Arnie? An ass. Bruce Willis? A plonker. But Pfeiffer? My wife thought I was in love: Barry Norman reveals what he REALLY thinks about the stars he's met
By JANE FRYER
|
Barry's late wife Diana (Dee) thought the film critic had fallen in love with Michelle Pfeiffer (above). 'She got really, really annoyed when I kept saying how lovely she was,' says Barry
Barry Norman is 80 years old and very much alive, thank you very much.
He drinks enthusiastically (white wine), smokes heavily (today it’s Embassy duty free, but generally anything he can lay his hands on), supports Tottenham Hotspur, is a dab-hand in the kitchen (spaghetti bolognese, his special pickled onions and full Christmas dinner a la Delia) and works whenever he can on TV, radio or writing articles for newspapers (‘I do like to pontificate grandly’).
He is also extremely chatty, wonderfully indiscreet about the endless stars he came into contact with over the 28 years he hosted his two film review TV programmes and, unless I’m very much mistaken, retains a definite twinkle in his rather rheumy eye. (He was once voted the thinking women’s crumpet, alongside Melvyn Bragg).
‘I’ve always liked women very much. Oh yes! I’d far rather have a tete-a-tete with a woman than go down to the rugby club or the cricket club with the boys and drink at the bar. I’ve always got on well with women and they seem to like me.’
But mostly, he desperately misses his late wife Diana (Dee), who died in her sleep two-and-a-half years ago. Her passing left him pole-axed with grief and howling in pain.
‘In fiction, people give anguished cries of “No! Oh, no! Oh, please God, no!” I never used to believe it before but now I know it’s true. That’s exactly what people do. And it doesn’t get any better. I was hoping it might, but it doesn’t. There haven’t been any stages of grief. It’s been pretty much the same from day one.
‘But I still chat to her all the time. Oh yes! Every night before I go to sleep, I fill her in with the details of what happened during the day. And then I curse her, very soundly, for dying before me. But the galling thing is, I don’t get any comeback any more. And, Jesus, she was the best at that.’
Barry, 80, (left) drinks enthusiastically, smokes heavily, supports Totteham Hotspur and is a dab-hand in the kitchen. But mostly, he desperately misses Dee (right) who died in her sleep two-and-a-half years ago
Barry and Dee (who had her own successful career as a novelist, under her married name and Ariana Franklin) were married for 53 years and shared many an extremely cross word.
‘You hear of old couples celebrating 50 years of marriage and never a cross word? I can’t understand that.
‘I like someone I can argue with and Dee really knew how to make me lose my temper. She was very, very skilful at it. And she never apologised and she’d never admit she was wrong. Ever. She was an extraordinary manipulator.
'But she was also quite remarkable — a bit special and I wanted people to know that.’
So he wrote an extremely touching and often funny memoir (See You In The Morning — his 20th book) about Dee and their roller-coaster marriage.
'She was an extraordinary manipulator': Barry and Dee (pictured together) had a roller-coaster relationship, with Dee knowing exactly how to make her husband lose his temper
It charts their relationship from when they met as young journalists on Fleet Street in 1957 through a disastrous first two years of marriage living on cauliflower cheese and arguing constantly (‘It was very dismal — we didn’t really know each other’) and then 51 rather better years, two beloved daughters, three grandsons, two hugely successful careers — he as a TV presenter and film buff, she as an award-winning novelist, to her final illness and sudden death.
They fought about anything and everything — from board games (Barry admits he would invariably storm off), to who’d pinched whose cigarettes, to Michelle Pfeiffer, about whom Barry clearly banged on a bit too much.
‘She got really, really annoyed when I kept saying how lovely Michelle Pfeiffer was. She thought I’d fallen in love with her. And I hadn’t. I just thought Michelle Pfeiffer was particularly lovely. Which, of course, she is.’
Meeting attractive women was a necessary evil of the job. ‘I’ve met some extremely beautiful woman,’ he says. ‘I’m quite sure I came back from interviewing Sophia Loren or Brigitte Bard-ot [here he slips into a sexy French accent] raving about how good-looking they were. But that’s as far as it went.’
There was, however, a small incident when an alarmingly well-oiled Barry — then in his pre-TV days and working as a journalist for the Daily Mail, met Princess Anne.
‘I’d had a lot to drink — Christ knows how much. And I just got it into my head that obviously I was the only person she’d really want to talk to. So I kind of buttonholed her and never let go. I chatted her up all night.
Barry and Dee, who were married for 53 years, met as young journalists on Fleet Street in 1957. Above, the couple marry in 1957
‘I can’t remember what we were talking about, but she was very attractive with a very nice smile and I do remember asking where she’d got her dress from, because I thought I’d like to buy one for Diana.’
And? ‘She refused to tell me! Anyway, needless to say, the next morning when I woke up, Jesus, the alcoholic remorse! I didn’t have the nerve to go in — I called in sick. The only saving grace was that she didn’t seem to have complained — she seemed genuinely amused.’
And, er, if Princess Anne walked in here now? ‘Oh God!’ he goes quite pink, more than half a century on. ‘I’m sure she wouldn’t have the faintest idea who I was. And I’m hardly going to say: “Hi there, the last time we met I chatted you up all night.” No thanks!’
While Dee had always wanted to be a successful novelist and worked doggedly towards her goal, Barry’s career was a bit more, well, accidental.
It was only when he left the Mail that he found his way into occasional radio and television appearances and, in 1972, started hosting BBC1’s Film 72.
And all that nearly came to an abrupt end when Paul Fox, then controller of BBC1 accused Barry of wearing a wig on his show and went berserk, shouting: ‘I won’t have wigs on my channel, get rid of him.’
The couple had two beloved daughters Emma and Samantha (left), three grandsons Charlie, Harry and Bertie (right) and two hugely successful careers
While Barry most definitely wasn’t wearing a wig (and nipped off to get his fabulously bouffant hair trimmed immediately), it turns out Sean Connery was, for years and years. ‘Oh yes, Sean was completely bald on top. He wore a toupee in all the Bond films, but only for the movies — whenever he came into my studio he wasn’t wearing his rug.
‘But they were good rugs. Of course they were. Often back then, toupees would sit up a bit at the back, but his didn’t. I think they cost a bob or two, but for God’s sake, if you’re a movie star and you can’t afford a decent toupee. Just think, without his rug it could have been an entirely different career.'
Barry’s career, meanwhile, went up and up. His show was adored. He was one of the Beeb’s megastars and, quite a long time ago, was paid a substantial amount.
But he never properly relaxed into it. ‘I was never quite happy with the way the programme turned out. Everything I’d ever written sounded so much better in my head than when it came out of my mouth or when it was down on paper. It never seemed to have quite the impact I’d been hoping for.
‘Anyone can do television adequately; there’s no great skill. But I put a lot of effort into making it look like it was effortless.’
He also refused point blank to be overly impressed by the endless stream of movie stars he met over the years.
Barry forged a successful career as a TV presenter and film buff. He worked for the Daily Mail, before finding his way into occasional radio and television appearances. In 1972, he started hosting BB1's Film 72
‘I was never, ever starstruck and I refused to kowtow to them. I’ve seen bimbos, allegedly journalists, of both sexes drooling at the thought they were going to interview Harrison Ford or Tom Hanks.
‘You can’t do this! You can’t go in there awestricken! I always paid the stars the compliment of treating them as my equals, but no more.
‘You can’t do this! You can’t go in there awestricken! I always paid the stars the compliment of treating them as my equals, but no more.
‘Some of them are very nice, but there’s no reason to be in awe of them simply because they make a living pretending to be someone else.’
Among the ‘nice ones’ he’d include Diana Rigg (who once stood guard outside a ladies’ loo for him when he was caught short), Laurence Olivier, Brigitte Bardot (‘the sexiest creature the movies had ever known’) Jodie Foster, Kenneth Branagh and, of course, the lovely Miss Pfeiffer.
The less nice ones were Peter Sellers (‘a liar’), Arnold Schwarzenegger (‘an ass’), Mel Gibson, Bruce Willis (‘a fairly considerable plonker’) the list goes on and on.
Meanwhile, as Barry jetted around the world pressing the flesh, Dee and the girls were at home, always ready to cut him down to size if he got a bit big-headed.
‘She was always up, sitting in her chair, however late it was, waiting for me to get home safely.’
Barry has met streams of celebrities during his career, but insists he has never been starstruck. His list of 'nice' celebrities includes Brigitte Bardot (left), Diana Rigg (right), Laurence Olivier and Jodie Foster
Today the chair is empty. Barry may be 80, but he looks much younger. His hair is so full and bouncy it could still pass for a wig, his skin seems to have thrived on 60 years of heavy smoking (‘I’ve got an e-cigarette, but it hasn’t worked yet’) and his body is slim and lean.
‘For 30 years I used to get up every morning, EVERY MORNING! and jog for three miles. God it was boring. So bloody boring. All I could think was: “Oh Christ, I wish it was over.” I gave it up when I started feeling twinges in my knees and hips. For Christ’s sake, I was doing it to keep fit, not cripple myself!’
Now he walks, ‘but not as much as I should and never for the sake of it because it’s good for me’.
Mentally, he feels ‘great, other than remembering names’. And, right on cue, gets into a tizz telling an anecdote about The Sound Of Music.
He recalls: ‘Christopher Whatsisname really didn’t like it. He said to me: “Christ, Barry, it’s just a thousand nuns.” He wasn’t happy in it at all. He was greatly overshadowed by Julie Andrews.
‘Oh what’s his bloody name? Jesus, he was the male star. Oh come on, snap into it. It’ll come to me in a minute. Oh come on. It’s ridiculous. Old age, old age! Arggh!’ He gives up with an exasperated smile. [It was Plummer, Christopher Plummer.]
‘Oh what’s his bloody name? Jesus, he was the male star. Oh come on, snap into it. It’ll come to me in a minute. Oh come on. It’s ridiculous. Old age, old age! Arggh!’ He gives up with an exasperated smile. [It was Plummer, Christopher Plummer.]
Arnold Schwarzenegger ('an ass') and Peter Sellers ('a liar') are among celebrities on Barry's 'less nice' list
He might forget the odd name — don’t we all? — but otherwise his mind is sharp and his memory deep, particularly when it comes to his shoddy treatment by the BBC in 1998 when, feeling undervalued, he jumped ship to Sky TV after 26 years and no one organised a leaving do.
‘I never felt very cross about it, but Diana was absolutely livid. She was spitting mad. She was like that, always much crosser on my behalf.’
When Barry and Dee weren’t arguing, or winding each other up or defending each other, they were laughing, or joking, or reading books in silence in restaurants.
Barry, whose memoir See You In The Morning is published next week, says he would never consider sharing his life with anyone else
‘We always took a book each out to dinner. I’ve never understood why other people don’t do the same thing. Eating, drinking and reading are three of the four great pleasures in life and the only ones you can do in public.’ Goodness.
Such was their bond, they both had living wills, agreeing never to let each other ‘linger’. ‘Diana used to collect sleeping pills, just in case she developed Alzheimer’s, but I never found her stash. God knows where they are now.’
So does he have his own plan now? Would he consider Dignitas? ‘I don’t know. It would be nice if someone would pop round with a pillow. My dread is living too long and being a burden on the kids. That’s the only dread I have.’
And finally, would he ever consider sharing his life with anyone else?
‘Good God, no! It took two years for Diana and I to make our relationship work. At my age? No, thank you very much. God Almighty, the idea of someone else living with me. No! I couldn’t contemplate that at all.’
Barry Norman is twinkly, good company and a bit of a flirt. But he is also fearlessly brave. His grief is crippling, but he refuses to be bowed.
‘I miss her desperately, but feeling sorry for yourself is awful. Totally self-defeating. If moments of self-pity creep up I just say: “Oh snap out of it! Come on.” And I do. The worst thing I could do is start crying, because that develops into self-pity and then you’re lost.
‘Anyway, Diana would have hugely disapproved. And of course she always knew best.’
Barry Norman’s memoir See You In The morning is published next week by Doubleday at £18.99. To order a copy at £16.99 (p&p free), call 0844 472 4157.
Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-2427311/Film-critic-Barry-Norman-reveals-really-thinks-stars-hes-met.html#ixzz2fWFKZThU
Follow us: @MailOnline on Twitter | DailyMail on Facebook
