He is my favourite actor. He can do menacing, charming, urbane, witty, rough trade. He has a great voice, a superb nose and he always fills the screen. Even in terrible films (yes, even Blame it on Rio) he is always watchable. But now this: asked last month which book he would take to a desert island if allowed only one, he chose The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand.
(Portrait by Steve Pyke)
4 comments:
Not a lot of people know that.
They do now.
Feet of clay?
Brain of clay, I thought, which is why it was depressing.
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