Monday, December 23, 2013

Remembering Peter O'Toole, Part III: Elder Statesman

Recognition at last
Parts One and Two

The '90s found Peter O'Toole working apace. He played the snide secretary to John Goodman's King Ralph (1991), chased fairies as Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in Fairy Tale: A True Story (1997) and battled demonic worms in Phantoms (1998). He continued dabbling in television, being one of about 100 stars in the 1996 Gulliver's Travels miniseries, and adapted his stage triumph Jeffrey Bernard is Unwell. O'Toole always gave value for money, even when the roles were forgettable.

O'Toole established himself as a lovable raconteur. His two-volume memoir, Loitering With Intent, was warmly received. Through the '90s and early 2000s he gave several thoughtful interviews with Charlie Rose, expounding on his life and career. He also became familiar on the late night talk show circuit, where his eccentricity and ever-so-slightly tipsy demeanor dimly recalled the hellraiser of decades past. Who can forget his 1995 entrance on David Letterman atop a beer-drinking camel?


O'Toole never patched things up with Sian Phillips - in fact, the two reportedly never spoke after their divorce - and his relationship with girlfriend Karen Brown (producing a son, Lorcan) dissolved in similar acrimony. But O'Toole remained close to his children; daughter Kate, who followed Peter into acting, called O'Toole "a great dad and the best friend I ever had."

In 2003, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences offered O'Toole a Lifetime Achievement Award. O'Toole, a seven-time nominee, was initially disinclined to accept, saying that he'd "like to win the lovely bugger outright" after so many failures. But his children persuaded him to do so would be ungraciously. O'Toole reconsidered, giving a gracious acceptance speech to the body that finally saw fit to honor him.

O'Toole's 0-8 record as a nominee has drawn much comment. In 1962 he lost to Gregory Peck in To Kill a Mockingbird. No shame in this: a newcomer against an established star in an iconic role. In Becket, he split the vote with Richard Burton, allowing Rex Harrison to win for My Fair Lady. Less excusably, O'Toole's losses for The Lion in Winter (to Cliff Robertson in Charley) and Goodbye Mr. Chips (to John Wayne for True Grit) come down to Hollywood's practice of awarding actors "make-up" Oscars for unrecognized past performances.

Later turns were bested by Marlon Brando in The Godfather, Robert De Niro in Raging Bull and Ben Kingsley in Gandhi - heavyweights in arguably their best roles. Besides the competition, consider the films. The Ruling Class and The Stunt Man are off-the-wall cult flicks - it's surprising O'Toole even earned nominations. By contrast, My Favorite Year was a light-hearted comedy, a genre the Academy typically scorns. A mixture of studio politics and bad luck prevented O'Toole's success.


Competitive Oscar or no, O'Toole plugged gamely along. Most of his pictures were undistinguished, like the insipid Troy (2004) and forgettable Stardust (2007). Few except critics saw his amiable performance in 2005's Lassie. In 2006 he reteamed with Omar Sharif in One Night With the King, in which he played the Prophet Samuel - for about 30 seconds. Television gave him meatier roles in Augustus and Casanova.

O'Toole earned his last Oscar nomination for Venus (2006), playing an aged actor obsessed with Jodie Whittaker's callow teenager. Venus earned good reviews, yet I find it dry and slightly perverse - though O'Toole gives provides enough charm to justify watching. "It is not easy to define that special, paradoxical glamor Mr. O’Toole wears like a well-worn, perfectly tailored jacket," wrote A.O. Scott, "but whatever it is, he still has it." Many observers considered O'Toole the sentimental favorite that year, but Forrest Whittaker won for The Last King of Scotland instead.

On another plane, there's Pixar's Ratatouille (2007). O'Toole voices the vulture-like Anton Ego, a snobbish food critic brought down to earth by a simple stew prepared by a rat. He delivers a beautiful monologue contemplating the place of criticism and its need to champion the original, the brave, the unexpected rather than mere snark (Groggy, take note). Many felt O'Toole deserved an Oscar nomination; if there was ever an argument for the Academy awarding voice actors, Anton Ego is it.


In 2008 O'Toole landed a plum role on Showtime's The Tudors, playing Pope Paul III. Larded with sex, violence and historical absurdity, but buttressed by (mostly) good acting and impressive pageantry, Michael Hirst's Henrican soap opera is a textbook guilty pleasure. But there's no guilt enjoying O'Toole's gleefully wicked turn as a Holy Mob boss. As a spidery hypocrite, winkingly aware of his own treachery, Paul makes a mark with little screen time.

O'Toole closed out the decade with Dean Spanley (2009). Based on Lord Dunsany's 1939 novel, it's the whimsical tale of a bored Edwardian Englishman (Jeremy Northam) who becomes enchanted by an eccentric priest (Sam Neill) who envisions his past life as a dog. O'Toole plays Northam's father, eccentric and emotionally constipated, unable to show affection towards. Yet his visits with the priest reawaken O'Toole's dormant emotions, especially towards his older son, lost in the Boer War. O'Toole handles this development with beautiful subtlety, leading to a heartrending denouement.

In 2012 O'Toole retired from acting, shortly after completing work on Katherine of Alexandria. "The heart for it has gone out of me: it won’t come back," he informed fans. "It’s my belief that one should decide for oneself when it is time to end one’s stay." Having suffered a long illness, O'Toole finally met his sad, though not entirely unexpected end last Saturday.
 
Lions in winter: O'Toole with Vanessa Redgrave in Venus
"The common denominator of all my friends is that they're dead," O'Toole once observed. Indeed, O'Toole outlasted most of his contemporaries. Richard Burton is long gone; Oliver Reed, Richard Harris and Alan Bates departed a decade ago. Of O'Toole's generation, only a handful still live, let alone work: Michael Caine, Albert Finney, Vanessa Redgrave, Maggie Smith.

Consider how O'Toole compares to these peers. Richard Burton is typically remembered for squandering his formidable talents on booze, bad movies and Elizabeth Taylor. Mention Oliver Reed and you conjure drunken TV appearances and public nudity, not the gifted star of The Three Musketeers and Women in Love. Bates, Caine, Finney, Harris and Redgrave retain respect, but few would name them all-time greats (Smith perhaps being an exception).

O'Toole, in contrast, receives reverential status. He's known for carousing yes, but it never eclipsed his work. "The remarkable thing," David Thomsen once wrote, "is [O'Toole] has outlived some in this group in ways no one would have predicted. He was picked early on as someone who would destroy himself, not just by drinking but because of his whole attitude and manner." Close as O'Toole came in the '70s, his subsequent recovery cemented his status as a legend.

 How many contemporary stars did O'Toole inspire to pursue acting? Tom Cruise once told USA Today that "I remember seeing Lawrence of Arabia... and I knew I wanted to be an actor." Keanu Reeves said that The Ruling Class and Becket "had a great impact on me...I love [O'Toole's] game and vitality." Tom Hiddleston developed Loki for Thor by watching The Lion in Winter. "What's beautiful about his performance is you see how damaged he is... It's almost as if he's living with a layer of skin peeled away," Hiddleston remarked.

More simply, O'Toole's body of work speaks for itself. "If you wanted to be a proper actor... you have to have versatility," he once observed. T.E. Lawrence, Lord Jim, Jack, Lord Gurney, Henry II, Alan Swann, Reginald Johnson, Eli Cross, Maurice and yes, Anton Ego could attest to that.


Rest in peace, Peter O'Toole. You are missed.

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