by Shane Briant
Lovely.
I asked Tim about 'contracts, cars and stuff' over lunch, and he filled me in about a few things he'd learnt over the years.
"If you want the good things of life it's all got to be in the contract. Like the car – has to be a 'luxury' Merc. If you don't mention the luxury bit, they'll fob you off with some small cheap Mercedes. Not so good.
Same goes for trailers, hotels and class of air travel."
So, that was it. Bye-bye Mercedes. Never mind, it was an unforeseen luxury – didn't bother me in the least.
When I arrived back at the hotel that evening, and strolled down the corridor I saw that my room door was open, and two men were struggling with my bed. Curious, I asked them what they were up to. "Swapping your bed with Mister Dalton's."
Amazing.
I have a suspicion that this was a way Tim made damn sure everyone took him seriously. Me? I'm sure production people think I'm just too easy. When it comes to Tim, they take notice and make sure he's comfy.
I watched the film again a week ago to refresh old memories, and was stunned by my Froggy accent. Maybe it's a fact that practically all English actors sound like Inspector Clouseau when they affect a French accent. Maybe not Daniel Day-Lewis. But I know I did. However, I was lucky enough to have an excuse because Pierre the symbolist painter was in fact an English aristocrat masquerading as a Frog. Well, that's my excuse when people cringe. My only tip with accents is to get the shape of the mouth right first – if the shape's right, you'll find it really hard not to speak their way.
Dublin has changed quite a bit since I studied law there. Then, the economy was struggling, the Irish punt was down against the pound, the pubs were so smokey you could hang a ham or a haddock in any of them, and as I mentioned before the Republican pubs such as the famous 'Brazen Head' were a no-go zone for we English students.
Then for a while, Ireland became a financial haven for European money, and the cost of living skyrocketed. When I was last there the Aussie dollar didn't go very far. Now the wheel has come full circle and Ireland's economy is on the skids again, thanks to the world recession. Such a shame, the Irish people are again struggling. I hope things improve. In the meantime, as I write, the Aussie dollar is in great shape and I can afford to visit my favourite Irish pubs again – Toner's' in Baggot Street, 'Johnny Fox's' in the Wicklow Hills, and 'The Old Stand,' just off Dame Street. No better pubs in the world.
'The Flame is Love' was supposed to be the first of a series of
Barbara Cartland's filmed books, but somehow or other it proved to be the first and last. I can't really understand why, after all her books sold untold millions of copies. It wasn't as if we didn't stick rigidly to the formula of somewhat unbelievable heroes, heroines and wicked dastardly bad guys in an historical context – possibly we were too squeaky clean and proper. It also didn't help that the night it aired across America everyone was watching the seventh game of the world series. This was never factored in as an excuse. Ratings, that's all that counts.
I returned to Los Angeles for the television premiere of 'The Flame is Love,' to promote myself a bit, and to revisit all the friends I had made in the past. Barbara Cartland was kind enough to send me a telegram saying Pierre was just as she had imagined him; "You were marvelous," she very sweetly said. This concerned me at the time because maybe I'd come across in too saccharine a way.
Of course nowadays she might have sent me an email of congratulations, or even texted me? Now, even the Queen's telegram doesn't exist as such, you have to ask the Palace for a note of congratulation. Progress without much charm.
While I was in L.A., Ed Friendly was kind enough to take me to the famous Musso and Franks restaurant.
As Hollywood's oldest and most famous grillroom, it's steeped in history. F. Scott Fitzgerald, William Faulkner, Raymond Chandler and Ernest Hemingway were habitués, and often Orson Welles held court there. The story goes that Charlie Chaplin, Douglas Fairbanks and Rudolph Valentino raced along Hollywood Boulevard on horses, the loser having to foot the bill. It's a good story, regardless of its veracity.
While I was eating there and chatting to Ed, the loo door opened and Steve McQueen walked towards us. I was certain he'd pass us by, but he spotted Ed and stopped. Ed introduced us and I shook another of my idols by the hand. He was very friendly indeed, asking me what I was doing in L.A. and wishing me the best of luck in my career. Like Newman he treated everyone the same; rich, poor, famous, not so famous. As I write, I am constantly discovering that people I loved working with have since died. The fact is, it's easy to miss a news report, and the Oscar's Vale doesn't include nearly enough people. Consequently I just found out that the wonderful Michael O'Herlihy died thirteen years ago. Only 68. At least he died in Dublin.
'MURDER IS EASY,' AND OLIVIA DE HAVILLAND.
In 1981 came the CBS telemovie 'Murder is Easy,' which was shot in the English countryside just outside London. When the cast sheet was sent to me in Pimlico by the production company prior to the shoot, I was stunned to see I'd be working with legendary Olivia de Havilland.
Sadly, a very shabby snap of a legendary Olivia de Havilland. 'Murder is Easy.'
"I'm going to be working with Melanie!" I told Wendy. She was puzzled. "Melanie Griffiths?" she asked. "No! Melanie Hamilton – Gone with the Wind'," I replied.
If that wasn't enough, the cast included Helen Hayes, my former semi-nude screen girlfriend from 'The Sweeney' Lesley-Anne Down, (now much more of a star) Jonathon Pryce, one of my favourite English theatre actors, Freddie Jones whom I'd worked with on 'Shades of Greene,' and 'The Incredible Hulk,' Bill Bixby.
It's always good to shoot a film on location in England when the weather is good; and this was summertime. Claude Watham directed. The production turned out to be good Agatha Christie material.
I was chatting with Lesley-Anne on set one day when her then husband, Enrique Gabriel, arrived. Two giant Borzoi dogs were dragging him along. Leslie-Anne saw her husband and the dogs and her face lit up.
"My darlings!" she cried out loudly and jumped up to kiss both dogs. My kind of woman. Didn't kiss her husband – just the dogs. They were very kissable hounds.
In 'Murder is Easy' I played a rather dull drug-running doctor. And while you always try to make what you can of a dull role, in this case no 'silk purse' came to mind. So my only option was to colour the 'sow's ear.' Confronted with dull material, it's a good idea to try to find a facet of your character that'll make him more striking without detracting from the other characters – that would unbalance the piece. Sometimes I make things up, such as giving a merciless killer one speck of humanity, such as a love mice. No actor should feel he's trapped by the script. Make the character your own. The writer has done his work – now bring the character to life by giving him a history. Roland Joffe is the master of this technique.
Working with Olivia de Havilland was a dream come true – the high point of the shoot for me.
I well recall one scene we shot.
When we were sent to relax, she asked me, "Was I all right?"
I couldn't believe my ears – Olivia de Havilland was asking me if she'd done a good job!
I replied, "Miss de Havilland, you're asking me if you were all right?"
She looked puzzled. "We're all actors together, aren't we? Surely you have an opinion too?"
She was quite right. "You were perfect, Miss de Havilland," I replied.
She smiled and patted my arm with her hand.
'THE NAKED CIVIL SERVANT,' QUENTIN CRISP & JOHN
HURT.
In the spring of 1975, immediately following the theatre production of 'Paper Flowers,' I was lucky enough to be cast in a television play that will live forever; in part because of the writing of Quentin Crisp and Philip Mackie, in part because of Jack Gold's direction – one of England's finest—and in part because of the award-winning performance of John Hurt.
Award-winning John Hurt as Quentin Crisp
The telemovie was called '
The Naked Civil Servant,' and was the life story of Quentin Crisp, the English writer and raconteur who became an icon of homosexuals in the 1970s after publication of his memoir, 'The Naked Civil Servant.'
The cast wasn't brimming with famous actors, barring John. However, it was the most marvelous ensemble piece, and Jack Gold pulled us all together and squeezed out whatever talent we had.
"Can I trouble you for a light?" Norma.
The rumour at the time was that many people had advised John Hurt not to take the role, as he'd forever be branded a gay actor. Of course this was nonsense and John had no time for this train of thought and neither did his agent. He won the BAFTA Award for best actor that year for his perfect portrayal. Jack Gold was nominated for Best Director, and the production also won the Prix Italia for Best Drama.
I didn't have a major role – not many people did; as I said, it was an ensemble piece with a huge cast. When I read the script I knew I had to play Norma, the first gay streetwalker that Quentin ever met – the 'girl' that introduced him to the dark and dangerous, raunchy side of London.
I met Jack and I scored the role. I was in heaven.
During rehearsals, Jack was at pains to tell us 'girls' that we were to shed any reservations we might have about playing up the roles—he wanted 'huge performances.'
"Go for it!" he told us. "And when you think you're going too far,
go some more!" Well, I did just that, and loved very moment of those night shoots in London. We didn't dress in drag because in those days there weren't any cross dressers as such. The 'girls' would dress in an extremely feminine way but still wear men's clothes. It was the hair and make-up that singled them out as street girls.
I had the most magnificent blonde wig swept up around the side, sitting atop of which was a gorgeous broad-brimmed Trilby. A long, elegant, blue-grey coat with the lapel turned up and a duck blue long tasseled scarf completed my costume. Roger Lloyd Pack and Adrian Shergold played two of the other 'girls.' Roger is the son of Charles Lloyd Pack, who'd played 'The Professor' in 'Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell.' It was a riot to be out in London looking so incredibly sultry. During a dinner break one night an elderly man sidled up to me and said, "I say, can I interest you in a drink and a chat?" I was so amused; I couldn't help replying in the falsetto voice I was using as Norma. "Thanks, duckie. But I'm utterly washed out." I winked at him and walked back to my caravan.
The Black Cat Café
The male hookers' scenes were shot in two nights. It was hilarious. John Hurt set up a base camp at a delightful nearby hotel bar, where we would relax during takes and sample the wares. When I finally saw the film on television I was swept away by the brilliance of John's performance – it was deeply saddening, full of
wit and humour and for once depicted gay men as people worth speaking to.
Idle thoughts on success
MY old FRIEND JEREMY IRONS.
If you are lucky enough to land the television role of the decade in 'Brideshead Revisited,' you will most likely go from success to success.
Of course you have to make the right decisions. If Jeremy had decided to join the cast of 'Boxing Helena,' after having finished shooting 'Brideshead,' his career would have taken a sharp turn downwards. But he didn't. His next film was starring opposite Meryl Streep in 'The French Lieutenant's Woman.' To follow there was 'Betrayal,' written by Harold Pinter. How can one go wrong here? Roland Joffe's 'The Mission,' David Cronenberg's 'Dead Ringers,' and Barbet Schroeder's 'Reversal of Fortune' followed, a film that earned
sure to turn it into another break. It's a little like letting the winnings of a single number ride in roulette. If you are outstanding in one production, and come to the attention of everyone in the business, don't snatch at your next role. Be patient. Sadly, I have never had Louis Malle, Mendes or Tarantino in a power struggle to hire me. But I know what I'd have to do if they all wanted me.
For most actors, when one film finishes, they are back to 'resting' and that's boring, as well as a struggle to make ends meet. My advice is always to accept the best work that pays little, rather than the worst film that pays big bucks and ends up ruining your career. I have made more then my fair share of 'money-spinners' simply because I needed the money, so now I am hoisted by my own petard here. Yet had I been cast as 'Charles' in 'Brideshead Revisited,' who knows what might have happened? Which segues nicely into my next point.
Sometime in 1981, Adza called me and told me they were casting the principal roles in 'Brideshead Revisited.' Doreen Jones was in charge. I was really excited – this was a dream job. I went to a casting and met with Doreen and put down a test. At the time I thought I was up for Sebastian Flyte, the role played ultimately by Anthony Andrews, but curiously they saw me as a possible for Charles.
As the weeks passed I heard continuing fresh news from Adza. The casting was continuing and the list of actors was being narrowed down. Finally, Adza called me to let me know that there were now only three actors in the mix for Charles, and they'd let me know that day. I was thrilled, as well as mightily anxious that I might not land the role – I had no idea who the other two actors were at the time.
At six in the evening that day, Adza rang me to break the news – the role of Charles had gone to someone else. I was desperately disappointed. It was a crushing blow. Wendy did what she could to console me, finally reminding me that we were going out to dinner that night – to the house of Jeremy Irons, an old friend, and his gorgeous wife, Sinead Cusack. I'd met them both through Sinead's sister Sorcha, who I'd known well at Trinity – we'd been in a few plays together. So, with a heavy heart, I jumped into the car with Wendy, hugging a bottle of red, and we drove to Hampstead where Sinead and Jeremy had their house. When we arrived, I knocked on the door and it flew open. Jeremy was there, clutching a bottle of champagne."The most wonderful news, you two. I just landed the part of Charles in 'Brideshead.'" He told me delightedly. Wendy didn't even look at me. "Wonderful! Well done," she said. I caught my breath and said more or less the same thing.
I never told him that I was in the final mix. What was the point? It was a difficult evening for me emotionally – hopefully I didn't allow it to show.
I've often thought back to that moment when I saw Jeremy going from strength to strength, culminating in his Oscar win. Good for him – he beat me to 'Charles' fair and square, and went on to play exquisite parts, exquisitely well. He's a great talent. So if you don't land that role you've set your heart on, get over it and see what you can do instead. I did, and ended up in Australia having the time of my life. Sure, I never won an Oscar, but I've had a fantastic life and am still doing so.
Here's another thing. Jacki Weaver has been an Aussie film icon for decades. Films such as 'Picnic at Hanging Rock,' 'The Removalists,' and 'Caddie.' She started work in the late sixties, so she can't be much younger than sixty-something. And her role in 'Animal Kingdom' landed her an Oscar nomination! She waited patiently all her life for the second shoe to drop and completed some terrific work along the line – so never give up!
My move 'downunder.'
SUN, BEACHES, AND 'THE DON LANE SHOW.'
1981 had been a lean year, getting leaner by the second. So when I heard that Fox Columbia, the distributors of 'Chatterley' were taking Sylvia to Australia on a promotional tour, I asked if I could go too. They agreed, and I packed my bags. Wendy was delighted; she'd always hoped we'd end up in Oz. Fox Columbia very cleverly sent Sylvia and me on separate flights. The reason was that they had to send Sylvia first class. I just wanted to get there and do the network television talk shows, introduce myself to Australia and see if they wanted to employ me, so I flew economy.
At Kingsford Smith Airport in Sydney, I was met by the friendliest young man imaginable, Fox Columbia's public relations guy Bob Nicol. A limo was waiting and I was whisked off. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, the pacific was shimmering with diamond sparkles, and Bob's gay humour made me laugh all the way to the hotel – I was being treated
like a king and when you are, it's time to enjoy it.
That week I was taken to any number of publicity functions; there were radio spots, media interviews, magazine chats etc. When I had some time to myself, I took myself off to Bondi, swam and had a few schooners of Fosters.