FOR CAGE IT’S ALL AN ACT

nuts. In one take, he yelled at the nurse, ‘If you call the police, I’ll whip your ass and break your little arm!’ and it felt so real, like he really meant it. We were like, ‘OK, Nic! Let’s do a couple more takes, and remember this is a PG-13 movie.’ ’’

There are scenes in Spirit of Vengeance – stretches of exposition and plot advancement – in which Cage plays things straight and occasionally looks a little bored. There are also moments such as the one in which Blaze tries to warn people about his demonic alter-ego by saying, ‘‘This thing has no reason! No conscience! Just . . . hunger!’’

Then there are the scenes in which Cage is sucking people’s souls out of their mouths. Unlike the first film, in which the charac- ter was often comprised entirely of computer-generated imagery, Cage played the Ghost Rider in most of the action scenes himself, sporting black contact lenses and Baron Samedi makeup on his face. The flaming skull-head was later superimposed with computers.

The intensity of the role took a toll, especially since Cage is the kind of actor who takes his work home with him.

‘‘The fact that Neveldine and Taylor were open to what I call my Nouveau Shamanic style of acting is a testament to their openness and bravery as directors,’’ Cage says.

‘‘I have these little relics from ancient Egypt, taken from the tombs of important people, which I sewed into my leather jacket.

‘‘These are things called power objects,’’ he explains, almost making air quotes with his hands.

‘‘Whether they work or not isn’t relevant. It’s a matter of believing that they’re stimulating your imagination, so you don’t have to act, because I don’t like the word acting. I think it implies lying or something false. I want to really be honest in my portrayals, and Neveldine and Taylor let me do that.’’

IN SPIRIT of Vengeance, which was filmed in Eastern Europe and Turkey, Cage would disappear into character when playing the Ghost Rider. He would walk around with his face painted like a skull. He glared at people through his black contact lenses, which, when you think about it, was probably a little scary.

He wouldn’t say a word to anyone on the set, because Blaze speaks, but the Ghost Rider doesn’t (he’s a skeleton – he has no tongue or vocal cords).

‘‘I could see the fear in the eyes of the crew, and that was oxygen to my forest fire,’’ Cage says.

‘‘Taylor said he felt an unholy energy was coming off me at times. The problem was leaving all that behind when I went home.

‘‘When you’ve been playing Ghost Rider until 3am, and then you get invited to a Christmas party in Romania and you throw in a couple of gin martinis, all hell can break loose, and it did.’’

Here’s the thing to remember about Cage: he really means all this stuff. Collectively, his films have grossed more than US$4 billion worldwide. He also has one of the most diverse bodies of work of any actor of his generation. Cage, 48, has won an Oscar (for Leaving Las Vegas) and he has directed a movie (2002’s Sonny, about a male prostitute played by James Franco). He has made films for Martin Scorsese, Oliver Stone, Werner Herzog, Alan Parker, David Lynch, Michael Bay and John Woo.

Say what you will about his choices, which at times have been dubious ( Bangkok Dangerous, Season of the Witch). Laugh all you want when one of his movies goes radically wrong (a two-minute clip of choice scenes from his performance in the 2006 remake of The Wicker Man has amassed more than three million views on Youtube).

But Cage commits to all his roles with the same ferocity, regardless of their pedigree, and he is completely, utterly self-aware. He knows to turn down his volume when acting in family entertainments such as

‘Nic is just like a kid. He always wants to come out and play. He’s always coming up with ideas on the set, and 97 per cent of the time what he brings is amazing. And he’s a method actor, so he puts one million per cent into every single take.’ MARK NEVELDINE, DIRECTOR

National Treasure or The Family Man. There’s no need to scare the children in those. But most of Cage’s films have been genre pictures, because those are the ones that allow him to try out the crazy stuff: fighting axe-wielding killers while hugging a naked prostitute ( Drive Angry), eating a live cockroach on camera ( Vampire’s Kiss), or peeing a jet stream of fire ( Spirit of Vengeance).

‘‘Nic is just like a kid. He always wants to come out and play,’’ Neveldine says . ‘‘He’s always coming up with ideas on the set, and 97 per cent of the time what he brings is amazing. And he’s a method actor, so he puts one million per cent into every single take.

‘‘Brian and I trip on that stuff. We love it when Nic goes crazy. You do have to grab him sometimes and say: ‘OK, let’s pull it back a little’, but he’s so passionate and intense. The guy is a force.’’

He also refuses to apologise. Cage knows some people see him as a sellout – a gifted actor who has devoted himself to pay-cheque roles – but he’s much too far along in his career to worry about stuff like that.

Whatever critics and audiences think of Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance, Cage says he’s genuinely proud of it. The film is not quite like any comic-book movie you’ve seen before, and it gave Cage a chance to experiment further with his craft.

So what if he looks like a skull during the best parts of his performance?

‘‘ Spirit of Vengeance is an incredibly abstract, psychedelic bit of pop art. It’s like Lichtenstein,’’ he says.

‘‘I have to give some respect to Sony [Pictures] for being brave enough to make something like this. You don’t see this kind of movie coming out of studios often, and Neveldine and Taylor made sure the film is still accessible to large audiences. Acting has to stay exploratory and fresh and challenging. Otherwise it gets stale. And this movie was definitely challenging.

‘‘There were times when it seriously messed with my head, but it also allowed me to try something new with my acting. These days, that’s what interests me most.’’

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