Dan Aykroyd is nestling in a red patent leather booth in a West End bar. There are chandeliers, white vinyl bar stools that are diamond studded, and plenty of dark oak. It’s a strange combination of solid, eccentric and welcoming – just like Aykroyd himself.
It’s 9.30am, and Aykroyd, 59, has just flown in to London on a whistle-stop tour. No signs of jet lag; instead there’s just adrenalin-fuelled enthusiasm. Or perhaps it’s the vodka. He’s here for the UK launch of his own line of the spirit, a flamboyantly packaged fire water named Crystal Head. He hasn’t released a film since the less-than-well-received Yogi Bear, in 2010, and while promoting that film he explained why he’s so picky about his cinematic projects. “I will walk out the door for the pay cheque I deserve and working with the superstars,” he said. “I’m not going to work for people who are unknown.”
