“It’s something I don’t have to act at doing, it’s something I do.” Indeed, there’s an example coming in Double Whammy, where Guzman plays a father whose daughter wants to kill him – literally. She hires a hitman because Papi won’t let her get a tattoo.As he quickly points out, however, his children – four of whom are adopted – are far from being mean teens The oldest is 11, the youngest (twins) are seven. So has he been driven to success by having so many mouths to feed? Is that why he works so much? “I think I’m fortunate enough to come across good material,” he says modestly. “There’s a lot of material out there and there are some actors who work all the time but not everybody gets the good material to work with.

I think I’ve been one of those people.” Although he says he’s still waiting for a part with “that 10-page monologue that I can believe every which way”, he’s finally snagged himself a lead role. Guzman will be the star in a new sitcom on Fox scheduled to start in America this autumn, called simply Luis, in which he plays a donut-shop owner in Spanish Harlem.Here in the UK, though, we’ll have to make do with his turn in Anger Management, which Guzman got thanks to Adam Sandler, with whom he worked on Punch-Drunk Love. “Adam and I met and we really hit it off really well,” says Guzman “I would say that we’re really good friends We talk at least once a month And he’s a real genuine person.” Just like Luis.. How close do you want to get to Adolf Hitler? In a couple of weeks, when Menno Meyjes’s Max opens in the UK, you’ll be able to see the hairs bristle in his nostrils, the gob pooling at the corners of his mouth, the sweat darkening the fabric of his shirt. Noah Taylor – Geoffrey Rush’s younger incarnation in Shine – is the actor going where Alec Guinness, Charlie Chaplin and Anthony Hopkins have gone before. But there’s a difference – these actors never had to play the dictator in his days as an art student in Munich, covering his sketch pad with kitschy, sci-fi cityscapes populated by stern, uniformed blondes, goggling with delight at the action of an anti-semitic puppet show, or making disastrous attempts to chat up girls. Hitler: The Rise of Evil recently premi?d on US television and critics fought to load praise upon him.

(“He nails it,” declared the New York Post, as “a horrible, dangerous, delusional, incredibly powerful, incredibly angry man who was in the right place at the wrong time.”) Max has not been quite so lucky. The film takes its cue from Albert Speer’s pronouncement that a proper understanding of Hitler can only be reached through a consideration of his failed career as a painter. John Cusack is the title character, an art dealer who attempts to wean young Adolf away from bierkeller demagoguery and on to Dadaism. Before a shot was in the can, pressure groups were asserting that any film that set out to portray the human – and potentially sympathetic – side of Hitler would be a dangerous folly. After its release, most reversed their position, but the critics were largely baffled by the picture. Max was “a bizarro-world version of High Fidelity in which Jack Black has been replaced by a sullen warmonger with kooky ideas about the purity of blood.” Meyjes had turned Hitler into “a buffoon”. On screen, however, Hitler has rarely been anything else.A year or so ago, I bumped into the actor Michael Sheard at a party You might not know the name, but you’d know the face.