I've never been here. This is not a representation of my character,” says Alessandro Nivola, sliding into the broad, beige-y booth of a Park Avenue joint with a decidedly ladies-who-lunch vibe one recent Sunday morning in New York. The lighting is flattering. The prices alarm. The waitstaff scurry about as if catering to nobility.

“I’ve got some photo shoot around the corner,” Nivola demurs, dimples flashing, about his request to meet here. “I’m not like, ‘This is me!’” In fact, Nivola has spent the better part of the past few decades trying to explain to Hollywood folks (casting directors, regular directors, industry bigwigs) who exactly he is — a character actor in a leading man’s body — and what exactly to do with him.