MY performance in One Battle After Another – the hit black comedy that had you holding in a piss for three hours – won me a BAFTA for Best Supporting Actor. But I’m also supporting vulnerable bridge jumpers in California.

Yes, when I’m not being a serious actor, activist and chain smoker, I like to talk down bridge jumpers. It’s one of my many side hustles, along with dating a 30-year-old and getting involved with complex international affairs.

It all started in the 90s when I bumped into two bridge jumpers in under a week while shooting in LA. I immediately decided that a rugged, compelling storyteller like myself had to step in. My lack of formal training didn’t hold me back; just like acting, crisis negotiation is all about confidence, repetition, and access to make-up and catering.

At first I found it hard to gain access to an unfolding crisis. But when I threw my voice loudly enough to say that I’d won an Oscar and was married to Madonna, those police cordons lifted right up. Soon I was getting high fives from all the officers after stopping someone from splattering themselves all over the I-10 to San Bernardino.

Admittedly, the first guy jumped before I could introduce myself, give him my headshot, and quote some of my best lines from Carlito’s Way. But I managed to drag the second guy to safety in a headlock. The mayor gave me a medal for that one. Or was it a cease and desist? I can never remember.

I quickly got a taste for saving someone’s life, even though I did seriously injure him in the process. I went out and got police scanner radios installed in every room of my sprawling Malibu home, ignoring mere robberies and vicious, life-changing assaults and keeping an ear out purely for any potential new jumpers.

Over the years, I’ve visited almost a dozen active scenes and got face time with nine jumpers, saving six. Which is a pretty good ratio if you think about it. But not for too long. My approach is simple: I tell them life can’t be that bad – I was in The Angry Birds Movie and I got over it, moved on and learned to believe in myself again.

I’ll continue my fine work as long as the state of California lets me. Or until the multi-million dollar civil lawsuit from the families of the deceased hits court. Whichever’s first. Now if you’ll excuse me, it sounds like someone just pulled over their pickup truck in the middle of the Golden Gate Bridge. Penn away!