The Great Debate

The Great Debate–Vivien Leigh, Laurence Olivier and one of the most famous romances of the 20th C.

Posted October 2, 2008 from vivandlarry.com

While browsing videos on youtube a couple days ago, I was struck by a comment on an interview Laurence Olivier did with 60 Minutes in 1982. This was said comment:

Sure jerked Vivien Leigh around– ” But she was mentally ill…”– what a stereotypical dismissal of a human being. Abraham Lincoln was “mentally ill”. So was Winston Churchill. SO many others.
This is an interview of Olivier– but Vivien got a stereotyped back of the hand from 60 minutes with that glib dismissal.

Sorry, person who left that comment, but I’m going to use you as an example. Www.vivandlarry.com is about just that–Vivien Leigh AND Laurence Olivier–so I thought it would be interesting to have a sort of open forum about them as individuals and as a couple. I don’t mean to get on a soap box,and I know everyone has their own opinion, but I’ll share mine based on what I’ve read/watched/talked about with others and the perspective I’ve formed in doing so, and then maybe other people would like to share theirs. :)

+++++++

First, I know Vivien Leigh and Laurence Olivier did not have a happy ending, I know there were a lot of problems in their marriage including Vivien’s bipolar disorder; and I think their problems were heightened due to the fact that they were both extremely creative and successful people in a cut-throat business, and they were both work-a-holics. I know it wasn’t easy, it wasn’t smooth sailing, and neither of them were perfect people. Perhaps they were destructive to each other in that relationship and perhaps I’m just a romantic, but I can’t help but honestly think that they really were soul mates and they never quite got over each other. I mean 20 years of marriage in Hollywood is like a lifetime for “normal” people. That in itself has always set them apart for me from most of the couples in the business both from the past and today.

What I don’t understand is when I see people on message boards or youtube–wherever–saying that he was a bad choice for her, he never loved her, he was a jerk for leaving her because she was ill, etc. He stayed with Vivien for so much longer than a lot of people would have given their circumstance (both because of their professions and their personalities, and also because treatment for mental illness in the 1940s and 50s was so primitive that Vivien really couldn’t have gotten the proper treatment she needed even if she DID totally comply with doctors’ orders). But more than that, she loved him; she chose to pursue him and they both chose to leave their respective spouses for each other–something he surely wouldn’t have done if he wasn’t absolutely over the top for her because he was from a totally religious background and even after he did leave Jill Esmond he felt guilty. So how do any of us, as fans of either or both of them, who never knew them in real life, have the right to judge either of them or their actions? And if we are going to judge, why does there seem to be such a bias view against Laurence Olivier? She chose him, he meant so much to her and she never let people shoot him down in her presence even after it was all over. So why do so many feel the need to berate him?

It sure seems to me that even though Vivien was the one who actually had the mental illness, Larry also suffered with her as being the one person who was closest to her and knew her better than everyone else, and certainly he knew her better than any of us who just know about their lives via books do or ever will. Only they knew for certain everything that went on in their relationship. Only they can attest to the feelings they each had regarding each other and regarding the break up of their marriage (and well, they’re both dead). Certainly there must have been bitterness and regrets on both parts–Larry even admitted that he always felt responsible some how for Vivien’s troubles and it was impossible for him to think otherwise. But I don’t blame him for leaving. As Jean Simmons told him when he was trying to decide whether to ask for a divorce or not, why should he sacrifice his happiness for the sake of someone else’s? In my opinion, just because he left her, it doesn’t mean he ever stopped caring for her or even loving her. It doesn’t mean he was a jerk because he left her when she was ill and needed him. They were both unhappy in the end. In fact from everything I’ve read, it doesn’t seem like he ever really got over her.

I’ve recently been doing research about going to see the Olivier Archive at the British Library. In doing so, I was shown the link of the holdings in the collection where you can see what sorts of things are in the Archive. Among the things Larry Olivier saved are multiple photo albums, including several of just Vivien Leigh photos/studio portraits/etc. He also saved press clippings about Vivien up until the 1980s. This struck me as wonderful and it warmed my heart to read this. As you know, they divorced in 1960 and Vivien passed away in 1967. So the fact that he kept tabs on her even years after she died speaks a lot about his feelings for her, in my opinion. Don’t you think that if he didn’t care about her, or if he stopped caring all together after their break up, he would have somehow disposed of all that Vivien-related ephemera instead of keeping it? This archive also goes to show that there is a LOT about their relationship that most of us who haven’t had the opportunity to look through all of this stuff aren’t aware of. Sadly, as author Terry Coleman told me via email, most of this stuff (as well as the other half that Suzanne Farrington has in her possession) has never been published. So far, only Terry Coleman has published a book after having had access to that material, and his biography on Olivier, though it doesn’t quite get to the bottom of who he was as a person, is the only one that has gone that much in depth to the obsession and passion of their relationship based on actual evidence. So I think that while there are some really good biographies on both Vivien Leigh and Laurence Olivier (my personal favorites would be the Felix Barker one, the Hugo Vickers one, the Coleman one and the Alan Dent one), I really don’t think any of them has told the complete story.

Furthermore, both Olivier and Leigh were extremely private people in real life. Unlike some people today, they didn’t go around announcing that they had sex in the limo on the way to the awards show or anything like that. There was an air of mystery about them and they only let the public see certain aspects of their relationship. I really respect people who keep the details of their private lives private as much as they can, especially when they’re famous, and I think more people should take hints from these old Hollywood couples (see Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward–RIP Paul). Laurence Olivier never liked doing interviews, and even when he did so them, he was only willing to say so much about his relationship–especially what went wrong–with Vivien Leigh. In several TV interviews he makes it plain that he doesn’t wish to talk about her problems, that it’s hard for him to talk about it, even 20 years after she died it was still hard for him. I think him not talking about it showed a lot more respect to her than telling the whole world exactly what happened between them. As a couple, the Oliviers kept Vivien’s illness as much from the public as they could. Though he did talk about their problems in Confessions of an Actor, he never went out and wrote a tell-all book trashing her name and her memory. In fact if I remember correctly, I seem to remember reading something about him being angry when Anne Edwards published her Vivien biography because she was the first one to come out and say Vivien Leigh was bipolar. I know their marriage was a rocky one by anyone’s account, and the end of it was hard on both of them. As Lauren Bacall said about their relationship: “It was heaven the first 10 years, hell the second. Now it was over. He felt such concern for her and pain at the ending of it all, but he knew he had to get away. He wouldn’t survive if he didn’t.” I’m sure that for a long time Larry harbored mixed feelings. Guilt obviously, he admitted as much, probably bitterness, anger, sadness, everything. But I also think that in time all of those negative emotions did blow away and even though he remarried and had the family he always wanted, I think it’s a total credit to him that he could look back after all those years and say about Vivien, “That was it. That was real love.”

So in conclusion, just because a TV program or anything similar glossed over his relationship with Vivien or dismissed her or her illness with a “stereotypical backhand,” that doesn’t mean that Laurence Olivier ever did the same. I personally love them both, and I just don’t think it’s fair that Larry gets all the blame a lot of times. Relationships are a two-way street.

FIN. Sorry that was so long! Ahhh! But I am super curious to know what other fans think of that whole situation. I always find it an interesting and often times complicated discussion because both Olivier and Vivien Leigh were complicated people (but that’s why I think their story is so interesting)!

From http://vivandlarry.wordpress.com/2008/10/02/the-great-debate-vivien-leigh-laurence-olivier-and-one-of-the-most-famous-romances-of-the-20th-c/.

Viv and Larry

Was I a monster to Vivien? Or did we truly love each other? Here's the scoop from a sister site of vivandlarry.com, http://community.livejournal.com/theoliviers/tag/laurence+olivier.

Posted 11 July 2008 @ 08:14 am

RIP Laurence Olivier

"My stage successes have provided me with the greatest moments outside myself. My film successes have given me, personally, the greatest moments within myself."--Laurence Olivier

"When we were doing Private Lives in 1932, none of us thought Laurence Olivier would really become a star in anything except the bedroom."--Noel Coward

Laurence Olivier died when I was five years old. Of course I don't remember this happening, I didn't really come to know and appreciate his talents until i was 18. I had learned about him through reading about Vivien Leigh after seeing Gone with the Wind. I had recognized his name but didn't know who he was, what he looked like, or what his deal was. I have to confess that at first, I didn't really "get it." He was good looking but I'd seen better, and here was this amazingly gorgeous woman who everyone claimed found the love of a lifetime in this guy.

It was when I happened to catch Wuthering Heights on TCM ahortly after that I said, "Okay, now I get it!" And boy did I ever! That amazing voice, those dark, brooding, sleepy eyes, those chiseled facial features. What was there not to get? He had great presence on screen even if he wasn't the best actor starting off. Then I started to read about Larry as an actor and as a man on his own and I came to appreciate him even more. I can definitely see why the ladies swooned over him and why even some men wanted to be with him (whether he bated for both teams, I'm not really sure).

I appreciate his patience with Vivien Leigh and his love for her, his drive to be not only a great actor, but the BEST actor, and his general Britishness. He was in love with his job his whole life and it did pay off. Today he is known as the greatest stage actor of his generation. I think as a film actor he developed his talents over the years and he gave some amazing performances! Just look at him in Wuthering Heights, in Rebecca, in Hamlet or Richard III or The Entertainer or Marathon Man--he is quite fun to watch. And, he's super special because he was the youngest actor to ever be knighted in England (1947 at the age of 40), and the only actor to be given a Peerage (go him!)

Though he was a top notch actor, he was terribly flawed. He could be awfully arrogant, selfish, and some people say he wasn't interested in many other people. But he was also very shy when not performing, epseciall y with the press, and many of his friends say he was one of the funniest people they'd known. It doesn't seem that many biographers have been able to get to "know" him. But I think that's part of his mystery, that he's such an enigma. I do believe Vivien knew him completely. He once told her in a letter during their marriage that she was the only person in the world who could make hideously selfish him love anyone more than he did himself. But she loved him and he adored her. It's funny because when i talk about them (or write about them, I should say since no one in real life really gets it) it's never just "Laurence Olivier" or "Vivien Leigh," it always ends up being 'Viv and Larry," because even though I never knew them, I always think of them as a package deal.

But anyway, Larry had an awful lot of fans and has inspired many of today's leading actors from Anthony Hopkins to Ralph Fiennes to Kevin Spacey. He was a giant in the acting world, and a damn good looking man in general. The original Heathcliff, the Original Darcy, the original...awesome.

Yes, over the years he has beaten out the likes of Cary Grant and other fellow British luminaries of the screen to become my favorite British gentleman/male model/adorable guy.

I heart you, Larry. I wish this were 70 years ago so I could write you a fan letter.

RIP
Laurence Kerr Olivier
May 22, 1907--July 11, 1989

Info. on My Most Famous Flame...

A Vivien Leigh FAQ:

Q When was Vivien Leigh born?
A Wednesday November 5th 1913, at 7pm in her parents home in Darjeeling India.
She would be 84 if she was alive today.

Q How did Vivien Leigh die?
A She died as a result of chronic pulmonary tuberculosis in her home in London on the evening of Friday July 7th 1967, at the age of 53.

Q What was Vivien's real name?
A Vivian Mary Hartley.

Vivien's original spelling was Vivian, a common unisex name of Latin/French origin that means "alive, lively, full of life". The spelling was changed to vivien at age 21, after her first success on stage in The Mask of Virtue.
She took on the stage name 'Vivien Leigh' instead of Vivien Hartley (nee) or Vivien Holman, her married name. She also considered using 'Susan Stanley', and 'Averill Maugham' as stage names.
Leigh is pronounced 'lee'.

Q What did her father do?
A Born in England, Ernest Hartley was involved in trading, and worked and lived in India from the age of 22. His favourite pastimes were hunting and horseracing.

Q What did her mother do?
A Born in India, Gertrude Yackjee was an active housewife and traveller. Her favourite pastime was playing golf. Once the Hartley family fortune ran out, she created a beauty business 'The Academy of Beauty Culture' in 1934, which she continued to run for three decades.

Q Did Vivien have any siblings?
A Her mother gave birth to twins when Vivien was still an infant, neither survived.

Q Did Vivien act as a child?
A Not officially, but she appeared on stage in plays while growing up in Darjeeling, India.
She also acted on stage in school at the Convent of the Sacred Heart in England between the ages of 7 and 14, primarily in works of Shakespeare.

Q Did Vivien have any childhood idols?
A Her acting idol was theatre star George Robey.
She liked to read and enjoyed Lewis Carroll, Rudyard Kipling, and Hans Christian Anderson.
Stage/screen actor Laurence Olivier remained her mentor, idol, and love of her life from the age of 22 on.

Q Did she know anyone famous as a child?
A She went to school with Maureen O'Sullivan, also an actress in Hollywood films of the 1930's on - later the mother of Mia Farrow. The two school friends acted together once in 1938 in the film A Yank at Oxford.

Q Did Vivien have any nicknames?
A "Viv" is a common nickname for Vivien .
Close friends and family called her "Vivling".

Q What colour were Vivien's eyes?
A Blue-green (violet). Which is why, if you look carefully at her films, her eyes change from blue to green in different scenes, appearing as if they match the dress or mood she's in.
This is the result of their natural colour, the film stock, as well as lens filters that enhance specific shades on screen. In the case of Gone With the Wind - these filters are used to bring out set details and costumes, but they also pick up and enhance eye colour. Since Vivien's eyes were naturally violet, either the colour blue or green could become more prominant depending on the surrounding colours or the outfit she wore.

Q Did she train professionally to become an actress?
A Yes. At RADA (The Royal Academy of Dramatic Art) in London beginning at age 19.

Q Did Vivien have talents beyond acting on stage and screen?
A She spoke both French and German, allowing her to dub her own films when they were translated to foreign markets.
One of her greatest acting skills was crying on cue. She could do this repeatedly for many takes, shedding real tears for the camera.

Q What were Vivien's hobbies/favourite pastimes?
A Crossword puzzles.
Other favorites included mahjong, canasta, chinese checkers, jigsaw puzzles, and studying languages (French, German, Russian).
She enjoyed reading - one of her favorite authors as an adult was Charles Dickens.
In later years she was devoted to gardening.

Q What were Vivien's likes/dislikes?
A Likes:

* Cats. She had several - mainly siamese.
* Water. She loved being near water and always chose homes close to lakes.
* Parties. A natural at entertaining guests.
* Smoking. A bad habit which did little to help her physical condition.
* Gin and soda with lemon.

Dislikes:

* Illness. Reoccuring phases of manic depression.
* Reviews. Critics that were too negative.
* Fear. Not succeeding in a new role.
* Flying. A life long dislike of planes, but took many trips for her career.
* Isolation. Being left alone.


Q Who was Vivien married to?
A Vivien married Leigh Holman, a barrister, in 1932 at the age of 19. He was 32 at the time - 13 years older than her. They were married for 8 years until 1940. Leigh looked coincidentally like Leslie Howard/Ashley Wilkes - the one man Scarlett O'Hara couldn't have. Leigh Holman remained her friend for life after their divorce and they continued to corespond once she became involved with Laurence Olivier. She took the name 'Leigh' from him for her stage name of 'Vivien Leigh' in 1935, although up to this time her married name was Mrs.Vivian Leigh Holman.

Vivien married Laurence Oliver on August 31st, 1940 at the age of 26. He was 33 at the time - 7 years her elder. They were married for 20 years until 1960. Olivier was the love of her life, and in terms of Hollywood couples, they were the talk of the town - both nominated for academy awards in 1939. They had many good years as well as difficult times, never successfully having children as a couple. At the end of both their lives, each claimed that their marriage and relationship was the most valued.

Q Did she have any contact with royalty?
A Vivien was presented at court to King George V and Queen Mary in June of 1934 at the age of 20, several months before her first screen test. Several stage performances by the Oliviers were attended by royals in numerous countries.

Q Did Vivien have any children?
A Yes. A daughter named Suzanne - now in her 60's - who was from her marriage with Leigh Holman. Suzanne was born October 10th 1933, shortly before Vivien's 20th birthday.
Vivien suffered two miscarriages while married to Laurence Olivier.
In 1942, David O. Selznick considered the publicity value of casting Suzanne as the young Jane in Jane Eyre staring Orson Welles and Joan Fontaine, it went to Peggy Ann Garner instead. Suzanne also trained at RADA when she was 18, though she only appeared on stage briefly.
Vivien has 3 grandsons, Neville, Jonathan, and Rupert, born early 1960's.
Vivien also has at least 3 great-grand-daughters; Amy, Ashua, and Sophie.

Q How did Vivien become famous?
A She appeared in the costume play, The Mask of Virtue, at age 21 in London and became an overnight success.
Vivien had appeared in 3 minor British films by this point in 1935.
6 months later, she signed a contract with Alexander Korda for 50 thousand pounds - with the expectation to make 2 films a year for 5 years.

Q What is Vivien Leigh most remembered for?
A Scarlett O'Hara in Gone With the Wind.
Consider by many as the most coveted roll in Hollywood history. Now - as it was then - it's hard to imagine the film with anyone else playing Scarlett (even after numerous actresses tried for the part including Irene Dunne, Claudette Colbert, Joan Crawford, Lana Turner, Lucille Ball, Loretta Young, and Katherine Hepburn).
The search for Scarlett became one of the most publicized talent searches in film history. Casting directors were sent around America, testing over 1000 unknowns.
Vivien's portrayal of Scarlett still today, 60 years later, has countless devoted fans. She seemed born to play that role, and ended up turning Scarlett into screen legend. Vivien received a salary of 25 thousand and no royalties, so playing Scarlett did not make Vivien a fortune. It did however allowed her more control of her later projects.
Blanche Dubois is the other role that Vivien is most remembered for. She excelled in A Streetcar Named Desire both on stage and on screen in 1951.

Q How did Vivien get the role of Scarlett in Gone With the Wind?
A David O. Selznick, the film's producer, 'discovered' Scarlett during the first night of filming (the burning of Atlanta) on December 10th, 1938, when she visited the set, introduced to him by Laurence Olivier and her casting agent. He was struck by what he felt was the 'ideal look' of how he envisioned Scarlett. Screen tests and rehearsals took place the next week and Vivien was told she had won the role on Christmas day at a dinner party at Selznick's home. She practicing a Southern accent for four hours a day during the first weeks of production and her role starting shooting January 1939, taking 122 work days to complete, ending on June 27th. She was 26 years old at the time.

Q What was Vivien's first film?
A Things Are Looking Up in 1934 at the age of 21. (released theatrically in 1935)
She played a school girl and had one line of dialogue which was cut from the film:
"If you are not made headmistress, I shan't come back next term."

Q What was Vivien's last film?
A Ship of Fools in 1964 at the age of 51. (released theatrically in 1965).
She played an aging Southern divorcee on a ship of refugees leaving Mexico.
Her later roles were commonly about a rejected, fading beauty, victimized by the men she loved. Many felt she played variations on an aging Scarlett - as if Scarlett had lived in a different time or place.

Q What was Vivien's favorite of her own films?
A You would think Gone With the Wind, but Vivien resented type-casting as a result of her performance as Scarlett. She felt that the role of Myra in Waterloo Bridge was closer to her heart.

Q How many films did Vivien Leigh make?
A
Twenty.
Her most important performances are in bold.

1. Things Are Looking Up 11. Gone With The Wind
2. The Village Squire 12. Waterloo Bridge
3. Gentleman's Agreement 13. That Hamilton Woman
4. Look Up and Laugh 14. Caesar and Cleopatra
5. Fire Over England 15. Anna Karenina
6. Dark Journey 16. A Streetcar Named Desire
7. Storm in a Teacup 17. (Elephant Walk) unfinished role
8. Twenty-One Days 18. The Deep Blue Sea
9. A Yank at Oxford 19. The Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone
10. St. Martin's Lane 20. Ship of Fools

Q How many Academy Awards did she win?
A Two Best Actress Oscars - one for playing Scarlett in Gone With the Wind in 1939, and one for playing Blanche in A Streetcar Named Desire in 1951.
The only other actresses with two Best Actress Oscars are Katharine Hepburn, Ingrid Bergman, Bette Davis, Olivia de Havilland, Sally Field, Jane Fonda, Luise Rainer, Elizabeth Taylor, and Jodie Foster.
Vivien also received a Tony on Broadway for 'best musical comedy performance' in April 1963, for her role in Tovarich.

Q Can I get Vivien Leigh films - even the early ones - on video tape?
A Yes. Most of her films have been released on video.
The FILMS section mentions if individual films are current available.
The LINKS section has information where to find her videos.

Q How many stage productions did Vivien perform in?
A
Thirty.

1. The Green Sash 16. Antigone
2. The Mask of Virtue 17. A Streecar Named Desire
3. Richard II 18. Caesar and Cleopatra
4. The Happy Hypocrite 19. Antony and Cleopatra
5. Henry VIII 20. The Sleeping Prince
6. Because We Must 21. Twelfth Night
7. Bats in the Belfry 22. Macbeth
8. Hamlet - at Elsinore 23. Titus Andronicus
9. A Midsummer Night's Dream 24. South Sea Bubble
10. Serena Blandish 25. Duel of Angels
11. Romeo and Juliet 26. Look After Lulu
12. The Doctor's Dilemma 27. Lady of the Camellias
13. The Skin of Of Our Teeth 28. Tovarich
14. The School for Scandal 29. La Contessa
15. Richard III 30. Ivanov

Q Were there any films or plays that didn't go past initial planning?
A Cyrano (1937) with Charles Laughton as Cyrano de Bergerac, Vivien as Roxanne.
Hamlet (1938) on stage in London acting opposite Leslie Howard.
Wuthering Heights (1939) playing Isabella, co-starring Laurence Olivier.
(Vivien wanted the role of Cathy but didn't get it - she made GWTW instead).
Rebecca (1939) directed by Alfred Hitchcock, co-starring Laurence Olivier - a role Vivien regretted not getting. Her screen tests for Hitchcock still exist.
Union Pacific (1939) directed by Cecille B. de Mille, co-starring Joel McCrea.
Caesar and Cleopatra (December 1940) opposite Cedric Hardwicke on stage.
Henry V (1943) Olivier's impressive film, which he also starred and produced. Vivien was to play the small role of Katharine, but was not allowed due to her contract with David O. Selznick.
Cyrano de Bergerac (1947) a film version with Vivien and Olivier.
Elephant Walk (1953) partially shot, then replaced with Elizabeth Taylor due to illness. You can still see Vivien in several long shots in the finished film.
Macbeth (1955) with Vivien as Lady Mabeth - a role she excelled in on stage at Stratford.
Tiny Alice and A Delicate Balance (1967) both plays by Edward Albee - planned the year she died.
Tchaikovsky (1967) a biographical film with Vivien as Nadezhda von Meck, a coresspondent of Tchaikovsky's.
Cakes and Ale (1967) by Somerset Maugham, as Rosie Driffield.
Far from the Madding Crowd (1967) as Bathsheba Everdene.

Q Are there any Vivien Leigh collectibles?
A There are many, many Gone With the Wind collectables that have Scarlett all over them, enough to fill a warehouse, plus you can buy Vivien Leigh's autograph and the ocassional personal item at auctions. There are also posters, photographs and postcards - not to mention several books on her life as well as the video tapes of her films.
Not enough?
The LINKS section mentions other things as well.

Q Do you have any collectibles?
A I have some films and books.

Q Would you like more Vivien Leigh material?
A I would like to hear from people that have studio or candid photos of Vivien - as well as articles or additional material. It would also be nice to hear from the Farrington's.

Q What is the most valuable Vivien Leigh collectable?
A Perhaps Vivien's Oscar that she received for portraying Scarlett O'Hara.
Sotheby's in New York sold it to a private collector in December of 1993 for five hundred and sixty three thousand dollars US ($563,000). Costumes and accessories from Gone With the Wind and her other films are of great collector value.
Autographed photos commonly sell for several hundred dollars.

Q Why did you create The Vivien Leigh Pages?
A For the challenge of putting everything together.
It is dedicated to her life's work and memory.

Suggestions for additions or information are welcome.

The Vivien Leigh Pages
Copyright © 1997/98

"My taste includes both snails and oysters..."

Larry gay? Of course he was.

The scene was the firstclass dining car of the Brighton Belle on a summer morning in 1964, an era when it was still possible in Britain to travel by train with some degree of civilised elegance.

The tables were draped with laundered, snowy-white cloths and adorned by miniature gold standard lamps with discreet pink shades. Orange curtains hung at the windows, and the walnut-panelled carriage walls were mounted with the royal coat of arms.

"The usual, dear boy," announced the man opposite me to the hovering steward. No one needed to enquire about the identity of my table companion. He was instantly recognisable to everyone as the most celebrated actor in the world: Sir Laurence Olivier, soon to become The Right Honourable Baron Olivier of Brighton.

"I'm very sorry, Sir Laurence," stammered the steward, "but I'm afraid the kippers are off today."

"Off?" The word exploded with such force and menace that the carriage fell silent. "There are no kippers?" asked the great man, his voice rising histrionically. His arms rose also, in supplication to invisible gods. "Great heavens! How can this be possible?"

We all gazed back in wild surprise as the unmistakable tones that had rung through my childhood, urging: "Cry God for Harry, England and St George", now wrung our emotions beyond endurance over the absence of his cherished kippers from the menu.

Sir Laurence's outburst had immediate effect. The Brighton Belle's departure was delayed while a crisis conference took place on the platform. Porters ran panting into view. Trolleys were heaved. As if by magic, a crate of kippers materialised from thin air.

"My darling boy!" cried Olivier, pulling the startled steward into a bear-like embrace and planting a loud, smacking kiss on both his cheeks. The white-coated youth turned slightly pink but showed no other sign of thinking this at all unusual.

As the 55-minute journey to London got under way, I became uncomfortably aware that Olivier had switched his attention from the steward to myself. Every time I looked up from the morning paper, I found his eyes, dark and hypnotic, trained on my 23-yearold face like a searchlight.

Not a word was spoken between us. Had it been any other man, I would have construed such intense interest as sexual. But the cinema's brooding and virile Heathcliff? The great actor who had made passionate love on screen to Marilyn Monroe? The husband of three famous actresses, and the father, in time, of four children? Surely not.

I was so unnerved by that long, silent stare that on arrival at Victoria, I invited myself for a drink at the Chelsea home of one of Olivier's close friends and contemporaries, the actor and playwright Emlyn Williams.

Emlyn, who was also married, with two sons, was bisexual. In his youth, he had been the lover of Olivier's rival in the art of great acting, Sir John Gielgud, before the latter's arrest in 1953 for importuning in a public lavatory.

So diverted was the mischievous Emlyn by the rumours of the homosexual, sado-masochistic adventures of a third great actor, Sir Michael Redgrave, that Williams once accosted him on Waterloo Bridge with the words, "Michael Redgrave, I'll be bound!"

No doubts

As the story of my encounter on the Brighton Belle unfolded, a broad and delighted grin spread across Emlyn's puckish face. "We all know Larry," he guffawed. "Do I think he is sexually attracted to men?" He let out a snort of laughter. "Is the Pope Catholic?"

Yet for more than 40 years, the truth about Olivier's bisexuality has been subject to denial, prejudice and an extraordinary kind of censorship.

All this changed dramatically last weekend when Olivier's 76-year-old widow, Dame Joan Plowright, a woman of singular honesty and common sense, ended years of circumspection about the sexually ambiguous private life of her late husband in a remarkable interview with Sue Lawley on the radio programme Desert Island Discs.

Dame Joan, herself an acclaimed actress, who was married to Olivier for 28 years, responded calmly to Lawley's references to allegations of homosexual liaisons in the great actor's life.

"If a man is touched by genius, he is not an ordinary person," said Plowright. "He doesn't lead an ordinary life. He has extremes of behaviour which you understand and you just find a way not to be swept overboard by his demons. You kind of stand apart. You continue your own work and your absorption in the family. And those other things finally don't matter."

These infinitely wise words have waited many years to be spoken. They bring to an end a bizarre cover-up of the truth about Olivier.

The 'demons' to which Dame Joan alluded began early in the life of Laurence Kerr Olivier, born on May 22, 1907, at 26 Wathen Road, Dorking, in Surrey. He was the third and youngest child of the Reverend Gerard Kerr Olivier, an impoverished Anglican priest, and his wife, Agnes Crookenden.

Larry's adored mother died of a brain tumour aged 48, when he was only 12. "She was my entire world," he said later. "I cried just at first, but never again. I felt it appallingly deeply."

He made his first appearance on the stage aged 13, in the leading female role of Katherina (the shrew) in a school production of Shakespeare's The Taming Of The Shrew. Larry was so effective as this most coquettish of girls that he was singled out for lavish praise by the greatest actress of the day, Dame Ellen Terry, who said she had only ever seen one woman who had played the part better.

From the beginning of Olivier's life, there was confusion over his sexual identity. The most intimate friend of his youth was the actor Denys Blakelock, also the son of a clergyman, who was homosexual.

Writing years later of their relationship, Olivier admitted he "embraced this unaccustomed happiness with an innocent young gratitude".

The night before Olivier's first marriage, in 1930, to the actress Jill Esmond - a strange coupling, for she was hardly marriage material and ended her life as a lesbian, living with another woman - Denys Blakelock, who was to be his best man, climbed into Olivier's bed, where Blakelock's hands "strayed". Olivier admitted this but insisted the full sex act did not take place.

Just before his marriage to Esmond, Olivier met the reigning enfant terrible of West End theatre Noël Coward, who gave him a contract for £50 a week to play the second male lead, supporting Coward and Gertrude Lawrence in Coward's new play Private Lives.

At their first meeting, Coward was sitting up in bed wearing Japanese silk pyjamas, finishing his breakfast. He called Olivier "Larry", Olivier called him "Noël", and the two men - Coward was the elder by six-and-a-half years - were soon on familiar terms.

Doubts have been cast on the possibility of a sexual relationship between Coward and Olivier, but as one who was close to "The Master" for the last 13 years of his life, I must beg to differ. My authority is a good one: Coward himself admitted that on his part it was "love at first sight" and that sexual familiarities occurred between them "with some regularity".

"At the age of 23, he was the most staggeringly beautiful creature I ever saw in my life," Coward told me, "but although he was struggling to be what he thought of as 'normal', he had a puppy-like acquiescence to all experiences."

In spite of his liaison with Coward, Olivier's marriage to Jill Esmond went ahead, though it seems likely that she made some sort of pre-marital admission of her own bisexual inclinations.

Their son Tarquin was born on August 21, 1936, but by then the marriage was doomed. Olivier had met not only the feline, green-eyed, 22-year-old actress and beauty Vivien Leigh, who was to be his nemesis, but also his most unlikely homosexual partner, Henry Ainley.

Ainley was a 57-year-old married actor and father, who had appeared with Olivier in the 1936 film of Shakespeare's As You Like It.

Ainley, who was clearly besotted by Olivier, wrote to him as "Larry darling" and "Larry Kin Mine", signing himself, "Your sweet little kitten, Henrietta". In one letter he says: "How Jill must hate me, taking you away from her!"

But by that time, Olivier didn't need to be taken away from his wife. His marriage had died under the sustained onslaught of the ambitious and predatory Vivien Leigh, who waged a determined campaign of seduction.

The late actress Phyllis Konstam, who had appeared with Olivier on Broadway, and who was a friend of mine, told me: "No one could have been more wicked than Vivien. She set out quite deliberately to destroy that marriage, and, of course, she succeeded."

Jill Esmond divorced Olivier for adultery on January 29, 1940, citing Vivien Leigh. Jill was awarded custody of the three-and-a-half-year-old Tarquin. After Vivien's husband, Leigh Holman, had also filed for divorce, citing Larry, she became the second Mrs Laurence Olivier on August 31, 1940.

Even before that, however, during the Hollywood filming of her Oscarwinning role as Scarlett O'Hara in Gone With The Wind, Vivien had exhibited the first symptoms of manic depression, the malady that was to turn her marriage to Larry into a Gothic nightmare.

Olivier's starring role in Alfred Hitchcock's film of Daphne du Maurier's novel Rebecca was like an eerie prophecy of what his life with Leigh would become.

As the handsome, brooding and sexually uncertain Maxim de Winter, haunted by his marriage to an ambitious, promiscuous and wicked beauty, he tells her placid successor, with whom he finds contentment: "You thought I was mad. Perhaps I was. Perhaps I am mad. It wouldn't make for sanity, would it, living with the Devil?"

And a devil is what Vivien increasingly became as her tragic illness developed. Outwardly the Oliviers were the most gilded couple in international show business.

Yet Vivien, plagued by mental breakdown and tortured by professional jealousy at Larry's superior talent, became an alcoholic and a nymphomaniac, often pursuing total strangers as sexual partners.

Continued dalliances

It was small wonder that Olivier continued to turn to men. In 1940, he had met the American comedian and future Hollywood film star Danny Kaye, with whom he had a long and flamboyant relationship. Olivier's official biographer, Terry Coleman, regards it as "unsubstantiated", but I have no doubt that it existed.

The Queen's late aunt, Princess Marina, Duchess of Kent, who was involved with the bisexual and married Kaye for several years, told me quite emphatically that he and Olivier were "épris" ("in love").

And Coward, who was appalled to witness the two men openly exchanging French kisses in public, despised Kaye, whom he habitually referred to as "randy Dan Kaminski" (David Daniel Kaminski was Kaye's real name).

In 1950, when the Oliviers returned to Hollywood for Vivien to film her Oscar-winning role as Blanche du Bois in A Streetcar Named Desire, opposite Marlon Brando, David Niven walked into the garden of their Hollywood mansion and discovered: 'Brando and Larry swimming naked in the pool. Larry was kissing Brando. Or maybe it was the other way around.

"I turned my back to them and went back inside to join Vivien. I'm sure she knew what was going on, but she made no mention of it. Nor did I. One must be sophisticated about such matters in life."

In 1955, with his marriage to Vivien dead in the water, Olivier met the 28-year-old theatre critic Kenneth Tynan, who had been openly disparaging about Leigh's acting abilities.

Both men were officially "straight", yet they formed an intense and passionate relationship which - whether or not it became physical - was certainly homo-erotic in style and content. Tynan's widow, Kathleen, writes: "Both men had in common a need for intimacy and a talent for occasion, for adventure."

Tynan's view of Olivier was: "He's like a blank page and he'll be whatever you want him to be. He'll wait for you to give him a cue, and then he'll try to be that sort of person." This goes a long way towards explaining Larry's fluctuating sexuality.

As Larry's marriage to Vivien reached its final oblivion, Olivier was performing, in Spartacus, the most notorious gay scene Hollywood had yet filmed.

As the Roman General Marcus Crassus, the half-naked Olivier is suggestively bathed by his equally half-naked body-slave (the firmly heterosexual and wildly miscast Tony Curtis).

The scene was regarded as so shocking in 1960 that it was cut from the final film. It was not reinstated until 1991, two years after Olivier's death, when one of his best mimics Sir Anthony Hopkins dubbed his pointedly bisexual dialogue: "Some people like oysters, some people like snails. I like oysters and snails."

Vivien Leigh, arriving at Heathrow airport in a picture hat, was surrounded by reporters. One of them asked: "And how about your private life, Lady Olivier, if one may enquire?' Vivien, with the regal disdain of an empress, replied: 'One may not enquire."

She divorced Olivier on January 6, 1961, devastated that she, one of the all-time great beauties, was being supplanted in his life by Joan Plowright, who - while attractive and an excellent actress - had no claim to beauty.

Larry and Joan married quietly in Wilton, Connecticut, on March 17, 1961. She was to bear him a son, Richard, and two daughters, Tamsin and Julie-Kate.

With Plowright, Olivier was to find a deep inner contentment, a peace of mind and a stability he had never known before. If the 'demons' were not wholly banished, they were certainly sidelined. And if Larry's eye still sometimes strayed in the direction of a handsome young man, Joan had the wisdom, intelligence and tact to ignore it.

After Lord Olivier's death on July 11, 1989, aged 82, from neuromuscular disease and cancer, and his interment in Poet's Corner, Westminster Abbey, his official biographer, Terry Coleman, asked Plowright if he had had homosexual affairs. She replied robustly: "If he did, so what?"

Tarquin Olivier, Larry's elder son, 'was hell-bent on censoring' the homosexual revelations in Coleman's book and attempted to pressure Plowright into withdrawing her permission. She refused, privately remarking that "a man who had been to Eton and in the Guards might be expected to be a little more broad-minded".

As we look forward to celebrating the centenary next May of the birth of Olivier - the greatest actor in living memory - we should also salute the loving intuition and courage of his widow in allowing his complex life to be viewed at last with dispassionate calm and without the distortions of prejudice.

By MICHAEL THORNTON

Trailer for "Spartacus"
dir. Stanley Kubrick 1960

Olivier as Crazed Nazi Dentist Tortures Hoffman

NYTimes Movie Review
Marathon Man (1976)
October 7, 1976

'Marathon Man' Thriller of a Film

By VINCENT CANBY
Published: October 7, 1976

If you were forced at gunpoint to swallow at $16,000 diamond, what would you do? Stall for time by asking for a glass of water? Say you were allergic? Cry? It's not a problem most of us are likely to face. It would seem to be too special to engage our interest at gut level. It's like worrying about what to do with a case of empty Dom Perignon bottles.
Yet when Laurence Olivier, who plays a sadistic ex-Nazi war criminal in "Marathon Man," confronts such a situation, it becomes a matter of universal concern and immense wit in spite of the desperate circumstances.

Szell (Olivier) places the diamond in his mouth and holds it between his front teeth as if it were an unpleasant pill. His eyes glaze slightly at the affront to his position. He pauses. His tongue tentatively touches the gem, but diamonds have no taste. He frowns. He is ordered to swallow. He would sneer but there's a gun aimed at his heart. Like a man forced to jump from the Empire State Building, he closes his eyes and does the deed. The diamond disappears into his gullet. Gulp and gone. What will it do to his ulcer?

Lord Olivier, one of the great ornaments of the English-speaking theater and cinema, helps to make John Schlesinger's "Marathon Man" a film that you won't want to miss, given a strong stomach for bloodshed and graphic torture that includes dental interference of an especially unpleasant sort.

In addition to Lord Olivier's superb performance, "Marathon Man" has several other superior things going for it: Dustin Hoffman as a moody, guilt-ridden, upper-West Side New Yorker, a haunted innocent obsessed with running, pursued by an unknown evil; Roy Scheider and William Devane as members of some sort of super-super Central Intelligence Agency, and the direction of Mr. Schlesinger, who has made a most elegant, bizarre, rococo melodrama out of material that, when you think about it, makes hardly any sense at all.

That's to say that when the lights come up at the end of "Marathon Man" and you start going through the plot, back to front, you're likely to suspect that you've been had. And you have if your only criterion is logic. The William Goldman screenplay, based on his novel, is built upon double-, triple-, and quadruple-crosses that finally cancel themselves out. Instead of logic, the film presents us with a literally breathtaking nightmare that turns out to be, within the film, absolutely true.

The nightmare is that of Babe (Mr. Hoffman), a Columbia graduate student who, for reasons he can't know, is kidnapped by mysterious parties with strange accents who torture him for information he doesn't have. The chief inquisitor is Szell, a notorious former Nazi with a degree in dentistry. "Is it safe?" Szell asks. "What safe?" asks Babe. "Is it safe?" the old Nazi asks again, and starts fiddling with the live nerve in one of Babe's teeth.

When the explanations do start coming, you may feel that "Marathon Man" is a kind of thriller that has run its course. High-level conspiracies really aren't that interesting unless we can get a fix on who is doing what to whom, which is never clear here. Yet the individual details of "Marathon Man," the performances, and the attention given to its physical settings—in New York, Paris and South America—keep one's belief willingly suspended by a wickedly thin thread.

For the first third of the film, Mr. Schlesinger manages to crosscut between two different narratives so effectively that it's almost a disapopintment when they come together, but though the plot is ridiculous, the film is richly fleshed out by character and and an intensifying sense of menace that doesn't rely on tricks. When a fellow, lying back in his hot tub relaxing, is suddenly disturbed by someone trying to break down the door, it's an assassin, not a steam-induced dream.

Which, I suspect, is why "Marathon Man" leaves one feeling comfortably exhausted and not cheated, as does a more serious but equally paranoid political thriller like Francesco Rosi's "Illustrious Corpses." "Marathon Man" hasn't a real idea in its head. It just wants to scare the hell out of you—and it does.


MARATHON MAN, directed by John Schlesinger; screenplay by William Goldman, based on his novel; produced by Robert Evans and Sidney Beckerman; director of photography, Conrad Hall; editor, Jim Clark; music, Michael Small; distributed by Paramount Pictures. Running time: 125 minutes. At Loews State 1, Broadway at 45th Street, and Loews Tower East, Third Avenue near 72d Street. This film has been rated R.
Babe . . . . . Dustin Hottman
Szell . . . . . Laurence Olivier
Doc . . . . . Roy Scheider
Janeway . . . . . William Devane
Elsa . . . . . Marthe Keller
Prof. Blesenthal . . . . . Fritz Weaver
Karl . . . . . Richard Bright
Erhard . . . . . Marc Lawrence
Babe's father . . . . . Allen Joseph
Melendez . . . . . Tito Goya
Szell's brother . . . . . Ben Dova
Rosenbaum . . . . . Lou Gilbert
LeClerc . . . . . Jacques Marin
Chen . . . . . James Wing Woo

Laurence Olivier: A Life.

Acknowledged by critics, the public, and his peers as the greatest actor of his day, Sir Laurence Olivier created a gallery of performances uniquely his own. The one criticism that dogged his career--that he was a "technical" actor, rather than a "feeling" one--stemmed from a chameleon-like ability to alter his looks with makeup and his voice by changing pitch and accent. Examining some of his most noteworthy roles--a blond, brooding Hamlet; stalwart King Henry V; seething, Gypsy-like Heathcliff in "Wuthering Heights"; seedy, down-at-the-heels Archie Rice in "The Entertainer"; arrogant Roman aristocrat in "Spartacus"; Nazi war criminal in "Marathon Man"; malevolent, crookbacked Richard III; and Othello, played in blackface without being the least bit demeaning--confirms his amazing grasp on technique, but one wonders what his detractors were watching when they claimed he lacked feeling. The external, physical attributes of his characters simply formed a self-contained inner theater in which the magnificent actor portrayed his roles.

This stunning documentary/biography, shot in 1982 to commemorate Olivier's 75th birthday, primarily is a wide-ranging interview with London Weekend Television's Melvyn Bragg conducted over a number of weeks in the actor's home, garden, and various theaters. Olivier is alternately surprisingly open (except where he resolutely declines to discuss the physical and mental illnesses of his second wife, Vivien Leigh), sly, and frequently self-deprecating, delighting in telling tales of his foibles and failures more than his lifetime of successes. Artfully interspersed are clips (sometimes frustratingly brief) of his stage and screen performances, newsreels and still photographs, and interviews with such friends and colleagues as Sir Ralph Richardson, Sir John Gielgud, Dame Peggy Ashcroft, Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., director William Wyler, playwright John Osborne, and Olivier's third wife, actress Joan Plowright.

The bottom line is a fascinating portrait of a master craftsman and the art of acting painted on a canvas spanning six decades. A half-hour documentary sometimes can seem interminable when the subject is dull. This one runs more than two and one-half hours, yet the moments fly by. A great actor can hold his audience enthralled, even when just talking about himself.

An Interview with Olivier's Son, Director Richard Olivier

From the London Times (April 11, 1999)

Being Laurence Olivier's son was hell, but after years of anger Richard Olivier has finally found how to be himself.

Once more into the breach with my father

My father died 10 years ago this July, and I still ask myself: what does it mean to have someone of his magnitude as a father? As a child I felt I could never quite get his attention. I could see that he was not as lively with me at home as when he was on a stage or a film set.

It made me feel miserable, but when Dad wasn't working he was unhappy. It felt as though the National Theatre was his favourite child and we, myself and my sisters, were his stepchildren in Brighton, waiting to see him at weekends. And then he was often tired and reading scripts.

As a teenager I didn't know what was wrong with me. I had this deep sense of loneliness and emptiness. When Dad died it was a huge shock. I went numb. I hardly cried at all. Something inside me shut off and I started acting almost like a machine. I wanted to run away from the past and pretend it hadn't happened. I withheld my emotions and became a workaholic - like my father.

Like him, I wasn't able to relate to people properly. My wife wished I would put some of the energy into my family that I put into my work. Like my father, I'd sit at home waiting for the phone to ring for the next job. Ultimately, however, my father's death catapulted me into looking at my unhappiness. Now I feel I have been on a journey that has come full circle.

For years I felt very bitter and resentful. As a child it was hard to understand that he preferred playing Othello to being with me. I went through a lot of angst and anger. And I do think my father's love of work was unbalanced. He got to the point that he was so attached to the buzz that he would be depressed if he wasn't working. When he was older, he didn't enjoy the fruits of a lifetime's work: being with his family or seeing friends. Much later, when I was directing my mother on stage in Time and the Conways, I heard her telling a reporter: "Of course I love my family, but the theatre is my life." I was shocked. I wasn't sure if she quite knew what she'd said.

I decided to question everything seriously for the first time. I went into a dark night of the soul: I joined a men's group and went into therapy. I went on men's retreats. I found there was something magical about being with a group of men who are not together to make business deals or to get pissed or to see who's better at football.

The whole point of men's retreats is get to a place where men can drop into themselves and have what I would call an "authentic experience". I discovered that we walk through life wearing masks and we play roles. My father wore masks. But he didn't know when he was and when he wasn't.

On a retreat I never thought of my father. He became one of the layers I had to peel off with my mobile phone. I don't know what he would have thought of what I was doing. But I think he would have been happy for me. Because I know now that he loved me.

I became very involved in what is now a growing men's movement. At first, it was considered a joke - men baring their breast and hugging trees; but men feel duty-driven to work 40 or 60-hour weeks and once you're on the treadmill, it's hard to stop. Men like my father become defined by what they do, so they feel good only when they're working. Sometimes on retreats we send men out into the woods for four hours and tell them not to return until they've had a good idea.

What happened to me was a strange quirk of the men's movement, therapy and my famous father. People came to talk to me because of my father and I became a much more public person than I had anticipated. For better or for worse I decided to be honest. I blamed my father for my feelings of emptiness and unhappiness. That felt necessary, but I'm glad it's over.

I have been reading a wonderful German psychologist called Alice Miller, who says you have to go through a stage of blaming your parents, because if you pretend your childhood was wonderful you will never really find out who you are. Now I accept what happened to me in my childhood. I am no longer angry. It's a great relief that I no longer blame my father, because I have so much more energy for the things I care about. And, having gone through the blame and rejection, I must forgive myself for having blamed my parents: I mustn't get stuck in the guilt for having blamed them. I have come out the other side.

Of course, it's very peculiar that as I was trying to reject my parents' way of doing things, I was working as a theatre director. And five years ago I wondered how I could bring together these two great passions of my life: the men's movement and working as a theatre director.

I began talking to the theatre director Mark Rylance about Shakespeare's plays and how they could be used as stories of personal development. I was also interested in how my work in the theatre and the men's movement could help the development of business organisations to make work more constructive. We talked about the nature of kingship in everyone and how this could help them to be leaders. Two years ago Rylance asked me to direct Henry V at the Globe. It was the first time I'd ever done a Shakespeare play and the first time I'd ever done something so completely identified with my father. My dad had started his film of Henry V in a reconstruction of the Globe Theatre. Years before, if I'd directed this play I would have been proving myself as an Olivier. Now, because I was ready to give up being a theatre director, I didn't care. I felt free to approach Shakespeare in my own way, involving my knowledge of myth and ritual and emotional intelligence through my work in the men's movement. It was an all-male production and it was fabulous.

We decided to develop our Henry V workshop to bring it to managers in business. Some managers felt they couldn't be inspiring leaders. We'd say: "If you were pretending to be Henry V and you had to get all these men into that bloody breach, how would you do it?" They'd say: "Well, if I was Henry V I would probably just do . . ." And they'd suggest something. We would say: "Great. You just did it. Now go do it with your staff."

What was intriguing for me was the idea of the good leader being a good actor. Sometimes you have to bluff and pretend - be an actor - because you have to inspire others.

At last I felt, if not on an equal stage, then on a level platform from which I could look at my father's life. I knew, at that moment, it wasn't about fame or being a respected member of the profession. Deep down I knew that theatre wasn't enough for me. I realised I was better working with business people than actors. There are better theatre directors than me.

But there aren't many better arts consultants than me. Working in theatre, I would always be second-best. Now I don't think in terms of best or not best at all. My father would be pleased with me and what I'm doing. Partly as a homage and partly as following in his footsteps. He did what he wanted and needed to do and so do I.

My father didn't have much truck with psychology or positive thinking but he didn't need it. He was lucky he could do his stuff and be marvellous without that kind of help. Now I feel that everything that my father has stood for is helping me to do the work I'm involved in, and that I feel I was born to do.

So many people think that two-thirds of their entire life is a necessary evil in order to get four weeks' holiday a year. It's tragic. But now that I feel inspired by my work, it means that I, too, have to face the problems my father faced.

Balancing work and family life is one of the hardest things. Some of my working life still isn't very family-friendly.

Troy and Ali, my two children, are 11 and 9. Now I phone their schools and get their timetables before I start booking my work so that I can be with them during their half-terms and holidays. We swim, play tennis and football, and Ali and I dance about on the floor.

Last Monday we had an Easter-egg hunt with about 15 kids down at Dad's old house. Mum was there - she's a wonderful grandmother - and we had a football match with the dads against the boys. I'm still slightly suffering from it.

There was a time when I thought, if only I could get out of my father's shadow. Now I wouldn't want to. I feel closer to my father than at any other time in my life. I almost feel that he is here with me.

Richard Olivier was talking to Ann McFerran