The first time Jeremy Irvine sang in front of Björn Ulvaeus and Benny Andersson, he’d just got off a flight — transatlantic, no less. Fresh-ish from Los Angeles, he’d popped into a recording studio in Hampstead to meet the ABBA men, having already filmed his part in Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again. He was due to record his song there eventually. Just not that day. After all, he’d only just got off a plane. But Benny was there, Benny was at the piano, and things rather got away from Irvine.

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“He just starts playing!” laughs the actor. “And I’m like: oh, fuck! No warm-up or anything. Just straight in.”

Then came the takes. And the takes. And the takes. Irvine reckons he holds the cast record for most attempts at a song on the whole soundtrack: around 47 jet-lagged stabs at Knowing Me, Knowing You. ‘A-ha!’ indeed. “Obviously it was shit. Like, really bad. And eventually Benny just says: I think we’ve got it in there — somewhere. What do you mean, I thought! I only sang for about 30 seconds. What are you going to use — one second from every take?”

Benny, it turns out, was right. Of course he was. He’s ABBA’s second B, when all is said and done. And it all worked out. The film went on to be a smash hit, as did the soundtrack. A bona fide chart-topper, it even earned Irvine an Official Number 1 Award — a trophy for the mantelpiece. “I’ve got it at home! I’m a best-selling artist — and no-one can take that away from me!”

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Irvine plays a younger version of Pierce Brosnan’s character in the musical. And when Brosnan appeared on the cover of Gentleman’s Journal in 2020, he also mentioned his singing silverware: “I have a platinum album!” said the former Bond. “And a gold album!” It’s an uncanny callback, but not as uncanny as Irvine’s mastery of Brosnan’s brogue for the role — a genuinely bizarre bit of vocal gymnastics.

“Don’t say that!” says Irvine. “Because I’ve forgotten how to do it now. We were down the pub the other day, talking about impressions, and I realised I’ve lost it!”

Incidentally, we’re “down the pub” now, too, at The Surprise in Chelsea. It’s a delight, although “a little bougier” than the pubs Irvine’s used to. His favourite boozer, he says, is The Dolphin, near Kingsbridge in Devon — “It’s not a ‘nice’ pub, though. It’s like walking into someone’s cellar. But so authentic!” The Surprise, thankfully, has mod-cons like air-con — useful, given we’re slap-bang in the middle of the great British heatwave. And there are worse ways to spend a Thursday afternoon than talking Brosnan, lightly chilled, over a zero-percent beer and a big bowl of chips.

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“Pierce was lovely,” says Irvine. “Although we were all living on this tiny island, and I fangirled over him so hard that I’d really wound him up by the end of the shoot. But he was my Bond! Actually, I was such a pest that he gave me a fake email at the end of the job. And not even a good fake email — there wasn’t even an @!”

But that was 2017. Irvine’s tucked a few more high-profile roles under his belt since then — although, in this heat, he’s more of a drawstring man. After three consecutive summers working away from home, he’s spent the last few weeks moving house, doing DIY and gardening, all in the comfiest clothes he owns. “I stopped wearing things that weren’t comfortable about six years ago. I especially don’t wear uncomfy shoes any more — I don’t care how good they look!”

Sadly, on set, Irvine doesn’t get much say in the matter. Which begs the question: with an Army lieutenant, an Air Force pararescueman and a succession of frontline infantrymen on his CV, why does he keep gravitating towards military roles? “Yeah…” He pauses. “The uniforms are great — but they’re horrendously uncomfortable. I’m always wondering: how the fuck did anyone fight in this?” In The Woman in Black: Angel of Death, Irvine plays an RAF pilot, complete with handsome shearling flight jacket. “I’ve still got that, actually! A very nice jacket — I must dig it out this winter.”

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And all those military roles, it turns out, aren't so random after all. Irvine grew up in the small Cambridgeshire village of Gamlingay, and went to cadets as a teenager. He’d always wanted to enlist. “I went down the recruiting office when I was 17. But I’m diabetic, so they said I could join, but I wouldn’t be deployable. I thought, well there’s that dream over.” He shrugs, fishing out another chip. “But then I found acting. And while I didn’t retain a huge amount from cadets, when it comes to war films, I sort of know my way around. I can march!”

And he’s got the jacket. “Although, normally, they don’t let you keep anything,” says the actor. “I’ve got some great stuff that comes in handy for dressing-up parties, though. I did Great Expectations and got a few long, period coats. I need to steal more, though, for rainy days!”

But perhaps Irvine’s greatest set souvenir comes from his latest film, supernatural horror Return to Silent Hill — his third horror. “God, it’s exhausting making horrors,” he says, “because you’re acting scared all the time and fear is a really heightened emotion. It’s knackering!” This time, though, it wasn’t clothing Irvine took from the set, but a 3D-scanned, latex-moulded model of his own torso and head. “Made for a stunt where someone had to put their entire hand down my throat,” he grimaces. “It’s got stubble — individual hairs — and eyes. And teeth!”

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“But to get it out at parties is brilliant,” he adds. “I keep it in my shed, but if someone’s staying, I’ll set him up at the kitchen table with a laptop, put some of my clothes on him. It’s wanky behaviour, but a good gag. My neighbour has a pool, and I’ve always wanted to pop a jacket and some trousers on the thing and leave it face-down, floating. You know, just to shit him up.”

Irvine has, of course, taken less harrowing things away from film sets, too — chief among them, a strange collection of skills. “Some mad shit,” he laughs. “I learnt bits of Hungarian, I learnt how to blacksmith, I spent a week with a farrier. Martial arts. But you get yourself into a heightened state where you can retain stuff, and then…”

He clicks. “It’s the same with fight choreography. I did the Jason Bourne series, Treadstone, and that was awesome. And for my first job, there was obviously horse riding, too.”

That would be War Horse, the Steven Spielberg-helmed drama that plunged Irvine in at the professional deep end. It was the biggest of big breaks — but one he landed by lying on his CV. “Everyone lies on their CV!” he says. “Most people can’t do half the stuff they say. For War Horse, I thought everyone would say they knew how to ride a horse. So I just took it one step further and said I grew up on a stable.”

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But the horse riding continues to come in handy. In Irvine’s latest lead role, playing First World War soldier Henry Beauchamp in Outlander: Blood of My Blood, he’s back in the saddle. Sadly, due to scheduling issues around the show's second season, he was forced to drop out of ballroom dancing comedy The Light Fantastic. “I’d spent four months learning to dance, with Shirley Ballas from Strictly!” But Irvine’s more than happy to ditch the Cuban heels for the Scottish countryside.

“Because the detail on Outlander sets is always extraordinary. All the banquet food is real, cooked using recipe books from the 1700s. Lobsters, weird pies, things in jelly.” He hesitates, then goes for another chip anyway. “They’re just so hot on historical detail — no corners cut. This season, there’s a battle sequence with hundreds of extras, and every single button matches the relevant British regiment or Scottish clan. They don’t need to do that! But it’s incredible.”

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Irvine likens it to Harry Potter. “I love that universe, because the world — not just the characters — is so well-established. You feel as though you’re really stepping into something. It’s escapism.”

Yet, as the actor prepares to embark on an Outlander promotional tour — from Australia to America — he’s acutely aware that the strangest world is still that of celebrity. And the oddest spot of the lot? The Cannes Film Festival.

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“Absolutely wild, that place. But an amazing experience. I got a little tap on the shoulder when I was there, years ago, to go to Roman Abramovich’s house for a private dinner to celebrate The Great Gatsby. So it was DiCaprio, Carey Mulligan, people like that.” Sometimes, Irvine says, you’re allowed a plus one, “but I had five of my friends sleeping on the floor of my hotel room. So we dressed everyone up in suits, I told them all to act like my driver, and we all snuck in. It was mad — just looking over and seeing my friend chatting to DiCaprio’s mum!”

It’s a long way from Gamlingay — and Irvine knows it. Perhaps that’s why the glamour still gets him, every time. “Completely overwhelming! At that party, particularly, I just spent a lot of time walking around with my mouth open.”

“But I still do,” he adds — chips done, beer drunk. “I love it. I think I used to be embarrassed about getting overwhelmed and starstruck. But now? The older I get? I crave it.”