Posted: 9/18/12 at 1:20pm
From Mr. Everett's new memoirs:
Angela Lansbury — in a coral silk dressing gown, a rust-coloured wig and panda eye make-up — sits in a tiny pink room with a pink sofa and no natural light. She’s doing her lips in the mirror.
As I enter her dressing room, she pecks at my reflection in the glass and goes on with her work.
Depending on her mood, or whom she’s talking to, she speaks either English or American. With her fans, she’s Jessica Fletcher. With me, she’s Miss Marple.
‘Good house tonight?’ she asks.
It’s week five of Blithe Spirit, in which we’re both starring on Broadway.
Angela plays Madame Arcati, the clairvoyant, originally played by Dame Margaret Rutherford, and has the funniest lines. Her entrance on stage sometimes extends for five whole minutes while the rest of us stand around and she beams star quality across the footlights, nodding modestly and waving her public on with subtle movements of encouragement.
‘I’ve just seen a picture of your latest facelift,’ teases Angela, waving a gossip rag that features a double-page before and after spread. ‘Don’t,’ I groan.
An editor has published a bloated mugshot of my so-called botched facelift. ‘Well, at least they’re talking about you!’ says Angela.
She’s charming and reserved, with flint-sharp ambition under her cape and galoshes. She has the eyes of an owl and the tenacity of a mountain goat.
Angela’s from the old school: outwardly very friendly, ultimately detached. Old-fashioned descriptions suit Angela best. She’s a good sport. A lady. But she’s also 83, and as any seasoned Broadway star knows, needs to divide her energies judiciously. Most of hers go into her performance. Then her fans.
Many of them have loved her since Gaslight. Each night, they’re fork-lifted from buses in knots of Zimmer frames and walking sticks. They always love the show.
Afterwards, they gather wild-eyed in lines outside Angela’s door, proffering autograph books with shaky hands. She receives them in the doorway like a headmistress preparing for bed — clutching their hands but pushing them firmly out at the same time.
On stage, she takes no prisoners, grabbing all the reviews and a Tony award, leaving the rest of us dazed and confused in her undertow.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2204811/Death-Natasha-Richardson-plunged-Rupert-Everett-strangest-scene-life.html#ixzz26q8Cztjt
I have to say, that's pretty much how I imagine Ms. Lansbury to be in real life: down-to-earth, sane, nice, but tough, non-nonsense person. Basically, anti-diva.
Have any of you met Ms. Lansbury socially or worked with her? Would love to read your perspective.
Her close friend and fellow co-star Bea Arthur, once said that Angela Lansbury has the mouth of a longshoreman, but I'm not sure if she really meant that or was just joking.
As for Everett, I saw him up close during Blithe Spirit's run and his face looked absolutely natural. No to mention that it's impossible to have a plastic surgery when you performing 8 times per week on stage. By the way, Angela Lansbury has never made a secret about having some work done.
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