I find that kid actors are great reminders of the simplicity of acting. As you get older, you can sometimes complicate things a little more. You can become too aware of, 'Okay, this is the scene emotionally. This is where we need to be. We've got the climax coming up.' You can start to analyze it too much.

My mum and I are, in many ways, quite similar. We're both creative, gregarious, and energetic.

When you fall in love and you get married, it’s such a relief. You’re like, ‘Oh, this feels so right and this woman is just so great and I love her.’ And then you have a kid — it kind of just gets even bigger. And it’s frustrating and it’s tiring and all those things but your sense of, like, living life becomes so much bigger.

I don't think I knew how going to Ethiopia would affect my life, through a very simple choice of buying fair-trade coffee, we can take part in change.

I was probably more scared of my high school exams than I was of the Oscars. At the time you think it's everything and if you don't do well, your life's over. Opportunities are gone. So the more you do it, the less the fear is present.

At the end of drama school, I made a contract with myself: I'd try acting for five years. I was 26. I had already spent eight years working in restaurants and gas stations. So I had seen enough small businesses to understand that that's what acting is: a small business.

My parents were drawn to the idea that there was space and opportunity in Australia. For the meagre sum of £10, you could sail your entire family out to Australia, so that's what my father chose to do.