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"Ami nécessaire" Rupert Everett talks Madonna


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http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2013/jun/09/vanished-years-rupert-everett-review

This second volume of autobiography from Rupert Everett charts the actor's meandering path through the often vapid world of showbiz, deploying a largely detached tone; yet somehow reading it is akin to being held in the vice-like grip of a demon. Everett's perspective is so engaging and his descriptive powers so arresting that his words become about more than his own experience. By the end, he has haphazardly painted a detailed picture of our times – as he may well have sneakily intended to do.

This is an excerpt in which he talks about a Tina Brown/Harvey Weinstein party in 1999 and his friendship and working relationship with Madonna at the time

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http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/books/10090928/Vanished-Years-by-Rupert-Everett-extract.html

It is a beautiful July evening in 1999, the perfect night for the last great American party, and the day I hit my peak. Harvey Weinstein and Tina Brown are launching a new magazine called Talk. It is going to be the most successful magazine the world has ever seen. People still talked – thought – like that in those heady last days of the American Raj.

I am standing with Madonna on the eastern tip of Manhattan. Harvey is with us. Behind us the skyline curves into the distance – a gigantic fortress in a blur of exhaust, its billion windows glinting in the setting sun, its Twin Towers flying high above the ramparts. The mad traffic within is only a murmur from the end of this jetty as I stand holding hands with the world’s undisputed Most Famous Woman.

A speedboat carrying Tina, Liam Neeson and Natasha Richardson ploughs across the Sound like a comet with a swirling tail of phosphorescence. (Natasha, the Towers — gone, and that’s what’s so spooky about this story.) Standing there with Madonna, who is on crutches (she pulled a muscle doing the splits), I am completely unaware that I have got about as far as I will ever go. And that the whole world is about to collapse.

Harvey is extremely courteous. Madonna leans on my arm. I am her “ami nécessaire” and if I’m developing skin cancer from too much basking in her reflected glory, I don’t care. Our film, which in a few short months will tear my career to shreds, is still in that ideal phase, made but not seen, and if our friendship is approaching its sell-by date we don’t know it yet. Or at least I don’t. (She probably sets a time limit on everything, including orgasm.) For the time being, the world is fascinated by us and so are we.

Has it all gone to my head? Or do I still feel out of place? Both. It’s a befuddled drunken feeling. We climb aboard a cigarette boat, swerve flirtatiously past the phalanx of cameras and roar off towards the island in a wall of spray. The cameras flash like a fabulous firework, and the screams of those hysterical freaks blow at us in the breeze. Madahhh-nna! Ruperrrrt!

We ignore them, knowing that it will be a great photo op and Madonna has never looked prettier. She too is in the last days of her prime, perched on the edge of a delicate reinvention as spiritual leader and offshore earth mother. Harvey and Tina may be launching a magazine. Madonna is launching a new religion. It’s the only thing left when you’ve had it all. Becoming God (or Goop, in Gwyneth Paltrow’s case).

We arrive at the party at exactly the right time. Henry Kissinger is already there and I am by Madonna’s side as he is introduced. Omygod, I think, this is the man who dragged Cambodia into the Vietnam War, but of course I say nothing, even when a waitress comes by to ask us what we want to eat. “What’s on the menu?” asks Kissinger and I can barely restrain myself from shrieking, “What’s on the menu, Henry? Would that be Operation Menu?”

Instead I obsequiously offer to go and fetch some nibbles. With success comes compromise, and it’s amazingly easy to forget two million massacred Cambodians as one is passing around the cheese straws. There is a bit of a hiccough as Tina searches for the right way of introducing Madonna to Henry.

“Miss Ciccone? Mrs Lopez? The queen of pop?” She giggles awkwardly.

“Madonna,” I say firmly. “Would you like a cheese straw, Henry?”

Madonna is putting on a brave face but I can tell she is frustrated by her crutches. She needs to be able to swoop into downward dog at any given moment, or at least to be a crab, and feels severely compromised if she can’t. She hobbles home after about half an hour, to wrap herself in clingfilm for another sleepless night plotting.

Pretty soon I am off my face on booze and powder, nipping off to the loo with all the usual suspects as soon as Madge looks the other way, :chuckle: shovelling coke up my nose, contorted, five to a Portaloo, giggling and chopping and sniffing and rolling up those damp disease-trap dollar bills and really, if I’m looking at me now, I should already be knowing better, because first of all whatever gland produces saliva has gone on strike inside my mouth and it feels like a dry paper bag and I am obliged to constantly lube it by bucketing alcohol down my throat.

Suddenly everyone in the entire party is struck with the same thought: let’s get an early boat and not get stuck. We’re too late and wait for hours, but finally I find myself on a boat with one of the nicer couples — Julianne Moore and her husband Bart Freundlich. They can see that I am totally wiped out. My mouth is so dry now that I can hardly talk. My hair looks as though I have just stuck my finger in an electric plug. Bart

and Julianne are well mannered but I can tell that they are grossed out.

The boat trip takes for ever and feels like a scene from Titanic. Liberty looks at her watch and says, “Goodness, is that the time?” and the lights go out. I end up in some restaurant with Kate Moss and Liam Neeson and Baillie Walsh and a few other people.

Liam says: “Rupert, I’m really happy about your career.” And someone else says the only true thing of the night: “Don’t worry. It’s not going to last!"

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It sounds like he's feels she was plotting to end their friendship, and at the same time readily admitting he was sneaking off from her to take coke? Nice

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Guest Rachelle of London

Am I the only one bored with his "autobiographies" he's worse than Katie Price

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So here's the thing, on his 1st biography he claims he let M read it & didn't understand why she froze him

out & regretted their friendship ended because of that + he was rather positive about TNBT despite

admitting it was shit & a big flop. Why revisit this in yet another biography?

It's only now that his career is over, he's going in 4 the kill.

How do u spell: OPPORTUNIST?

Oh, & Rupert darling, the world was never that obsessed with ur 'friendship',

it lives mainly in ur head.

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Things that annoyed me or struck me as false/fake/delusional:

- the eastern tip of Manhattan? Where might that be exactly? lol

- "our film...will tear my career to shreds." Please. Many talented actors have survived worse. It's not like he was married to her. Nobody aside from Madonna fans associates him with Madonna or that movie. If his career declined after that, it's because he has a bad manager or his ride as an openly gay actor had run its course.

- "She probably sets a time limit on everything, including orgasm." Bitter much?

- the last days of her prime? point taken, but it was really the last YEARS of her prime. and anyway, weren't the real last years of her prime in the early '90s?

"she needs to be able to swoop into downward dog at any given moment." Seriously? Anybody would be frustrated with having to be on crutches. he's really an idiot.

And regarding the spirituality thing, she comes off so down to earth and humble about the whole thing in that "madonna rising" VH1 special they did together. he was the one trying to re-annoint her as the "spiritual girl." It just seems like he was more fascinated with her persona and with being "friends with madonna" than with actually knowing her.

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I cannot believe in 13 years how badly he has aged. That photo on the first post makes him look like Mr Burns from The Simpsons!!!

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Guest Rachelle of London

I cannot believe in 13 years how badly he has aged. That photo on the first post makes him look like Mr Burns from The Simpsons!!!

Have you seen his Kenco commercial...he looks AWFUL!

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He has an odd, manic depressive 'the world hates me and I hate it back' thing going on that is just... depressing.

I don't buy him blaming that his career went to shit because he was an 'out' actor. I've read so many industry folks say his career went to shit not because he was gay, but because he had a proverbial stick up his ass, and was horrible to work with. It's obvious even in his writing. Blaming it on being gay is a fucking cop out, and only further protects that institutional little closet Hollywood loves so much.

You don't see Ian McKellan being a bitch, and the industry and public love him.

Here's a thought dude...you were an average actor at best.

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It sounds like he's feels she was plotting to end their friendship, and at the same time readily admitting he was sneaking off from her to take coke? Nice

That's exactly what I thought too

Doesn't seem a very logical/coherent and a smart thing to say 14 years on. Even in light of the fact that Madonna is famously easily irritated by people who use drugs or that mantain unhealthy lifestyles in general. He also seems bitter at the reception of TNBT but I think it's just an excuse for something that happened in their friendship years LATER since they have been on excellent terms till 2008

Besides to suggest that he suffered from TNBT or that Madonna was in the last days of her prime is pure delusional idiocy (just seems something gratuitously bitter to say from somebody who for some reason is bearing a grudge) considering that he did continue to have a career and that Madonna went on to rake in over a $1bn from touring in the span of 11 years

When Elton John attacked Madonna at the Q awards in 2004 he was one of the first to come to her rescue and in 2006 she asked him to be David's godfather . He started to imply the friendship was over at the beginning of 2009 when he was on Broadway doing a play with Angela Lansbury and he also said something about Gwyneth which made it seem like, at the time, they had singled him out of their friendship or something

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And regarding the spirituality thing, she comes off so down to earth and humble about the whole thing in that "madonna rising" VH1 special they did together. he was the one trying to re-annoint her as the "spiritual girl." It just seems like he was more fascinated with her persona and with being "friends with madonna" than with actually knowing her.

Yes

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So here's the thing, on his 1st biography he claims he let M read it & didn't understand why she froze him

out & regretted their friendship ended because of that + he was rather positive about TNBT despite

admitting it was shit & a big flop. Why revisit this in yet another biography?

Because he's got a publishing deal with Little Brown? :fag:

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I cannot believe in 13 years how badly he has aged. That photo on the first post makes him look like Mr Burns from The Simpsons!!!

Oh that's nothing

When a 50-year-old man goes shopping for cheek implants it's a sign he's really decided to screw up his face

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The most bizarre thing is that he has a second ( volume) biography out,when no one gave a shit about the first. Have publishing houses become this desperate for a novel.

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Crazy as hell. 50 something years old and he looks like he is in his mid to late 70s! Hell. My grandfather is 91 and has less wrinkles. Do we know if he did tons of meth as well with all that coke?

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He hit on me on the streets in New York while he was walking his dog. He stopped me and all i could say was "Sorry but i must pee" and it was oh so very true, i thought i was about to die.

Anyway i guess Madonna fazed him out for the same reasons she fazed out Ingrid, Donatella, Christopher...= cocaine.

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Am I the only one who never thought he was attractive to begin with? Okay, maybe he was "attractive," back in the 90s, but I was never attracted to him. Big forehead, liver lips...typical Brit.

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Too many homo's around Madonna destroy themselves with drugs (her brother, Rupert, etc.), maybe if they took a page from her book and learned how to practice self-discipline they'd still have careers and she'd still want them around.

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Anyway i guess Madonna fazed him out for the same reasons she fazed out Ingrid, Donatella, Christopher...= cocaine.

What?! Her and Ingrid are no more? When did this happen?!

As for Rupert, I hate the way he says things like '...the last great American Party' and 'the last days of the American Raj'. It's simply self-serving myth making and illustrates his desire to be perceived as being culturally significant at the time. I guess we all want to feel as if we matter, but we're not all quite so unpleasantly egomaniacal about it.

He was interviewed on BBCs Hard Talk not so long ago, and his personality doesn't seem that far removed from Chis Ciccone's; gay, pretentious, and now somewhat bitter that the world hasn't recognised and rewarded his supposed geniousness to the extent he thinks it should have. He did say, though, that he 'adored' Madonna 'and (I) still do', whilst acknowledging that the friendship was over. I get the feeling that he's now one of those celebs that we'll forget about and then will periodically pop up on chat shows to talk about himself, Madonna and another instalment of his autobiography that few will read or care about.

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Im always so shocked to see how bad he looks these days. the years have not been kind to him. its obvious he is still drowning his sorrows in powder and puff. too bad. he used to be sucha good looking dude.

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Guest bluejean

He actually sounds quite witty, it's a shame he has to be nasty/bitter toward Madonna

His writing style reminds me of Kim from this forum

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