There are few things in life that are absolute: Bill Nighy will never wear shorts. Or say “My bad.” And he’ll never show up with a suntan, a word he says with such contempt, it sounds like a moral transgression.
Mr. Nighy, 75, an English actor who earned an Oscar nomination for his star turn in the 2022 film “Living,” a remake of the Akira Kurosawa film “Ikiru,” is perhaps best known for appearing in “Love, Actually” and “Pirates of the Caribbean.” Last year, Mr. Nighy took on what may be his most fitting role yet: the self-deprecating host of “Ill-Advised With Bill Nighy,” a podcast on which he is what the British call an “agony uncle,” or advice columnist. It’s a refuge for, as the website puts it, the “clumsy and awkward” and “an invitation to squander time.”
For 25 minutes each week, Mr. Nighy answers questions from listeners all over the world such as “What do you do when you forget somebody’s name?” and “What do you wear on an airplane?” Leaning into the agony aspect of his role, he urges them not to take his advice. His goal is simply not to make anything worse, despite holding irreverent opinions, especially when it comes to sartorial matters. He believes, for example, that no man should forgo socks or wear linen. And that those who wear jeans should opt for Levi 501s with a generous cut. “Nothing too tight,” he said on the podcast. “Don’t be weird.”
The first season of his podcast, comprising 11 episodes, became a cult favorite, with over 300,000 monthly listeners, much to Mr. Nighy’s surprise. And on March 18, “Ill-Advised With Bill Nighy” was named the 2026 podcast of the year by Britain’s Broadcasting Press Guild. The next day, the premiere episode of Season 2 aired, memorably titled “It’s Always a Genitalia Thing.” In it, Mr. Nighy discusses restaurant etiquette, belly button phobia and sock-length protocol — the essentials.
Mr. Nighy attributes the podcast’s success to his mellifluous voice, which he refers to as a “sleep aid” and a “psychological accident.” The actor explained, “It gives the impression of being confident and at ease when, really, I’m spinning on a needle of self-doubt.”
Being a podcaster was not something he had set out to do, Mr. Nighy said. In fact, he was initially resistant because, as the actor explained, he had no desire to join the general conversation, nor the world of celebrity podcasts. The idea emerged during a press junket in 2024, when British Vogue built a set for Mr. Nighy with an armchair and a radio and filmed him responding to questions from the public. Most of the questions centered on trousers. Ultimately, he was persuaded by Ciara Parkes, his longtime publicist and friend.
Much of the appeal of “Ill-Advised” comes from the spontaneity of Mr. Nighy’s wry, revealing responses — the producers don’t show him the questions in advance. On an episode called “Pocket Squares Make Me Uneasy,” for example, one listener asked how to best to respond to someone who decides to join you when you’ve chosen to eat lunch by yourself. “It’s unforgivable for anybody to join you at lunch,” Mr. Nighy told her. “It should be a crime.” He then described the various ways he had handled this social atrocity, and concluded with the advice: “Stand your ground and say, ‘Please, I’m enjoying a moment of privacy.’”
“The producers choose the questions they feel that I’ll respond well to and that are not about big life decisions,” Mr. Nighy told The New York Times. “If I was to start pontificating about, you know, romantic matters, you should call a cab.”
The actor would rather ponder trousers. “I’m crazy about the endless possibility of trousers,” he said. “I don’t want to cut them off at the knee, but it became sort of compulsory, socially unacceptable not to wear shorts in a holiday destination,” he added, “but then I’m never at a holiday destination. Because I never go on holidays.”
Mr. Nighy said that he was a huge fan of “sitting around” when not at work, though, lately, he has been working quite a bit. Currently, he’s in Liverpool, where he has been filming “A Town in Nova Scotia,” directed by the Iranian British director Babak Jalali. And he just wrapped a TV series, written by Hugo Blick, that cast him and Helena Bonham Carter as ex-ballroom dancers who live in a trailer park. “I’m amazed that they allowed him to make it,” Mr. Nighy said. “It ticks no boxes. It’s radical in that regard.”
The actor, who is single and never cooks, enjoys dining out most evenings on his own with a book. By the time he gets back, it’s not long before bedtime. Yet even when he is home alone, where no one can see him, Mr. Nighy insists his standards are never compromised. “I wear whatever I’ve got on until I go to bed,” he said.
That includes a suit. “I would take off the jacket and put it over a chair, but I would continue to wear the trousers and the shirt and the tie,” Mr. Nighy said. “There’s no transitional clothing. I don’t own pajamas. I’ve never understood why people get dressed to go to bed.”
Nor does he own a pair of slippers. He wears shoes or goes barefoot until bedtime.
The podcast host believes he needs to put on something respectable in the event he is robbed, so he wears a John Smedley dark navy blue long-sleeve T-shirt. “I’m already being burgled, which is humiliating.”
He’d prefer a burglar leave with a good impression. After all, Mr. Nighy has a reputation to uphold for his hundreds of thousands of listeners all over the world.
