Many have bemoaned the loss of another great actor from the days when acting meant something. Those days of yore when men were painted like cheap twopenny whores but could act like they weren’t just doing it for the money.
So farewell, then Peter O’Toole. Here is a memoriam I think you’d appreciate…
RIP. Loved him on that camel. But it would have looked better on me.
I don’t think I really want to know what you mean by that.
So glad that one’s still out there! Classic.
RIP the eponymous O’Toole.
Saw him at the theatre Royal Bath doing Jeffrey Bernard is Unwell, yonks ago. A role he could have done in his sleep, with or without a couple of bottles of Vodka. And Dammit Leggy! I almost used that clip contemplating doing an RIP for him over on Counting Cats, but you’ve already bloody done it now. Great minds? or is it cos we is Welsh?
All the great Drinky/Smokers gone now… Burton, Harris, Reid… Now O’Toole. The best actors of their or any other generation, and not an Oscar between them. I’d take that as a badge of Honour in itself.
What a louche, odd couple. And so much to be gleaned from inferences in that sketch! Anyway, I really enjoyed his acting and toast him now…with a fittingly generous Bowmore,
@RAB – vale Cook, too.
I shall be watching JBIU tonight. If you do not have it, LI, please drop me a line.
Ollie Reed was a bullying, foul-mouthed, woman-beating souse. He had bad points as well. But it’s to O’Toole I raise a glass now.
Twenty… I used to work in the Crown Court in Bristol, and we had a defendant who was probably our all time favorite defendant (he appeared several times) He is also known as the Flying Vet, and piss artist supreme. We had him up for burglary once. He had a long running feud with a Somerset Police Sargeant and was accused of burgling the Taunton Police station in an attempt to get back evidence against him on another matter. Another time he was flying into some little Somerset airfield and was so pissed he got on the radio and demanded the Tower bring him a shotgun to shoot all the rabbits he was encountering on landing. He and his wife (who is an absolute stunner) got married while doing a free fall parachute jump. The guy was something else! And a bloody good vet too.
Anyway he decided to retire to Jersey after all his altercations in the West Country. He was in a fairly posh hotel with a sea view one day having a drink or five, when Ollie Reed, who was on location there came crashing through a plate glass window and landed next to him. Ollie had been having a slight difference of opinion with some of the locals you see. Ollie was in a bad way so Maurice whipped out his vet bag and sewed him up. They became firm friends from then on. Google him, he exists I promise…
And back to O’Toole… A lady I worked with in the Crown Court had had a previous job of Minder for him back in 1973 when he came to do a season at the Bristol Old Vic. Basically her job was to feed him and make sure that he got to the Theatre on time at least relatively sober for the evening’s performance. One morning she entered his rented flat around 10am to find Keith Moon, Viv Stanshall, and Peter Sellars pointing to all points of the compass completely comatose, O’Toole in the bedroom with a floosy, also comatose. She didn’t bat an eyelid, cooked them all a massive fry up and delivered O’Toole to the theatre on time that evening. Those were the days!
RAB – the Flying Vet is well-known in recreational flying circles. He allegedly busted controlled airspace whilst singing with an open mike, and was found to be over the limit when he landed. He flew his wee Piper Cub all the way to Australia. He was arrested for landing near Dubya’s ranch.