The Richard Burton Diaries

by Richard Burton

  Rome is now, on certain windless days as smog-ridden as any of the really big cities. That deadly miasma is slowly creeping all over this earth. Will no govt. act to stop this immense planetary asphyxiation. Ah well it won't all be the same in a hundred years. Man's inhumanity to himself is stupefying.

  The British elections take place on the 31st.17 It is, to me, a fascinating thing to watch. The mud slinging and pettish accusations of both sides is almost too childish to be believed but yet I am compelled to read it. The unction of the Tory Press, the immense vulgarity of the Mirror, the blindness of them both, will not be believed an age from now if, as I mentioned above, there is an age from now.18 Wilson will win it appears from Polls.19

  Georgie our Laza Apso is very ill.20 Poor old boy.

  Wednesday 23rd E. had two fittings today for her dress to be worn to the Ballet tomorrow night. What am I doing going to a ballet again? This is the second time in six months. Rudolph Nureyev notwithstanding.21

  We both had medical examinations for Insurance. It appears to be alright. The doctor sweated a lot and looked as if he could do with a check-up.

  We dined at home and E. had her second fitting after dinner. I tried to read Barzini's The Italians but found it intolerably prolix and self congratulatory.22 I'll try it again and will make another desperate attempt to like The Italians and the Italians.

  Thursday 24th We went to the Opera to see Rudi N dance, and dance he did. How he makes the others look like carthorses, even a brilliant fellow like Bruhn the Dane.23 Rudi did an extract from Sylphides.24

  The paparazzi behaved like lunatics, getting inside the theatre and taking snaps even during the performance. The management and the police seem equally helpless. Afterwards we went to the Little Bar in the Via Sistina for a quick drink.25 Met an actor there with Ron Berkeley and his girl Vicky called Coffin!26 [...]

  Friday 25th The boys arrived from La Suisse.27 Liza E and I had lunch at Ostia on the edge of the sea.28 An enormous and terrible lady journalist appeared and asked us questions. I sent her off in a burst of fury.

  I felt dreadful all day long – melancholy and distant – and so did E. Georgie died. He must have caught something from some alien dog in the pound he was at. Now E'en so is ill.29 Pray God she's alright. I love that old Chinese lady.

  We dined early with the children and went to bed quite early too. I'm getting nervous about the film and E firmly believes she can't learn her lines. [...]

  Saturday 26th I woke to my astonishment at 11.00. How late. I would like to awake, until my death, about 6 to 7 in the morning but, life and nerves being what they are, one is lucky to be up and shouting at 4 in the afternoon. There is a kind of lethargy, induced only by vulgarity, which prompts late rising. I remember the days when to sleep more than 5 hours a day was considered self-indulgence. And I am now self-indulgent. It must be booze and age.

  The children were about for lunch. They giggled a lot and found great pleasure in being idiotic. They pretended powerful interest in going to the studio. We procured for them ham and cheese sandwiches and sent Maria home. That left us with Michael and Christopher and Liza. We then went to see a film called The Silencers starring Dean Martin.30 It was of an obviousness so anticipatory as to take one's breath away. [...] I fell asleep. And the children noticed to my shame.

  Wales, I understand, beat France in Rugby and a lot of difference that is going to make to the world.31

  I also saw a vision of myself on the screen. I was gay stupid and fat. So, as they say, I'm fat, I'm gay I'm stupid and I'm fat and that, as they say, is fat.

  I worry enormously about the fact that we have no money. I worry that I will not be able to look after my wife and my children after I'm dead – nobody else will – and that worries me more than the silliness of Good Gracious Me!32

  Anyway we went to a restaurant over a cow-shed and the food was good. And the children were dying of cold and boredom. And so was I. [...]

  Sunday 27th and Monday 28th Took E and the children to the beach on Sunday afternoon in the Toronado. We had some fun, for the kids, in beating most other cars.

  We then had a ‘draw’ for the Grand National, run yesterday, and we drew 5 or 6 horses each. Maria won with outsider (50–1) Anglo.33 [...]

  Monday lunch with Jack Cardiff and Haggiag.34 Cardiff seems half-diffident half-cocky – continually mentioning Sons and Lovers – presumably his most successful film. I think he was nominated for an Oscar. Or perhaps the film was.35 Anyway he knows a rather promising sounding process owned by Pinewood.36 [...]

  Went to studio and had my hair permed. Ghastly business. Home, supper with the boys, and early bed.

  I have to test again tomorrow. Oh happy Day.

  We had beaten France. Skin of teeth. 9–8.

  Tuesday 29th I went to the studio and made-up and dressed and tested again. E came with me. About 2.30 we went to lunch at the tiny village 10 minutes away – the place with cows called I Streghi or some such name.37 (The cows are on the right of the restaurant looking at it – not in the restaurant.) The entire village is owned by one of the Borghese family.38

  Afterwards we had brandy with the proprietor. And then went quietly drinking down the afternoon and home and bed. E very worried about that old internal bleeding that's started up again.

  Wednesday 30th At last I began to learn the script. What a dilatory actor I am. How to succeed without really trying.

  Some agonizing on the part of Franco Z about my initial costume. I hope he's not going to be a bore when we start to work. They are changing or rather adapting the present costume. I wish I had Larry's and John's – indeed most actors’ love of dressing up and all that goes with it – the fittings, the finicky fussing etc. and always the pouffs.39 I went to the Studio and played a sort of buffer or mediator between Franco, who is not entirely masculine it seems, and Irene who is not entirely feminine, and so I strode in Limbo for a quarter of an hour. And then came home to old fatty who stayed in bed all day to watch, take care of, that bleeding mentioned above. The election takes place in Britain tomorrow. I've read the political columns until I'm sick of ‘em. Shan't read the British ones until the next election. Perhaps not even then.

  Thursday 31st [...] Today I received a letter from Franco saying that he felt better able to write his thoughts than speak them as his English is not too reliable. A very good excuse for not facing somebody with something unpleasant. Wasn't it Winston Churchill who always fired his underlings by letter? Who would have thought the Old Man to have had so much milk in him.40 Anyway, the letter said that he had designed and had had made a new first costume for me and would I come in at 4.00 to try it. I went and of course waited twenty minutes. At first I was dismayed by its weight and size but having tried it on felt better at once. I tested it immediately and will see the result tomorrow at about 11 o'clock. It had better be good. Irene Sharaff is obviously upset and since I find her bone-lazy, inflexible faintly condescending to most people, an intellectual (though she is not overblessed in that department) snob and a crashing bore my sympathy is tempered with discretion. Old Snapshot however adores her and I must use tact and so on to keep her.41 Lizabet also thinks her talented but I tend to think, as always, that, apart from the odd one here or there, dress designers are like photographers – mere copiers. Take enough snaps, copy enough paintings and some of ‘em are bound to be alright.

  We learned lines, read books, learned a little Italian (me) in the bedroom suite, had a dinner, both of us ravenous, of roast chicken, potatoes, salad, cheese, and fruit all washed down, in my case with water – I don't fancy drink at the moment – in Snapshot's case with a Vin Rosé. [...]

  APRIL

  Friday 1st What a day! I went in at about 11.30 to see the test of the new costume. It was alright – at least it was better than the other. I then had it refitted and will try it on again tomorrow, Saturday.

  Since the atmosphere is now electric I decided to try and do something about it so I took Irene home for lunch and told
Zeffirelli I would see him at 6.00. He agreed. The lunch was frightening. Irene really hates the Italian and described my costume as 1930 Opera. She was not, she said, prepared to be a sketch artist for FZ.42 I don't know what else she is supposed to be. Shumdit says she didn't mean it that way.43 Finally, at lunch, I was so exasperated by the repetitious complaining that I left the table snarling ‘You'll excuse me, I'm in a bad mood.’ Shumdit said with her usual immense tact, ‘Really, Richard?’ I snarled again something witty like ‘Shut your mouth’ and went tramping furiously over our few acres with E'en So.

  When I returned I kissed Shumdit better and then began to attack again because I thought she'd gossiped with the Princess something-or-other who is designing her frock for Mike Todd Junior's TV show about his father.44 Then we kissed it all better again.

  And so to the studio. I told Z that things must be altered, that he shouldn't make costumes behind our backs. He said he had to take the law into his own hands as Irene was so inflexible and that his respect for her had turned into disrespect. He described her costume as 1930 touring version of Shrew in America. I said, as far as I was concerned, he could do all the bloody costumes but E Shumdit was adamant re Irene's clothes and that if she turned cold on him that that would be the end of her performance. If there were any more hold-ups I said due to costume problems somebody, I said straight in his eyes, would have to go. We had invested $2,000,000 in this venture and I didn't want another Cleopatra.

  McWhorter, who was present throughout, asked if he had any other costumes in preparation. Z. said No! No! but I knew he was lying. I suggested that he stop being devious and meet head-on with Irene and scream at her if necessary so that she could scream back. But stop, I begged, being so bloody Machiavellian. He said he would, but only after he'd seen E. Shumdit. So we are to have lunch with him tomorrow. Immediately I was in the car on the way home I realized that Mario had mentioned taking the children to the Spanish Steps to see the flowers and so will cancel the lunch tomorrow when I get up.45

  I was so fed up I had three glasses of wine and two large brandies in about 1/2 hour, ate my pasta, and went to bed. We shouted at each other a bit but nothing serious.

  Labour won the election easily. Don't know the final count but it's likely to be about a 100 majority. Anyway they're in to stay.

  Saturday 2nd And we drove to Rome to the Spanish Steps which wasn't a very good idea as the floral decorations have only just begun; they will obviously be prettier by next weekend. We lunched at a very good restaurant called ‘Chianti’.46 I had an enormous and very good rare T. Bone Steak. E had the speciality chicken. We all (the children were with us) had ravioli to start. Delicious. Maria seemed still asleep at lunch – she had slept all the way in in the car. She suffers, poor dab, from permanent nasal and bronchial irritations.

  E + I went to see FZ at the studio. A lot of talk went on but I can't remember much about it. By that time I was sloshed.

  We then went to Garden City for Pizza and then home when we talked with Mario about that frightful weekend at Porto Santa Stefano 4 years ago.47

  It depressed me profoundly and I stared a lot and slept at last.

  Sunday 3rd Woke late again at 10.30 largely I suppose because we both woke at 1.30 – 2.00 in the morning and talked until 5–6.

  We went for birthday lunch to Richard Hanley's and J. Lee and very nice it was [...] I met Chas Beal the negro pianist.48 Aaron was there as well as M. Todd Junior, Irene Sharaff, Mai-Mai, MacWhorter and wife, Agnes and Frank Flanagan, Frank LaRue, Ron Berkeley.49 [...]

  We had an early dinner at L'Escargot and went home.50 Little Liza fell down the stairs, little clown and bruised her face quite badly. She is likely to have a couple of splendid black eyes tomorrow. I asked her if she cried. She said Yes. I could eat her.

  Very edgy and cantankerous. No doubt the prospect of working tomorrow is the reason. Always the same before I start a job.

  Monday 4th My first day on the film. I was as nervous as a horse at the thought of riding one around a roaring fire with extras all over the place. However I did it reasonably competently.

  I was at the studio at 7.30 having driven myself in the Toronado (picked up by the Police Car overtaking a lorry over the continuous white line but fortunately I was being followed by our own policeman who arranged everything satisfactorily and amiably) and found that I was 11/2 hours too early. My call was for 9.00. I rehearsed with Cyril Cusack and Victor Spinetti but in fact did not appear before the cameras until about 3.30.51

  E. arrived for lunch with M. Todd. Later we were joined by Johnny Sullivan and new puppy Pekinese white as snow and adorable who is named by us Oh Fie. He is to be, we hope E'en So's husband.

  I had a remarkable sex and religion conversation with Cyril who is vastly tempted by some Roman woman. He is, I think, and he thinks so too, immature sexually. He does not have my wide experience of rabid wild oats. I told him that I couldn't, but then I am impervious to that kind of temptation since I fell in love with Cantank.52

  I became very drunk later and shouted a lot. At E. I don't know what about. Just plain sloshed.

  Tuesday 5th Was at work again today, this time at the proper hour. We continued with the scene. FZ sprang some more new lines on us. He mustn't do that. It's very throwing. We got through. E. arrived for lunch. Aaron was there, J. Sullivan, then Mia Farrow and Mike Nichols arrived from NY.53 That M. Nichols really gets the girls. I wish Farrow would put on 15lbs and grow her hair.

  I did one shot after lunch with Cyril and Victor Spinetti and then showered and waited around to do my off-stage lines. I wasn't needed but said I'd be there tomorrow for that purpose. If I appear at all it will be late in the day I imagine. E. is doing her show for M. Todd tomorrow. [...]

  I read the Capote–Tynan thing in the Observer.54 [...] I think Capote was righter than Tynan though I wish it hadn't been so scurrilously written. ‘morals of a baboon’ ‘this faded hipster’ etc. I have yet to see Tynan's reply to Capote's reply to Tynan.55

  We were in bed by 10.00 I think. I was stiff from the horse and irritable as an old man and tired.

  Wednesday 6th I went in on Wed by 9.00 and did my off stage lines. Great trouble with the poor dog and the horse. Latter went slightly crazy at one moment and kicked Cyril in the belly. However Cyril (Cusack) was so near the horse that it couldn't really get any purchase. Cyril however will be bruised tomorrow. E who was supposed to TV for M. Todd very ill from that bloody bleeding. We have sent for a doctor from London. I went to bed in a huge depression and nightmares of her dying.

  Thursday 7th Took the boys with me to work and they stayed all day. We worked steadily all day long [...] M. Nichols and M. Farrow were with E when I came home. Doubtful now if we'll be able to go to Venice this weekend. E feels better and the bleeding has stopped. [...]

  Friday 8th [...] Was called to be ready at 10.00 and was but didn't appear before the cameras until about 11.00. Spinetti said at that time. ‘I'd love a glass of cold champagne.’ I said ‘Bob! Champagne please.’ And we had – Cyril, Victor, Bob and myself – champagne. Dom Perignon.

  The children arrived for lunch Michael wearing an ear-ring as a nose-ring. [...] In the afternoon I was interviewed by the Daily Mail man called Barry Norman.56 I talked too much but it's so tedious to guard one's tongue for four hours.

  We had lamb stew for supper and later I told Maria the story of her life. She was very impressed.

  E is better. Hooray. She has to have a curetage(?).57 Diolch iddo byth am gofio llwch y llawr.58

  Since we were not able to go to Venice I have, to E's disgust, agreed to work tomorrow.

  E has blood pressure of 90 – very low apparently – from loss of blood.

  Saturday 9th [...] I worked with Cyril and Victor Spinetti. Between shots I saw the rushes.59 They looked very good. However, disturbingly, we are falling behind schedule. I asked MacWhorter why, he said that Franco was slow. He apparently turns up for work only on the stroke of 9am which means he hasn't checked the se
t etc. FZ rather lazy I suspect in an energetic way. Does nothing but with great show. I'll give him a couple more days and then I'll have to talk to him. Bloody nuisance.

  After work (we were lunchless as we worked straight through) which finished at 3pm I had my usual shower and shampoo and then had drinks with M. Hordern, Alan Webb, Cyril C. and Victor Spin.60 What a boiling ‘of battered’ egos in one room, except perhaps for Webb – except that he too must regret the lost stardom of his earlier years. Stories were vied for. Of course I'm not the least offender in that direction though I enjoy immensely a well told, if reasonably believable, theatrical yarn. And there are lots.

  At dinner we talked with the children. We talked of the immensity of space. I said that doubtless by their (the children) middle age trips to the moon might be quite common. Maria said, ‘Don't go to the moon tomorrow Richard, it's Easter Sunday.’ I said I wouldn't bother in that case.

  We went to bed quite early though I tried to stay awake reading. E sluggish from those doctor pill. I'll be glad when she doesn't have to take them anymore.

  Sunday 10th [...] A lovely day sharp and breezy with sun and clouds – they fought all day. Eggs were hidden in the garden by the boys and Gaston for the two girls to find. Suitable finagling went on so that they both ended up roughly equal.61 Then Gaston hid eggs in the front garden for the boys to find. Same thing. A little finagling again and some cheating. There were quite a lot of presents. Easter is getting more and more like Xmas. We stayed within the grounds all day. I went for two brisk walks with the boys and Liza. [...]

  I read the Sunday papers and learned some lines. I'm not far from the end now. In about two weeks I should be home.

  We dined on a pasta (rigatoni) in the hope that the cook could make, at least, an Italian dish. It wasn't bad and I was hungry so that helped. But she really is an indifferent cook. She used to work for De Sica so we know what he feels about food.