1992 - Winter
Another Christmas. . . Of the parties that I attended the most enjoyable was a birthday celebration for the long-time companion of a photographer who once made a videotape of a conversation between me and Lord Montagu. In a time outworn, his lordship was mixed up in one of those scandals that the English public likes best. . .The photographer says that the videotape of my talk with his lordship can never be shown even to a limited public while either of us is alive because it contains some 'heavy stuff'. I have no recollection of anything that we said but I accept my host's judgement.
Many weeks ago I went to a recording studio to speak some lines from Romeo and Juliet for a movie of that name. Now the hour has arrived when this film, which is acted entirely by Mr John Hurt and a bunch of cats, has been shown at the New School on Twelfth Street to the students of Professor Brown. Whether this picture will ever be shown to real people in a real cinema I have no idea, but a lot of publicity is being accumulated, presumably in the hope that it will. I have become involved in all this activity. . . I assume that this is because I conveniently live in Manhattan and adore publicity - even other people's.
This week my agent said I must go to Philadelphia in spite of the terrible things W.C.Fields said about that entirely inoffensive city. She explained that I was to receive more than is usually paid to extras in movies, so I went. . . Everyone was extremely kind to me, finding a chair for me to sit on during breaks, but the experience was absolute hell. . . The picture will be called Philadelphia and is being directed by Mr Jonathan Demme, a charming man who visited all his cast in their trailers to thank them for appearing in his movie.
On Saturday morning I was interviewed by the BBC. If the interest in my childhood taken by The Times was not enough proof that the walls of British respectability have been breached, let this incident be added. The BBC used to be called 'Auntie' by those who worked there - a snide reference to its posture of perpetual avoidance of anything shocking.
I have now seen Orlando. It is, as I guessed, unabashed festival material and can never be shown to real people. . . For me the most exciting moment at the screening came at the end when the new Mrs Sting, who was in the audience, introduced herself to me.
Many weeks ago I went to a recording studio to speak some lines from Romeo and Juliet for a movie of that name. Now the hour has arrived when this film, which is acted entirely by Mr John Hurt and a bunch of cats, has been shown at the New School on Twelfth Street to the students of Professor Brown. Whether this picture will ever be shown to real people in a real cinema I have no idea, but a lot of publicity is being accumulated, presumably in the hope that it will. I have become involved in all this activity. . . I assume that this is because I conveniently live in Manhattan and adore publicity - even other people's.
This week my agent said I must go to Philadelphia in spite of the terrible things W.C.Fields said about that entirely inoffensive city. She explained that I was to receive more than is usually paid to extras in movies, so I went. . . Everyone was extremely kind to me, finding a chair for me to sit on during breaks, but the experience was absolute hell. . . The picture will be called Philadelphia and is being directed by Mr Jonathan Demme, a charming man who visited all his cast in their trailers to thank them for appearing in his movie.
On Saturday morning I was interviewed by the BBC. If the interest in my childhood taken by The Times was not enough proof that the walls of British respectability have been breached, let this incident be added. The BBC used to be called 'Auntie' by those who worked there - a snide reference to its posture of perpetual avoidance of anything shocking.
I have now seen Orlando. It is, as I guessed, unabashed festival material and can never be shown to real people. . . For me the most exciting moment at the screening came at the end when the new Mrs Sting, who was in the audience, introduced herself to me.