Category: peter o’toole

From "Lawrence of Arabia" and "The Lion in Winter" to "My Favorite Year" and "Ratatouille," he was born to be a star, whether he wanted to be one or not.

Peter O'Toole, age 79, has announced that he will no longer perform in films or on stage or TV, and with his retirement the world shrinks just a little. 

From 1962, when the relatively unknown Irish actor with the piercing sky blue eyes dazzled the world in "Lawrence of Arabia," O'Toole appeared for all the world to be born to act, with a booming voice, insanely good looks, a rakish way with booze and ladies, and an outsized personality.  He was of the generation that included such epic lads as Richard Burton, Oliver Reed, Alan Bates and his longtime friend Richard Harris, reprobates all, and he is the last of them alive.

I can think of perhaps a dozen O'Toole roles that will always stay with me.  "Lawrence," of course, and the great historical follow-ups "Becket" and "A Lion in Winter," which seemed of a piece with "Lawrence," somehow, revealing O'Toole's curious combination of grandeur and fragility.  (The decision to cast him opposite Katherine Hepburn as feuding royal spouses in the latter was the sort of thing the word 'inspiration' was coined to describe.)  In Clive Donner's "What's New, Pussycat?" and Peter Medak's "The Ruling Class" he put his good looks and perverse sense of humor to fine use, revealing a twisted sensibility that felt at once modern and classic.

And then the good roles seemed to stop coming to him as his love of drink and distaste for professional discipline became as legendary as those blue eyes.  There were still great film roles -- the rascally director in "The Stunt Man," the Errol Flynn-inspired alcoholic actor in "My Favorite Year" -- but more frequently he appeared to be showing up to be paid rather than to deliver a performance.  Very late, he had two fine autumnal roles:  one as the aged actor inspired by lust in "Venus," the other as the voice of the acerbic food critic Anton Ego in "Ratatouille."  But by then the memory of the brilliant young man seemed almost disconnected from the fellow in front of you.

He never quit working on stage, and I was lucky enough to see him.  In 1982, traveling through London after college, I bought the cheapest ticket in the house to watch O'Toole perform George Barnard Shaw's "Man and Superman."  Sitting way up in the gods of the Haymarket theater, and even though he was handicapped with a hoarse voice and his arm in a sling, I was bowled over by his energy, magnetism, force and intensity.  He had something, alright, even when his reputation said that he'd lost it.

I speak about O'Toole as if he has died, which, of course, he has not.  The irony is that a full decade ago, offered a lifetime achievement Oscar (he has never won an Academy Award competitively, despite eight nominations), he nearly declined because he declared himself far from finished in the craft.  And, in fact, "Venus," his final Oscar-nominated performance, was yet to come.  But his output since accepting that award wasn't very different from what he'd done.  Announcing his retirement seems a fitting farewell, and even as a fan I feel

His retirement comes just days after the death of Ernest Borgnine, who lived to 95 and never quit working -- perhaps because he was of a stronger constitution, perhaps because success and stardom came to him later in life and had less to do with the random gift of physical beauty.  O'Toole was one of those blessed to look like a movie star even when he taxed his body with hard living.  You can't be sad to see him depart the stage, not when he seemed so shy about filling it maximally, not when he's leaving behind so many wonderful hours for us to watch and watch again forever.