Laurence Olivier.
I read a biography of Laurence Olivier at one time, and the writer opined that he was the greatest actor in the world for one reason, and one reason alone; because he wanted to be.
Now there is something to that.
Not too long ago I wrote a post about Mark Rylance whom it was considered was the current (then) best actor in the world; same reason! He wanted to be - or people wanted him to be - or whatever floated their boat or, to be more precise, filled their theatres.
There was something else I read about Olivier and it opened (not opined this time) by saying 'he was no intellectual' – I mean how could he be, he left school at 15? Okay he went to drama school but so did I; and left school at 15.
Even though Olivier may have been considered to be the best actor in the world, at one time, according to the great man himself, he had to do about 30 or 40 takes in a film, with William Wyler, and when he got frustrated, he said to Wyler “Willie; I did it this way, I've done it that way. I've done it faster and slower - what do you want me to do?”
And Wyler said “I want you to do it better!”
Best actor in the world?
The thing is – and it might have been whilst getting the above direction – he stamped his character on Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights – Samuel Goldwyn called it Withering Heights, according to Olivier.
In fact the anecdotes above are from Olivier himself.
The thing about Heathcliff is that he was from the back streets of Liverpool – a bit of rough – and he fell for the lady of the house, the posh girl and Olivier played him with a posh English accent. Today he would be played by someone from Liverpool.
There are people – actors – here who still worship him; of course there are others who don't like him at all, but he had the two or three things it calls for to be a star – he was ambitious, talented and not very clever.
I think the latter is very important because, according to the great playwright Brien Friel, to be a star to have to have huge huge ambition, a talent that is sensational and unique (there's only one Sir Laurence) and no brain.
And when you think about it, it has a lot of truth.
I know – and I am bound to know – a lot of actors. A lot of them are friends but none of my friends are huge stars – I have a very famous cousin, whom I have never met and when I think about him he may be as thick as two short planks too, for all I know; I don't know, which is why I won't name him, but Friel's view is that brains get in the way.
Maybe they do and maybe they don't!
If you wanted to be a movie star, you are good looking and you think you have what it takes, what kind of a reaction would you get if you took the idea to the bank?
What kind of business plan would you present to them and if they fell for it, what advice would these very clever people give you?
Imagine, for one wonderful moment, going on to the TV show Dragon's Den.
The people on Dragon's Den (they changed the title in America to Shark's Tank.) – the so called Dragons – are the most ambitious kind of people there are, but would you really want to have a drink with them?
They'd be talking about the business plan, the yield, the profit, the bottom line – I have been in the company of such people and I have seen the attitude and the way their face changes if you give them a good idea.
I was on a train once and standing next to me was a businessman with the suit, the brief case, the Financial Times, the whole nine yards, and he complained about the train.
It was British Rail then and he said they had no idea (BR that was – look at it now) how to run it.
And I said “why don't they put advertisements at the back of the seats” and a bulb went off in his head; I could see it.
“Advertise!” he said.
His name?
I have no idea who he was! But that bulb!!
As I was saying I know loads of actors and I have known briefly well known ones on the way up: pains in the arse, stars up there: pains in the arse and stars who were stars here and when I met them in Hollywood they were nice people again; they were lost, they didn't know where to go, where to network (arse hole creep) but when I pointed them in the right direction they became pains in the arse again.
Not being able to look you in the eye in case an important casting director or director came into the room, so they could talk to them and you know it's a sight to see.
What happens is, they sidle up to their prey with a big smile on their face and start a little chat; after about three minutes or so another person will come up and take the head honcho away - I'm sure they are hired to do this – leaving the networker marooned in the middle of the floor.
But you will see others, other networkers, dappled throughout the room, waiting to pounce like hyenas on the savanna – in fact looking like hyenas with their teeth, ready to smile, and their eyes widening and scrunching so as to show them off at their best, waiting for their victim to be alone.
I think the reason I don't know the big big stars intimately is that they don't seem to have many friends; on the way up they twitch and walk around, can't sit down for long, they worry that they'll miss a phone call or a casting and they are no company at all and in any case, as in Hollywood, they drop you and forget you as soon as you've shown them the way.
They pretend to forget you as they know that you know what kind of a prat they really are.
I met quite a few stars in Hollywood and some of them were nice – George Clooney is charming and quite well informed – so it doesn't happen to everybody.
