I'm currently devouring Rupert Everett's delicious second volume of memoirs, Vanished Years. It's scandalously funny. Everett writes like a dream, damn him, but it's his candor, not his skill, that makes his memoirs so hilarious. Disarmingly, Everett is perhaps most candid about himself.
Parents should be judged on their parenting, not on their sexuality. If I were a kid living in care, I'd much rather have two dads who want me, love me and work two and half years to prove to some strangers that they can care for me than a mother and a father whose lives I'm simply a part of.
What is the result of all of broad, sweeping generalities about homosexuality in our public discourse? I believe that all people will be damaged by this kind of talk. The human race, far and wide, will not be able to think in complex ways.
Rupert Everett has spoken with the grace of a toddler throwing a brick. In an interview with the British Sunday Times, he said, among many things, that he "can't think of anything worse than being brought up by two gay dads."
It seems that you, Elton John, and George Michael can't skip a day without such pithy nonsense running from your mouths. However, in this particular case, you were talking about me, my parter, our kids, and all the other LGBT families out there.
Pygmalion is one of Bernard Shaw's best works, but it is clearly in the shadow of My Fair Lady. It's lovely to revisit this comic romance sans music; but it's a shame they didn't come up with any particular reason for doing so.
There aren't many people working in films right now who have the mastery of droll, deadpan humor that Bill Nighy possesses. So Wild Target should be right up his alley. It is. Unfortunately, that alley is mostly a dead-end affair.
"If you are openly gay, the masses can be asses and sometimes can't get past the fact that that's how someone lives their private life," said Batt, who has been with his partner, Tom Cianfichi, for 21 years. "Some actors have to make a choice."