Nicole Kidman knows it, the elusive secret to happiness. She exists in a pocket of positivity these days, a 5ft 11in radiator of warmth and contentment. Entirely fresh faced, haloed in beautifully wayward curls, impish grin hovering, there is something almost childlike about the 47-year-old that seems quite at odds with the polished, even cool Hollywood Actress persona that has identified her since her Dead Calm debut in 1989. But then, Hollywood Actresses don’t usually suggest meeting at a Formica-table-topped diner (Noshville, a family favorite in Kidman’s hometown, Nashville, Tennessee), so we are clearly not dealing with the ordinary.
But in fact, Kidman is the most ordinary extraordinary person I have ever met. She is immediately, entirely, un-intimidating. She’s apologetic about her outfit (“I got really dressed up for you today, Birkenstocks and faded jeans!”) and about being a few minutes late – she was with her husband and they lost track of time. That