Limelight:
An Oscar for Peter!
At long last it seems that Lawrence of Arabia, also known as Peter O'Toole, will once again bask in the glory of yet another exalted triumph. For over 40 years, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has overlooked a phenomenal actor of infinite grace and astonishing talent. Now it is ready to make amends and award this legendary thoroughbred "whose remarkable talents have provided cinema with some of its most memorable moments," an Honourary Oscar. It is hard to believe that Academy members have preferred other portrayals to his countless performances, glowing with light and heat, colour and fervour. His mesmerising Lawrence of Arabia, his boorish Henry II in both Becket and The Lion in Winter, his fiery Lord Jim, his warped General Tanz in Night of the Generals, his fanciful Man of La Mancha, or his stoic Mr. Chips. This living bundle of hopes and fears, doubts and certainties, prejudices and passion was far too much for Hollywood to fathom.
On receiving his invitation O'Toole's response was "as bold and impish as his best screen performance". In a handwritten letter to AMPAS, O'Toole said that he was 'enchanted' by the gesture, but is "still in the game and might still win the bugger [Oscar] outright, so would the Academy please defer the honour till I'm 80!".
A good deal of pleading and politicking may have convinced the actor to make the trip after all, although he will neither confirm or deny it. Let them squirm a little for their shocking omissions of his and other great talents like Cary Grant, Charlie Chaplin, Alfred Hitchcock, Deborah Kerr and Fred Astaire.
Shot to superstardom as the mysterious, enigmatic British officer TE Lawrence, O'Toole burst on the screen in a blaze of celestial light, like a white puff of cloud, enveloped in flowing white robes, his deep blue eyes glowing like the midnight sun. Since then he has remained engraved in the hearts and minds of film audiences, as the unforgettable enigmatic Lawrence of Arabia.
Peter O'Toole was born in Galway, Ireland, on 2 August 1932. His family moved to Leeds, England, a year later, where he was raised, but remained proud of his Irish roots and would always wear at least one item of green clothing, usually his socks. After seeing Michael Redgrave in King Lear, Peter realised he was destined for a life on the stage. He hitched a ride to London, and called in at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts. He had none of the qualifications for entering this actors' Mecca, but his intelligence and ability were enough to win him a coveted scholarship (1952-54). Peter distinguished himself in role after role until his longtime dream came true when that great lover of Shakespeare joined the Royal Shakespeare Company at Stratford in 1958. His performance as Shylock in The Merchant of Venice, prompted the Daily Express to ask "is this the next Olivier?" He acted on television and in a few films until David Lean picked this blond, lanky Irish boy with the blue, blue eyes "whose brilliance would put the Hope diamond to shame" to be his Lawrence. Peter recalls how astonished he was when David Lean offered him the part of "this introverted rather sexless, strange enigmatic man". "I still don't know how I did it." But he did do it, as no one else could have. He earned his first of seven Oscar nominations, and despite the loss, he went on to captivate and entrance in a variety of triumphs impressing audiences at every turn, becoming one of the biggest box-office draws of the 60s and 70s.
On location for Lawrence in the Jordanian desert, Peter met another actor from Egypt, and a great friendship was forged that has lasted through the decades. In 1999 Peter promptly responded to an invitation by the Cairo Film Festival to present their Life Achievement Award to his desert buddy Omar Sharif, or as Peter prefers, 'Fred'. Why Fred? Because Peter explains "when I saw this beautiful man with dark hair and whiskers, and they said he was Omar Sharif, I said 'that's impossible', no one can be called that, so he became 'Fred'!"
Blond, flamboyant, irreverent, Peter's virile physique and sensitive poetic-looking face have made him the screen's ideal, thoughtful, uncertain hero. Refreshing, bewitching, puzzling, his power of delivery is little short of miraculous. One of the greatest classical actors we have ever known in over 40 films he has regularly impressed us with his gifts in drama, comedy, tragedy, romance and even musicals. His voice melts us, his sarcasm stabs us, his style subdues us, his talent inflames us. The charm of his style baffles description. It is hard to describe charm. How can you analyse the fragrance of a flower, or the thumping of the heart at the sight of a beloved! It is at once seducing, refreshing, delicate and inviting. Like the murmur of the ocean in a far off shell collection, his haunting voice falls upon the ear with the dignity and precision of the polished gentleman or the impetuous torrent of a wild beast. Peter is at times icy cold, or simmers and seethes like burning coals. His captivating rhetoric excites your interest and enlivens your fancy, his splendour makes one's admiration breathless.
I had the good fortune of knowing Peter O'Toole in the mid- 60s and he is every bit as intriguing and as alluring as he is on the screen. The first time I met Peter was through a mutual friend, Lady Gloria Nugent and her husband, the late Irish actor/director Jack McGowran, who asked me to come over because some friends were stopping by. Those "friends" included poet laureate Stephen Spender, Sir Michael Redgrave, John Huston, and Richard Burton, among others. Richard Burton, with his dark brooding looks and deep sullen voice, was holding court, telling fabulous stories about Wales, Liz, Hollywood, poetry, and a few off-coloured tales. The guests hung on his every word, especially the ladies -- and then, in walked Peter and a heavenly radiance suddenly flooded the room. Every face lit up with joy as the young blond Adonis flitted like a butterfly with such ease, such grace, such charm--a poetic soufflé floating about refreshing the air. Even Richard was thrilled to see him. Such is the absolute power and consummate charisma of Peter O'Toole.
Known as the Bad Boy of British Theatre, O'Toole has just turned 70 and continues to write his amusing autobiography Loitering with Intent, Volume 3. He will next appear as King Priam in Wolfgang Petersen's grand epic production of the legendary Greek tragedy Troy. This uncommon man has received scores of awards: Golden Globes, Emmys, BAFTAs ( British Academy Awards) etc., etc. Even France has awarded him the Commandant de l'Ordre des Beaux Arts et Lettres. His star shines on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, and he was voted by Empire magazine as one of the 100 sexiest men alive (#47). The award closest to his heart however, is perhaps for his finest performance on stage, as his good friend, journalist Jeffrey Bernard, in the play by Keith Waterhouse Jeffrey Bernard is Unwell. A heavy drinker, Bernard, often unable to write his daily column would simply state "Jeffrey Bernard is Unwell". The play ran for years in London to great acclaim. In 1999 Peter was asked to repeat his brilliant performance at the Old Vic, and was honoured with the Lawrence Olivier Outstanding Achievement Trophy in 2000, a recognition worth all the seven Oscars that were never awarded him by the Academy. Of Peter one could well exclaim in D.G. Rossetti's luscious lines:
"Whence that completed form of all completeness?
Whence came that high perfection of all sweetness?"
On Oscar night the world will cheer a great actor of immeasurable talent, the personification of grace and polish, of style and class. To us, he will always be cherished as "Al Orans", the magnificent reincarnation of the great Lawrence of Arabia.
Al-Ahram Weekly Online : 20 - 26 March 2003 (Issue No. 630)
Located at: http://weekly.ahram.org.eg/2003/630/pe2.htm