of ``Tristram Shandy: A Cock & Bull Story.''