Orlando Bloom thinks he's approachable; he thinks he hasn't changed. He reckons that becoming an A-list Hollywood star and this country's hottest export doesn't say anything about who he really is. The real Orlando is bemused by it all, though also eternally grateful. He doesn't see why it should change the way people think of him or deal with him. He's just another regular guy.

Which is complete nonsense, of course.

I am waiting for Bloom inside suite 739 of the Beverly Wilshire, the swanky five-star hotel near Rodeo Drive, Beverly Hills. Outside, it's 26 degrees; inside, the air conditioning makes everything seem cold and damp. There is an impressive cold buffet that's hardly been touched
in the corner, and a large desk with three publicists sitting huddled behind a laptop computer. The most senior one — a slim redhead in her forties — works through "56" unopened e-mails, while the other two provide a hushed running commentary. Almost 1½ hours pass before the redhead says it's time, and orders one of her juniors to escort me down.

Suite 708 is smaller and cosier. Bloom looks impressive in the flesh, less boyish and more grown-up. He wears blue jeans and a white T-shirt (both by the menswear designer Neil Barrett), his hair is long (he is about to start shooting the next two instalments of Pirates of the Caribbean) and his skin is flawlessly smooth. Hanging round his neck and right wrist is a large assortment of leather bands and silver chains — trinkets, stones, shells — that make him look like a modern-day pirate.

"You all right?" he asks, shaking my hand, smiling. "Sit down. Want something to drink?"

He points to a large silver tray of non-alcoholic refreshments, while his personal publicist and her assistant disappear to the bedroom next door. The only light relief from the stifling professionalism is his playful dog, Sidi, a labrador cross, sitting obediently next to him on the cream sofa. Bloom found Sidi in Morocco while filming Ridley Scott's latest epic, Kingdom of Heaven — today's official business. Sidi was just six weeks old when Bloom spotted him "eating camel shit out of a box on the side of the road". So he rescued him, got him a doggy passport, and now the two of them are inseparable.

But don't let this cuddly arrangement trick you into thinking that Bloom is a regular guy. This is not Bloom at the beach or in the bar: this is a fiercely protected movie star ensconced in one of Hollywood's finest hotel suites.

The star gives a strictly choreographed performance. He is charming (he says he likes my shoes) and professional (considerate, mildly reflective); there are lots of generous smiles, "wows", and "you knows". Until I say he's got a clean-cut image. This seems to ruffle him quite a bit.

"A clean-cut image!" he shrieks, smacking his legs in horror. "Do I really? Right, I have a clean-cut image." Well, yes, this is partly to do with his roles: a virtuous elf in the Lord of the Rings trilogy, a cowardly younger brother in Troy. Why, don't you think you have a clean-cut image?

"I don't really think about my image in terms of how I'm perceived. I try to live true to myself and not be swayed by the projections that people would like to put on me. Half the time I'm going, 'No, that's not me, that's not me, that's not me.'" He waves his hands, sweeping the false projections away. For the same reason, he says he refuses to read his own press. Later he concedes: "When people think of a really bad guy, they don't necessarily phone me first, but I'm not looking to change. What I'm trying to do is vary my work as an actor. The truth is that most actors have an essence, though they can shift around that. I don't know what my essence would be yet. I think I'm still young enough to say I'm not sure. But you sort of answered that question for me before, because you said I've got this clean-cut image." Okay, let's move on.

Bloom, 28, ceased being like everybody else when he played a 2,931-year-old elf called Legolas Greenleaf in The Lord of the Rings. He talks about how "incredibly fortunate" he was to get the part, how he went from being a lowly drama-school student to having his own live-action figure within a couple of years, and how that spawned other high-profile roles. Since 2003, Bloom has starred in eight films back to back — when he isn't filming one, he is promoting another.

In the past 18 months he has worked in Los Angeles, Morocco, Spain, Kentucky, Mexico, Malta, Australia and the Cayman Islands. In three weeks' time he's off again, this time to the Caribbean for four months to film the next two instalments of Pirates of the Caribbean, with Johnny Depp. Moreover, he has cultivated real clout. The average US box-office gross of each film he has starred in stands at $204m — the highest for any Hollywood actor, and about double that of, say, Tom Hanks or Tom Cruise. And with four more blockbusters in the pipeline — Kingdom of Heaven (just released), Elizabethtown, and two more Pirates — that ascendancy looks certain to continue.

Things weren't quite so superlative in the early days, when Bloom, known as Orli to his pals, was growing up in an affluent pocket of Canterbury, Kent. He attended the £9,000-a-year St Edmund's school, and was slightly chubby as a child, not very sporty. His mother, who named him after the 17th-century composer Orlando Gibbons, encouraged him and his older sister to do artistic, creative things.