For The Love of Peter O'Toole: Club Paradise

Title: Club Paradise (Harold Ramis, 1986)

Role: Governor Anthony Cloyden Hayes, sunburnt patriarch of a Caribbean resort island

Ah, from the brilliant to the...Club Paradise. Now, when you look at who's involved in the making of this film, you might be surprised to find that it kind of sucks a lot. It was directed and co-written by Harold Ramis, who co-wrote and directed Caddysack and co-wrote Ghostbusters, which made my list of 'Perfect Films.' And this film stars a lot of SCTV alumns, including Rick Moranis, Eugene Levy, and Andrea Martin. Those are some pretty solid comedy qualifications. On the bright side, Robin Williams in the starring role of a Chicago policeman who decides to retire to the Caribbean and open a resort hotel, is not, as usual, completely annoying and unwatchable. So, that's a plus.

As you might imagine, the plot is: Williams cons some American tourists into visiting his totally craptacular resort while trying to be a good guy and fight the evil forces of the snooty uppercrust resort around the corner and combat the rising violent island rebellion that threatens to bum everyone out. O'Toole plays the laidback governor of the island, who's totally more interested in bedding babes and getting baked (by the sun and otherwise) to deal with political upheaval or whatever. So, pretty bland. But it's not all bad. The soundtrack by raegge artist Jimmy Cliff, is pretty good. The highlight of the film is definitely the two Barry's--Eugene Levy and Rick Moranis--two nerds on vacation to score chicks and smoke pot. Sounds dumb, is funny. Which is a good way to describe the film overall. 

For The Love of Peter O'Toole: Creator

Title: Creator (Ivan Passer, 1985)

Role: Dr. Harry Wolper, research scientist and amateur Frankenstein

You'll notice we've skipped the 1970s altogether and are now firmly in that horrific decade of my blessed birth--the '80s. Creator is my favorite O'Toole film of the decade, thankfully a lot weightier, and funnier, than How to Steal A Million. If 'For The Love of Peter O'Toole' gets you to rent only one O'Toole film, I would encourage you to seek out Creator. It's definitely not as well know as these others, but it's definitely in the top 10 in terms of quality. Creator is such a triumph and wonder because it manages to successfully blend tones, which is probably the hardest single thing a film can ever do. There are elements of '80s teen romp, science-fiction, comedy and heart-rending melodrama. Usually, that combination would spell absolute disaster, but thanks to Passer's script and direction, all the characters are so clearly formed, real people that every quirk of personality or twist of fate is dealt with as messily and beautifully as they would be in real life. 

The story is this: O'Toole plays Harry Wolper, a genius biologist/physician slumming it as a university researcher (the film was shot at my alma mater UC Irvine--bonus awesome points!). 

UC Irvine! I've probably sat on that bench. Oh, yeah, be jealous.

Wolper enlists a slacker research assistant, played by the slackerishly charming Vincent Spano, to help him try to clone his wife who died thirty years prior. Wolper also rustles up Meli, played by Mariel Hemingway to implant and incubate the dead wife's eggs. Oh, yeah, did I mention it's kind of weird? But it's also kind of sweet, as the naive romance between Spano's Boris and Barbara, played by Virgina Madsen, proves. I won't spoil the plot points for you. Some people fall in love, some people get sick and there are a whole lot of laughs and tears along the way. Yes, it sounds cliched, but I can honestly say Creator is one of the most refreshing films I've seen in a long while. It's always the best when you run across a film you totally expected nothing from and it ends up being one of the best films you've ever seen. Such is Creator. 

And the whole thing is available to watch on YouTube! Now you really have no excuse. 

For The Love of Peter O'Toole: How to Steal a Million

Title: How to Steal a Million (William Wyler, 1966)
Role: Simon Dermott, suave cat burglar

So, a lot of people really like this movie because of Audrey Hepburn and her Givenchy wardrobe. There's no doubt she's elegant as all hell in the film, but I've never been a big Hepburn fan. I find her acting about as slight as her waistline and dull, dull, dull. But I know I'm in the minority here. However, Hepburn's rather surface charms are exactly the point in How to Steal a Million, which, if heist movies were cookies, would certainly be a vanilla wafer. O'Toole and Hepburn are probably the thinnest couple ever in a mainstream film, so stylish and attractive in their well-tailored suits, traipsing around Paris in O'Toole's delicious yellow Jaguar XKE. 

Seriously, just look at these GQMFs. 

Anyway, the plot. Audrey's father is a kooky old art forger who's rather brazenly donates his own forgery of the Cellini Venus to some museum, except that--oops!--the museum needs to authenticate the statue. So, Audrey hires O'Toole (who's conveniently just broken into her house) to steal the Venus back from the museum so they don't get busted. Blah-de-blah, through a series of quirky and amusing goingson, Hepburn and O'Toole spend a large part of the film stuffed into a supply cupboard where the close quarters and lack of oxygen make them fall in love with each other. Some other stuff happens and everyone lives happily, and stylishly, ever after. I told you it was slight. As someone who prefers their heist films tense and gritty (Rififi, Heat), viewing How to Steal a Million as such is bound to be a disappointment. I suppose 'light comic diversion' would be a more accurate category. Either way, if you watch the film, don't expect much. Just detach your brain and focus your eyeballs; it's like visual cotton candy. 

For The Love of Peter O'Toole: Comedy Intro & What's New Pussycat

In my introductory post, I'd started to outline my recent Peter O'Toole-a-thon, a marathon of as much of that actor's work as I could acquire on Netflix (although I did break down and purchase a hard-to-find copy of Night of the Generals, but more on that in a later entry). I was sort of at a loss of how to organize the whole affair. Via Netflix, I generally tried to rent chronologically although occasionally I would skip back and forth a few decades. But for these entries, somehow, chronologically didn't cut it. 

The first batch of entries covered O'Toole's Oscar-nominated roles--all eight of them. In the earlier part of his career, you can see a certain similarity. They're classic Oscar catnip--historical figures, films based on plays or novels. In the '70s, there's a shift and The Ruling Class is the only nominated role that decade (later, health problems would curtail O'Toole's proficiency). The '80s were good to O'Toole, by then a legend in the industry, and he garnered two nominations in three years. Then there was a very long gap until the triumphant return in Venus, in what critics like to call a "career-defining performance" (e.g., this old bloke'll be dead soon, give him a bloody Oscar already). But the Academy didn't and O'Toole's still well and kicking.

Which brings me to round two: comedies. Arguably a more interesting category ripe for speculation of the "What was he thinking?" variety, although the answer as we'll well see is usually beautiful locations, copious alcohol, gorgeous women or a combination of all three.

Title: What's New Pussycat (Clive Donner & Richard Talmadge, 1965)
Role: Michael James, whose job is a lecher's dream

In this early scene, O'Toole visits a mad Viennese psychoanalyst, played with his usual manic genius by Peter Sellers. There he outlines the basic plot, if the film can be said to have a plot, rather than a series of gags strung together however tenuously. O'Toole has a massive weakness for beautiful women, the kind of women that make a man crazy. They flock to him like bees to honey. The problem is, he's in love with his fiancee Carole (Romy Schneider) and doesn't want to cheat. Therefore, he consults Dr. Fritz (Sellers), who he doesn't know is even more neurotic than he is.

And if that scene appealed to you, you'll probably love the film. If it didn't then steer clear ofWhat's New Pussycat at all costs. For what it's worth, I love the movie for all its bawdy, absurdist humor. In addition to O'Toole and Sellers, Woody Allen makes his movie acting debut (he also wrote the script) as Victor who's in love with O'Toole's girlfriend Carole. The combination of Allen and Sellers pretty much makes this a comedy nerd's dream and shares many hallmarks of that later masterpiece--but let's face it, clusterfuck--Casino Royale. What's New Pussycat, at least, is a bit more sensible in plot and competent in execution, although it does feature James Bond sex goddess Ursula Andress parachuting into Peter O'Toole's car with no explanation. But that's part of its charm. The climactic sequence features all the principal actors in a go-cart race for absolutely no reason at all. And did you notice Sellers is wearing a maroon velvet jumpsuit and a Guy Fawkes wig? Why? Shits and giggles, of course. 

For The Love of Peter O'Toole: Venus

Venus (Roger Michell, 2006)

Role: Aging actor Maurice Russell

Full disclosure again: I love this film. I probably shouldn't but something about its simple elegance really gets to me. I really have no defense for my position because it's just as sentimental as My Favorite Year, if not more so. I also have a great weakness for another Roger Michell film, Notting Hill. That's right, Notting Hill. Deal with it. O'Toole's character Maurice is pretty much an alternate version of himself, although screenwriter Hanif Kareshi denies it was written with O'Toole in mind. And I can actually believe that, considering how many aging, English ex-boozing, ex-womanizing stage and screen actors there are (rifle through the cast lists of the Harry Potter films, you might be surprised). In fact, acting legends Leslie Philips and Richard Griffiths play Maurice's best friends, and Vanessa Redgrave plays his ex-wife.

Maurice has a hard time booking any acting gigs that aren't men dying of horrible diseases or even better still, corpses. His best friend (Philips) has to take in his niece, a low-class "sluttish young woman" as O'Toole was fond of saying in press interviews. Philips is horrified, O'Toole is intrigued. What follows is not what you would expect. Although the extremity of the May-December aspect of the story never truly goes away, the film is much more subtle and realistic that you would probably expect. I was really impressed with the honesty and integrity of the screenplay. It's never dumbed down for you and constantly challenges the viewers' assumptions about character and plot. I liked that a lot. Check out this scene where Jessie (Jodie Whittaker) and O'Toole talk about a tragedy in her past. Great acting by both.

For The Love of Peter O'Toole: My Favorite Year

My Favorite Year (Richard Benjamin, 1982)

Role: Washed-up, alcoholic swashbuckler Alan Swann

Full disclosure: I don't like this film. But, a whole heck of a lot of other people really do. It's something of a sentimental favorite for a lot of people. My Favorite Year is that kind of film: sentimental. Practically dripping for nostalgia, it's the story of a young television writer in the 1950s working for a Sid Caeser-esque comedian. The writer has to chaperone O'Toole's character, an Errol Flynn-like gentleman boozer as he rehearses for his guest spot on the variety show. There's a lame mob sub-plot and lots of Mel Brooks-type humor, like this. Still, although I couldn't stand nearly everything in the film, like many times before, O'Toole saves the picture. It's a light-comic farce so it's easy to forget the facility and grace it takes an actor to perform the physical comedy and repartee the part of Alan Swann requires. But there's also some surprisingly heavy lifting to be done; Swann is an unrepentant alcoholic with a daughter he's never even met. Kind of a jerk, really. O'Toole provides the charm needed to balance the character effectively.

For The Love of Peter O'Toole: The Stuntman

The Stunt Man (Richard Rush, 1980)

Role: Eli Cross, maniacal film director

To be honest, I haven't seen The Stunt Man yet. When I set out on my O'Toole-a-thon it was one of the films I was anticipating the most. Cult reputation, Oscar nomination and the clips onYouTube were phenomenal, classic O'Toole. The problem, like so many of O'Toole's work, was inaccessibility. The Stunt Man has a nightmare production history. Director Richard Rush had tried to get the film made since the early '70s. It was finally filmed in 1978, only to have its release delayed until 1980. Box office was a disaster even for the early '80s, one of Hollywood's least lucrative and artistically fulfilling periods. Even though the film garnered rave reviews, Golden Globe and Academy Award nominations, for whatever reason, the studio didn't release the film to a wide market; it had a long run in Los Angeles theaters but that was about it.

However, although the film itself is not available on Netflix (the special edition DVD was released in 2001 with only 100,000 copies), the making-of documentary The Sinister Saga of Making the Stunt Man, is. So, I rented it. Narrated by director Richard Rush, it's a video cam-style doc, strangely '80s with its cheesy special effects, shoddy green screen work and bizarre narration. But, if you can get past the weirdness of the delivery, the content is amazing. Even if you haven't since the film, the doc gives incredibly detailed insight into the minutia of the filmmaking process. Rush covers everything from how the property came to his attention, his decade-long fight with studios and producers to get the film made even after he had other commercial successes to his name, casting, script rewrites, production stories, and distribution nightmares. Any aspiring director should watch this documentary, if only to mentally prepare himself for the ridiculous hoops you have to jump through to get a movie made in Hollywood. The doc is long (nearly two hours) and grows tedious sometimes, but due to the sheer wealth of information here, aspiring filmmakers and hardcore fans of The Stunt Man should give it a look.

For The Love of Peter O'Toole: The Ruling Class

The Ruling Class (Peter Medak, 1972)

Role: Jack Gurney, the 14th Earl of Gurney, aka Jesus Christ, aka Jack the Ripper

The Ruling Class is a crazy, crazy movie. An adaptation of Peter Barnes' play of the same name, Medak's film is a lengthy, caustic, outrageous satire that defies categorization. It is at once a comedy, a tragedy, a socio-political satire and a musical. The Ruling Class is intensely British, concerned with the ludicrous pompacity and hypocrisy of peerage and nobility. It is also a shocking, intensely honest look at serious mental illness. O'Toole's performance as Gurney, a man with acute paranoid schizophrenia is alternately charming and hilarious and legitimately terrifying.

The film is divided into two sections. In the first, O'Toole's Gurney believes he is the second coming of Jesus Christ. This sort of eccentricity would be tolerated for someone in Gurney's position, except that his father and just passed away and Jack is set to inherit his father's seat in the House of Lords. After undergoing electroshock therapy, the film schisms. Gurney appears cured. He no longer believes he is Christ and apparently settles down with his wife and new baby. The only problem: his delusions have not disappear, only shifted. Gurney now believes he is Jack The Ripper.

What the medical community calls "cray-cray."

In this scene, Gurney-as-Christ presents himself to his family and friends for the first time:

As the premise suggests, there are no easy answers in this film. It's certainly not a comfortable experience--

the length, the intensity and the psychological complexity require a lot of the viewer. However, in my opinion,

it's all worth it because of O'Toole's performance. This clip is called the 'scariest real moment in film' and I

can't help but agree. Overacting is notoriously easy to do, especially with a role like Gurney. Mental illness,

theatricality and satire is a dangerous mix for the hammy actor. But watch this clip and if that terrible,

animalistic growl doesn't legitimately unsettle you, I don't know what will.

For The Love of Peter O'Toole: Goodbye, Mr. Chips

Goodbye Mr. Chips (Herbert Ross, 1969)

Role: Gentle schoolmaster Arthur Chipping

From the novel by James Hilton, this version of Goodbye Mr. Chips is updated as a musical, but it's better not to think of it that way. The music and lyrics are not particularly thrilling and O'Toole's voice is nothing to write home about. The film is better viewed for what I think it truly is, a gentle, sentimental tale about a shy schoolmaster who falls in love with an outre music hall singer (Petula Clark). As cliche as that premise sounds, the movie works because of the chemistry between the leads. Chips is O'Toole's most nuanced, subdued performance on this list, possibly in his whole career. That he succeeds in that role as much as any bombastic king or madmen is an achievement and an intriguing thought. I wish O'Toole had taken the gentler turn more often.

The film itself was not a box office success and it's easy to see why. It sort of defies categorization. Like I said, it fails to impress as a musical, especially when compared to its compatriot and 1968 Best Picture winner Oliver! It's a period piece, spanning the 1920s-present day (late 1960s) in English history. In every period, Chips is out of place. His conservatism is mocked by the Lost Generation, he can't understand why the school is under siege during the air raids of WWII, and after his wife dies, he is as lost as ever, retreating to the memories of happier days. Chips is a man out of time, only content when he and Clark have married. She slower starts to open up Chips' world, becoming the beloved "mother" of all the students, past and present, at the all boys school.

This clip demonstrates the gentle sentimentality and fond nostalgia that infuses the entire film as O'Toole, after a lecture where he's failed to connect to his students, reminisces about his own bygone school days:

For The Love of Peter O'Toole: The Lion in Winter

The Lion in Winter (Anthony Harvey, 1968)

Role: King Henry II, older and more embittered

If there was one role Peter O'Toole definitely should have won an Academy Award for, it's The Lion in Winter. Like Lawrence, it was nominated in seven categories, its most notable win for Katharine Hepburn's fiery turn as Henry's conniving wife Eleanor of Aquitaine. Instead, O'Toole lost to Cliff Robertson in Charly, but don't feel bad if you don't recognize the movie or the actor--few do. Charly's a good example of how playing a mentally challenged character almost guarantees an Oscar. With forty years of hindsight, it's easy to see O'Toole should have won. His Henry II is a monumental performance. His sparring with Hepburn is legendary.

The story concerns Henry's three sons plotting with their mother against him, jockeying for command of the kingdom. Eleanor, no stranger to political plotting, is released from exile by Henry, ostensibly to aid Henry--a man she loves and loaths with equal passion--in choosing an heir.

There are so many brilliant lines in this film, adapted by the play by James Goldman, I could read the script everyday and never get tired. Here are just a few clips to demonstrate the verbal wit and impeccable acting of O'Toole and Hepburn:

I admit I may be biased but just watch this scene in which a fed-up Henry castigates his plotting sons and tell me O'Toole shouldn't have won the Academy Award.

For The Love of Peter O'Toole: Becket

Becket (Peter Glenville, 1964)

Role: King Henry II

Oscar nomination?: Yes. 

I was definitely unprepared for the emotional response I'd have to Becket. Even after viewing the film twice during my O'Toole-a-Thon, I routinely long for another dose of Becket. This appeal for me stems from the onscreen friendship at the heart of the film, between King Henry (O'Toole) and Thomas Becket (Richard Burton). Although a historical drama set in the 12th century, the friendship between the two men is emotionally raw and realistic. Glenville's film is very beautiful but the heart of the film and, in my opinion, the enduring popularity of the film, is the chemistry between O'Toole and Burton. This is aided, of course, by Burton & O'Toole's rather notorious life-long friendship, their boozing and carousing mirrored in the characters of Henry and Becket.

Like Lawrence of Arabia, Becket starts at the end, after Becket's assassination. It then flashes back to the happiest times of Becket's and Henry's friendship. The opening scene:

In addition to the friendship and fall-out between Becket and the King, there are also scenes of Henry's

notoriously disfunctional family. Scenes like this are a nice precursor to O'Toole's next Oscar-nominated

performance, as Henry II in The Lion in Winter.

On the Netflix side, Becket has a lot of nice special features. It was re-released on DVD and briefly

in theaters in 2007. There's a moderated audio commentary with O'Toole that provides a lot of

insights into filmmaking and highlight's O'Toole's research into the real Henry II and the Plantagenets

and 12th century life.

For The Love of Peter O'Toole: Intro & Lawrence of Arabia

Thanks to Netflix, my movie watching habits are more organized than ever. I have entire runs of TV series' in there, as well as spats of silent horror films, and some of those 'recommended for you in the Dark, Foreign category' (am I so predictable?). But, those films always seem to get knocked down the queue by my favorite type of viewing experience: the actor's filmography.

This is when a new obsession comes around and I watch all of his or her (oh, who am I kidding--his) films in a row. I've had several of these film binges, each quite enjoyable and enlightening, but none more so than my self-dubbed Peter O'Toole-a-Thon a few months ago. I can't quite recall what prompted choosing O'Toole. I had seen Lawrence of Arabia, of course, and adored it, but I wanted to really dig deep into an actor's filmography. I knew that nearly any film next to Lawrence was bound to be a let-down, but I persisted. Netflix has a feature where an entire actor's filmography is listed and you can add them all into your queue nearly instantly. The desire was much too strong. And that's how I came to brink of O'Toole insanity this past winter.

Every day was a new adventure. One evening I'm indulging in the adventures of Henry II with a Becket/Lion In Winter double-header (no mean feat considering their combined running time is nearly five hours), the next I'm witnessing a musical O'Toole in the rather regrettable Man of La Mancha and the rather delightful Goodbye Mr. Chips.

One of my favorite benefits of the actor's filmography marathon vs. any other type of film binge is the sense of career and time you get. A director may make a new film every six years, so you cannot really trace his development in any single decade; an early film might be dynamite and a later film might be, well, rubbish. Watching films across genres is satisfying but occasionally frustrating, as a marathon in classic Westerns, revisionist Westerns and modern Westerns reveals. O'Toole did his best work in the 1960s, which just happens to be my favorite decade in film. Since he is a British actor, his filmography reveals dabbling in European and American sensibilities that mingle very pleasingly. There are also many tensions in O'Toole's filmography that make for interesting viewing. Theater vs. film, matinee idol vs. character actor roles, intense drama vs. ribald comedy are all dichotomies I confronted during my O'Toole-a-Thon.

I've divided the rest of the entry up among the O'Toole films I viewed. Unfortunately, many of his films aren't available on DVD and even more unfortunately, much of his best stage work was never filmed. However, you can listen to a segment of Peter in The Taming of the Shrew here. O'Toole has also done some great work on television which I won't be covering here.

The first group will be Peter's Academy-Award nominated roles (eight in all), a movie a day. Enjoy!

Lawrence of Arabia (David Lean, 1962)

Role: T.E. Lawrence

I've already talked a bit about Lawrence in the context of my Perfect Films. But consider O'Toole pre-Lawrence. Before starting filming in 1961, Peter O'Toole had two films under his belt, the Disney adaptation of Kidnapped and The Day They Robbed the Bank of England, the part which caught Lean's eye got him the role of Lawrence. Many more famous actors had been considered for Lawrence, including Marlon Brando, Albert Finney (O'Toole's compatriot at the RADA), Anthony Perkins, and Monty Clift. French actor Alain Delon (later Jean-Pierre Melville's gangster muse), actually won the part but was replaced by O'Toole after negative screen tests. LoA's production history is notorious; Lean and company filmed for over a year, in Jordan and later, Spain and Morocco.

The story, if you don't already know, is about T.E. Lawrence, an officer in the British Army during WWI. Instead of fighting in Europe, he helps lead the Arabs in a revolution against the Turks. The films opens with Lawrence's death in a motorcycle accident and the rest of the story is shown in flashback. Instead of undercutting the suspense during Lawrence's dangerous adventures, the knowledge of his rather pedestrian death serves only to heighten his legend. We witness the intense trials Lawrence survives, including the incredible sequences of crossing the Devil's Anvil and the taking of the Turkish fort at Aqaba, a decisive English/Bedouin victory.

Although the film won seven Oscars, including Best Picture and Best Director David Lean, O'Toole did not. It's understandable in the context of his youth and inexperience in movie acting. Even still, looking back on the undisputed classic Lawrence of Arabia is today, and the legendary iconic status of O'Toole's performance as Lawrence, it's amazing to think he didn't win. In fact, O'Toole's Lawrence is #10 on the AFI's 100 Heroes list; #1 is Gregory Peck as Atticus Finch, the performance that beat O'Toole at the 1963 Academy Awards.