With his dog by his side, his long neck wrapped up in a maroon scarf, Jeremy Irons settles into a drab Midtown Manhattan conference room. He pushes his wiry frame into a plastic chair and turns his steely gaze at his interviewer. It’s raining outside — well, spitting — and he’s had to deal with Big Apple traffic that’s slowed to a crawl. To say nothing of overzealous security guards who are none too pleased about allowing his puppy into the office building. They don’t care if the owner has won the “Triple Crown” of acting, with a Tony, Emmy, and Oscar on his mantel. He’s tired, he says, but despite the nasty weather, he still has a certain drawing room charm, pronouncing himself “delighted” to be here.