Articles/Interviews

It feels as if I haven't been able to get away from films with Oliver Reed in them this year. But Talkabout correspondent Dan Ehrlich's exclusive interview with him reveals why Reed keeps on working hard - and living hard.

He's built like a rock and looks as rugged as the Highlands. And he lives up to his image: "If anybody starts hustling me, and they often do, I can't run away and usually get into a fight. I can easily get into twenty fights in one night in a London pub - and it's nearer to fifty in Scotland!"

Oliver Reed's reputation for violent behaviour has followed him around since he first started making a name in films. But he insists he is not basically aggressive: "Actually, I'm probably frightened of violence. But I think I'm more frightened of running away. That's why I like living in the countryside and leave it as little as possible. I can be left alone."

You can't blame him for leaving his country home as little as possible. Called Broome Hall, it's a 47-bedroom mansion on top of a hill amidst the rolling green countryside near Dorking, Surrey. The estate was formerly a monastery; now it serves as the location of some of the wildest parties ever thrown in the area. Reed's drinking binges, which often go on for days, are already legendary, not least because they are thrown for the local residents as often for his showbiz friends. To the people of the area, Reed is the Laird, the Gov, and he's held in far greater esteem than any feudal baron might have been. The barons never shared their booze.

Oliver recalls with amusement an incident concerning his plumber. "He came to fix a simple thing in my central heating system a while back, and his wife had to come and fetch him after he had been gone for two days!"

When he left for a filming assignment in Israel last April, Reed was aware that there was a slight risk of terrorist attack. So he got his lawyers to change his will: in the event of his death, £10,000 was to be spent on a mammoth wake and pub party.

"Everybody was to be invited," he says, "but there was one stipulation. They had to cry, or pretend to, or else they wouldn't get any drink."

Like the brawling image, one suspects that the reputation for hard drinking is perhaps just a little larger than life. Reed admits that some of his more outrageous behaviour has been a put-on, especially when it connected with his work, "because that's what people have grown accustomed to expect." During the world premier of The Three Musketeers in Paris, he felt that some theatrics were in order at a formal sit-down dinner. "I drank a bottle of red wine straight down. Then I drank another. Then I fell backwards off the chair, to the amazement of the V.I.P. guests. But I knew what I was doing. I came up slowly and I went out and gave another bottle to my driver."

"You see, when I go to a party like that in honour of a certain type of film, there's some pressure on me to play the part . . . since I portrayed a musketeer on film, I thought I should behave like one."

The amount of booze he's put away over the years has left its mark on his physique. There's an abundance of Reed abdomen which he's careful to pull in when the camera aims in his direction. He admits he's too old, and too heavy, for much athletic activity - but he's not really concerned about his weight. "I'm not worried about the pounds and ounces. That's an American paranoia. Actors in Europe work on a system based on your experience and seniority. We have greater tolerance towards the physical appearance."

Even so, at 37, the thought of going through a sort of professional menopause some time soon occupies his mind. "I don't think I'll be playing romantic characters too much longer," he says. "Maybe another year. I used to say I would retire when I was 35. Well, I'm past that now, but I need the money to support my children and home."

"Once my kids are grown up, I don't know if I'll want to continue acting. When I was 27 and fighting, scrapping and fucking, that was one thing. Now I'm a great deal older and I'm not doing the same thing . . . but film people don't want to leave that out."

The trouble is, Reed's butch, brawling, sexy image had made a lot of money for a lot of film makers, so naturally they want to exploit it for as long as they can. He's afraid that they'll end up making him look embarrassing. "I'm afraid to say this, but if I did prolong my screen lover image, I would wind up having to refuse the kind of parts they are offering me."

"I don't want that to happen. Nobody wants to see over-weight 40 year old actors kissing beautiful young chicks. I'm not denying that there can be romance after 40, but it's not too bright to try to keep an image like that going. It doesn't epitomise romance in the film industry."

Reed is much better known in Europe than in the States. ("Since they revised the censorship rules, Italy has become my biggest market") But that's a situation he aims to rectify: he's recently made two films in the U.S.A., one of them co-starring Karen Black, in which he plays Americans. He's hopeful these will help establish his name across the Atlantic. "It seems America might be short of fat 37 year old actors," he says. "They've got lots of thick 45 year olds, but not too many fat 37 year olds."

"I suppose it's important that I should make more films in America. I have many friends there and I would like to see more of the place. The first time I went to Hollywood I didn't go over too well. I simply didn't live up to my advance publicity of being an obnoxious brawler."

There we go again, with two of the recurring theme's in Reed's life - living up to the tough guy image, and reconciling himself to the passing of the years. If he's really slowing down, and aware of it, does the invincible Oliver Reed accept defeat or the prospect of it more easily these days? "I don't know", he says quietly. "I haven't been beaten that often".

Probably the biggest defeat of his life was the failure of his first marriage. His ten years with Irish model Kate Byrne ended in 1970 and since then Reed has vowed he will never marry again. "I'm not afraid of losing," he explains. "I just don't want to make the same mistake twice. Quite honestly, I would still be afraid that over the years I could not be faithful to one woman."

"When you sign on the line, it doesn't really matter about better or worse, in sickness and in health. You can always get a nurse. But the vow of excluding everyone else . . . that's the real thing that matters. I believe the chances are that I would always express the opinion that I could never exclude anyone else from my life, whether man or woman."

"Society excuses you if you go out on the piss, get drunk and fight all the time, even if you're married. That isn't grounds for divorce. But just kiss a chick some time and the law holds it against you."

He hasn't had to worry about that eventuality for the past five years. He's been quite happy with his girlfriend, former ballet dancer Jackie Daryl. And that's one of Reed's standing rules: if anyone is going to be his girl, they will have to preface their professional status with the word "former".

"I believe that my woman should not work," he says bluntly. "When I come home and I'm tired from filming all day or I'm a little but fucked up, I expect them to be there and make sure everything is cool for me. You know, like they draw my bath and help me to bed. That's the kind of bag they have and in return for it they're looked after, they can bear my children and if any man talks bad to them, I'll hit him."

"My girl is still around because I care about her, not because I'm bound by law. And the fact that I'm getting older and slowing down doesn't mean I'm any close to getting married today than I was a few years ago. I still like to be free to play the field. I'm not saying I do play the field - I'm just no closer to commitment."

There is, however one deep commitment in his life, and one which he wishes he could undertake more responsibly - that to his two children, Mark, 14, and Sarah, 5. He admits that he doesn't have "a nice family life", and wishes he did. And he blames his career. "I have a son who is in boarding school and whom I rarely see. I have a daughter who is in school most of the time. I'm away on location most of the time."

Strolling around on his home ground, surrounded by the beauty of the Broome Hall estate, Reed genuinely seems to resent some of the routines he's expected to go through in the name of show business. There's more than a hint of regret in his voice when he says, "I love it here. I wish I could just stay here for ever and raise my children and my horses."

When he's in this mood, and looking towards the future, it no surprise to hear him express a certain ambition . . . . "I want to be a publican. Yes, I plan to open a pub when I slow down in films or leave the business altogether. I don't plan to be one of those publicans in name only, either. I want to be right there behind the bar, serving drinks. I love the pub atmosphere."

There it is, the other recurring theme in Oliver Reed's life-style. If it's not fighting, its boozing. He can't resist one final anecdote."

"There was this new man who came to live in the area. He heard I was the king around here and wanted to challenge me to a vodka drinking contest. He passed out in twenty-five minutes. Now he pays homage to me."