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Look, can we talk about Peter O'Toole already? I feel like we've been avoiding this conversation far too long as it is. Let's get straight to it: he's an acting god. He certainly seems to spend a fair amount of time playing god, or at least playing egomaniacs, psychotic killers, paranoid schizophrenics, sex gods, acting legends, and war heroes with disturbed personas. (Except for that one movie with Audrey Hepburn, which is entertaining beyond what it has any right to be. The world didn't need another larceny flick, but it's still a better place for O'Toole and Hepburn screwing around being gorgeous and funny, and How to Steal a Million is a clever and well-executed larceny flick.)
The only downside to his having lived this long is that at age seventy-four, he is no longer the most smokingly hot man I have ever laid eyes on. Still, he was kind enough to do his best work when he was beautiful, most especially in Lawrence of Arabia--which incidentally is the best movie ever made, and for about a week after seeing it for the first time, I replaced my standard greeting of "Hey, it's that guy," with, "Hey, have you seen Lawrence of Arabia?" (Disappointingly, no one's gone for the obvious punchline, or even the really clever less obvious punchline.) I'm not in doubt about my heterosexuality, but if I were, Peter O'Toole would clear things up nicely.
(And if you haven't seen Lawrence of Arabia, you should. It's only the best movie ever made, featuring the best performance of one of the world's greatest actors, living or dead, as one of the most complex and interesting men of the 20th century, but I don't want to oversell it or anything.)
So, O'Toole movies--I'm working my way through the canon as fast as the interlibrary loan can provide it for me. Night of the Generals, I'm only part way through, and it is a freaky, freaky movie, totally a treat for Omar Sharif and O'Toole in the same room, and god, why are they so hot as fucking Nazi officers? O'Toole looks good in a uniform, but he's a lot sexier in his Nazi general coat than he was in the British officer's outfit from Lawrence of Arabia, and it is very distracting. He is like a black hole of charisma; all attention is pulled to him when he's in the room, and it's damned difficult to look at anything else. Good thing he's the star.
Amazingly, he's less scary (so far) as Tanz in Night of the Generals than he was as Jack in The Ruling Class. The Ruling Class is a sick, vicious, twisted, hellaciously funny and weird movie, with just a wisp of a sentimental grounding to turn the ending into a heartache. O'Toole is an English Earl who is also a paranoid schizophrenic; he spends most of the movie believing he's God (he has scary blond Jesus hair and wears a white suit, and talks about love) and the rest believing he's Jack the Ripper. It's hard to say which is freakier. Murderous insanity is terrifying, but the verve and unpredictability of his Christ persona is somehow as unsettling as it is funny. O'Toole equally strong in both aspects, and makes them coherently part of the same madness, no mean trick. He's the reason to watch the movie. Again, it's the good thing he's the star. The other performances in this movie are good, but what drives both the story and the satire is the way that different characters react to Jack's loud, colorful insanity--some with frustration, some with amusement, some with ignorance, all with opportunism--which requires O'Toole to pretty much be the center of every scene in which he talks, and a few in which he doesn't, but does chirp like a bird.
By the way, I would rather by far watch Peter O'Toole chirp like a bird while dressed like Jesus in a lounge suit than watch Nicole Kidman in anything.
Regarding How to Steal a Million. It's not important. It is fun. A lot of movies have been made like this, and there's nothing particularly that requires O'Toole to be there; the character type he plays in it has been played creditably by many a lesser actor. That said, it's O'Toole, and he's a delight to watch, and if the role could have been played by a lesser actor, that certainly didn't stop him from turning in a superior performance--not overacting, mind you; he's charmingly understated. And while for some reason, he's brunet here, he is nevertheless still beautiful, and rather cute with Audrey Hepburn.
The only downside to his having lived this long is that at age seventy-four, he is no longer the most smokingly hot man I have ever laid eyes on. Still, he was kind enough to do his best work when he was beautiful, most especially in Lawrence of Arabia--which incidentally is the best movie ever made, and for about a week after seeing it for the first time, I replaced my standard greeting of "Hey, it's that guy," with, "Hey, have you seen Lawrence of Arabia?" (Disappointingly, no one's gone for the obvious punchline, or even the really clever less obvious punchline.) I'm not in doubt about my heterosexuality, but if I were, Peter O'Toole would clear things up nicely.
(And if you haven't seen Lawrence of Arabia, you should. It's only the best movie ever made, featuring the best performance of one of the world's greatest actors, living or dead, as one of the most complex and interesting men of the 20th century, but I don't want to oversell it or anything.)
So, O'Toole movies--I'm working my way through the canon as fast as the interlibrary loan can provide it for me. Night of the Generals, I'm only part way through, and it is a freaky, freaky movie, totally a treat for Omar Sharif and O'Toole in the same room, and god, why are they so hot as fucking Nazi officers? O'Toole looks good in a uniform, but he's a lot sexier in his Nazi general coat than he was in the British officer's outfit from Lawrence of Arabia, and it is very distracting. He is like a black hole of charisma; all attention is pulled to him when he's in the room, and it's damned difficult to look at anything else. Good thing he's the star.
Amazingly, he's less scary (so far) as Tanz in Night of the Generals than he was as Jack in The Ruling Class. The Ruling Class is a sick, vicious, twisted, hellaciously funny and weird movie, with just a wisp of a sentimental grounding to turn the ending into a heartache. O'Toole is an English Earl who is also a paranoid schizophrenic; he spends most of the movie believing he's God (he has scary blond Jesus hair and wears a white suit, and talks about love) and the rest believing he's Jack the Ripper. It's hard to say which is freakier. Murderous insanity is terrifying, but the verve and unpredictability of his Christ persona is somehow as unsettling as it is funny. O'Toole equally strong in both aspects, and makes them coherently part of the same madness, no mean trick. He's the reason to watch the movie. Again, it's the good thing he's the star. The other performances in this movie are good, but what drives both the story and the satire is the way that different characters react to Jack's loud, colorful insanity--some with frustration, some with amusement, some with ignorance, all with opportunism--which requires O'Toole to pretty much be the center of every scene in which he talks, and a few in which he doesn't, but does chirp like a bird.
By the way, I would rather by far watch Peter O'Toole chirp like a bird while dressed like Jesus in a lounge suit than watch Nicole Kidman in anything.
Regarding How to Steal a Million. It's not important. It is fun. A lot of movies have been made like this, and there's nothing particularly that requires O'Toole to be there; the character type he plays in it has been played creditably by many a lesser actor. That said, it's O'Toole, and he's a delight to watch, and if the role could have been played by a lesser actor, that certainly didn't stop him from turning in a superior performance--not overacting, mind you; he's charmingly understated. And while for some reason, he's brunet here, he is nevertheless still beautiful, and rather cute with Audrey Hepburn.
