Rupert Everett believes that his acting career is based on luck rather than talent. He also admits that a fair share of his on-screen performances are wooden and uninspired.
However, Rupert’s limited acting ability is easy to overlook because as a writer he is wicked, funny and perceptive.
In 2006 he released his autobiography Red Carpets and Other Banana Skins. It’s packed with stories about his youthful rent boy days, sleazy rendezvous in gay beats and insights into his friendships with Madonna, Gianni Versace, Julia Roberts, Sharon Stone, Colin Friel, and many others. In fact, Everett spent so much time socialising in the 70s and 80s it’s surprising he got any work done at all.
Being a popular personality allowed him to traverse the planet (attracting a bizarre entourage) and to gather enough material for a second autobiography Vanished Years, a chronicle of his entry into middle age.
Midlife confounds the eloquent Rupert:
“In middle age, time begins to shrink. Days, months and years seem shorter. People who once appeared impossibly old are suddenly contemporaries with much more energy than oneself. The rebellion of youth gives way, exhausted, to the certainty of genes, and little by little one begins the long limp home. The gulfs we build between families and enemies and lovers begin to evaporate.”
He also writes about his family’s bond with one another and realises, despite their differences, that they are there until the end.
Rupert laments that so much of life is wasted on petty arguments and misunderstandings.
I now look upon Rupert with a different perspective. He is an astute, intelligent man, given to tantrums and diva behaviour on set, but a sensitive and thoughtful man underneath.
Rupert is one of life’s characters and his writing is far more interesting than his acting.