Kiefer Sutherland: 'After 24, I assumed opportunities would flood my path—but they didn’t.'
I’m barreling toward sixty at a dizzying pace,” jokes the still-spry 58-year-old actor, “and I’m keenly aware that people cared more about my opinions when I was thirty than they do now.”
Whether you believe that’s true or not, it’s a fear Sutherland has channeled with gripping purpose. Known to many as Jack Bauer, the high-octane star of 24 who emerged from the shadows of his legendary father, he’s turned that anxiety into fuel in recent years. He explored it most intensely in 2023, delivering perhaps the finest work of his career as a beleaguered naval commander in William Friedkin’s final film, The Caine Mutiny Court-Martial. “The character’s world hinges on marginalization,” he reflects. “What happens when you reach an age where you feel useless, where your opinions don’t matter, where nobody cares what you think? When I injected some of my own feelings into him, I finally felt empathy for the man. He wasn’t an asshole anymore.”
Sutherland isn’t really an asshole, in truth. He’s speaking ahead of the release of Tinsel Town, a Christmas comedy that pokes fun at itself in true British fashion, in which he portrays a Hollywood action star who’s somehow drafted into a Yorkshire pantomime. His role, Brad Mack, is a loud-talking showbiz veteran whose dormant softer side emerges only after coaxing—from his partly estranged daughter and a choreographer played by Rebel Wilson. “The Brits do this kind of movie better than anyone,” he says. “Think The Full Monty—this intimate, small-town story with real heart.”
There will always be a certain Hollywood archetype attached to him, he adds, and leaning into it can be fun. Yet beyond the raucous humor, Mack’s transformation through his daughter’s influence resonated with Sutherland on a personal level. His own daughter, Sarah Sutherland (Veep), was born from his first marriage to Camelia Kath. “You start to believe you have something meaningful to contribute.”
When I spoke with Sutherland, he came across as informed, sincere, and refreshingly unapologetic. A role in a pantomime-based musical was a bold left turn for him—enough to surprise a few people in Los Angeles—but he was drawn to the sheer Britishness of it. Born in London in 1966, he admits to harboring a romantic notion about the UK, a feeling that’s been mutual. “Whenever I’ve visited, part of me feels this is where I’m from,” he confides. “People here have been incredibly supportive.”
Tight series with eight episodes pose a challenge for audiences to stay engaged from start to finish. By the time viewers become immersed, the season ends—leaving them hungry for more.
Sutherland also believes Britons were key to the success of 24. “The show took about a year and a half to catch fire in the United States, but in the UK it exploded almost instantly. Without the British audience, there might not have been a second season.” The show did return for season two, followed by seven more seasons and a feature film, sealing its status as one of television’s landmark real-time counterterrorism dramas.
From his early years, Sutherland’s path diverged from his father’s in both origin and choices. Born in London to Canadian actors Donald Sutherland and Shirley Douglas, he moved to California as a child, then lived with his mother in Toronto after their divorce. What’s striking is how differently the two actors approach their craft, despite a strong physical resemblance.
Donald Sutherland, famed for films like Invasion of the Body Snatchers and MAS*H, carried a certain unruly charm. His son, by contrast, often embodies tension—whether as a hardened operative or a hardened hoodlum in Stand by Me. This has made it hard for those who want to recast him as his father’s successor in legacy projects like a Hunger Games prequel. The chemistry and temperament simply don’t align.
Sutherland attributes this to his mother, a gifted theatre actor who shaped his early worldview. “From a young age, my twin sister and I would finish school and go to the theatre,” he explains. “We’d do our homework while my mother performed, then head home.” He didn’t actually see much of his father’s work until he was eighteen, when home video made it possible. By then, he already had a clear sense of what constitutes strong acting and what he aspired to achieve, inspired by Canadian theatre icons he’d admired growing up.
As for his career choices, Sutherland charted a different course from his father’s era. He notes that his father thrived in a period when American screenwriting boomed—think The Godfather and the glut of powerful material that broke through the blacklist-era barrier. “Those were extraordinary opportunities,” he says, “and my dad seized them with remarkable savvy.”
In the decades that followed, Sutherland pivoted toward television around the turn of the century, building on early fame from films like The Lost Boys and Young Guns. In an era when a long network TV run could feel like a step down, his starring role in 24 helped redefine what television could be for major film names. “I never had a fixed plan for my career,” he admits. “Looking back, there were moments I wish I’d pursued differently.”
He acknowledges that becoming a father at a young age forced him to make early decisions, some of which carried financial weight. “There were opportunities I passed on because of responsibilities I had,” he confesses. And while he sometimes regrets those choices, they also shaped his resilience and adaptability.
That same non-linear approach has allowed him to explore unexpected projects, from Lars von Trier’s Melancholia to a three-season lead on Netflix’s Designated Survivor, proving he can pivot with the best of them.
As our conversation winds down, I mention The Pitt, HBO Max’s real-time medical drama that’s drawn comparisons to 24. Its first season spanned 15 episodes, a throwback by today’s standards, and Season 2 is already on the horizon. Does this signal a broader taste for traditional, sprawling storytelling?
Sutherland weighs in thoughtfully. “Eight episodes is tough for audiences to latch onto,” he says. “When you’re invested, you want more, not to wait another year to see eight more. That cadence is more like an ongoing relationship than a one-off fling.” He contrasts this with 24, which delivered a full slate annually, and notes the difference between forming a real connection and an episodic habit.
He also critiques the streaming-era model: paying for access, then watching ads, even when fans expect a free experience. “Television reinvented itself, yet many pay more than ever for it—while still being sold interruptions.” If anyone can comment intelligently on modern television’s contradictions, it’s Sutherland, a veteran who helped shape its past and is still shaping its present.
Tinsel Town is available now on Sky Cinema and NOW
