Very easy read, though more frank and explicit than I was expecting. ( )

If the old adage that “you can tell a person by their friends” is true, then it doesn’t say a lot for Rupert Everett. Once he was making his way in world he seemed to gravitate towards the feckless, self entitled, selfish, the lazy and hedonistic. Almost to a man /woman / queen, the characters he describes are awful people...and yet he loves them and, ultimately to the possible detriment of his career and talent, spends much of his adult life partying and freeloading, even when utterly broke (it really is “who you know”, clearly).

He writes intelligently, and it seems a shame he’s wasted his brain and his talent on getting wasted so much. It’s laudable he became interested in charity work when exposed to it in later life but it didn’t sound like it made him reassess his own lifestyle much (at least, that’s the impression left by the book) although he might have slowed down a bit as time has passed…although most of his friends from his younger days had clearly died or “left town”.

There are lots of gossipy tales about actors he’s worked with which are entertainingly told...but from his adult life, not quite so much personal detail. He doesn’t appear to be one for introspection, or letting the reader inside his head too often. One thing many of his tales do underline is just how thick the line between the in crowd and everyone else is...you’re either in with them, and acceptable, whatever you do, or you’re not.

The book is an entertaining read, split into easily digested chapters...but especially when writing about his adult life, lacking personal detail and focusing much more on what other people were like.

I just came away with the impression he spent much of his life with little humility; although he is often self deprecating in the book, he doesn’t seem to suffer fools gladly and I wouldn’t like him too much (or he me, to be fair). He’s since written another volume of memoir which seems to be on the same lines. While this was entertainingly written, and parts are funny, being unable to empathise with any of the characters meant the bits some would find moving didn't move me at all. I think it will be a while before can read more about that world he’s spent his life in. My wife enjoyed this more than me; some of the unpleasant people he describes as great friends just really grated on me. ( )

Rupert Everett’s international film career was launched with Another Country, back in 1984, when he was both young and beautiful. Although never able to make the grade as a romantic lead – Hollywood was notoriously conservative back then and couldn’t risk the wrath of a potential right wing backlash if they cast an openly gay actor. Nevertheless he went on to have his fifteen minutes of fame in Hollywood, where he briefly held court in Camelot.

Red Carpets and Other Banana Skins describes in detail, hanging out with his famous gal pals – from Madonna to Sharon Stone. So far, so celebrity memoir, you would think. Whatever you think of Rupert’s acting abilities (and he is endearingly self-deprecating on that topic), this man can surely write.

On his privileged upbringing:

‘After ten years of prep and public school you were part of the gang; and if you weren’t, you were a freak or a fairy. Luckily for me I was both.’

On the movie business:

‘The movie business is a strange affair, demanding total dedication from its lovers, although it gives none in return.

Red Carpets and Other Banana Skins manages to be both witty and sad, sweet and endearing as well as achingly funny. It doesn’t sound like his younger, self-absorbed self would have been much fun to hang around with but all that changed when his beloved Mo, a black Labrador, came into his life. As he so rightly states, once you have another being to care for, it turns you into a better, less selfish person.

Although it’s fascinating to read about his early Hollywood career, hanging out with legends of another era, like Orson Welles, I just loved, that in that crazy mixed up world in La La Land, a black Labrador (a signifier of a British rural upbringing – if ever there was one), got to fly on Concorde and hang out in A Listers pools. ( )

Can't believe how much I am enjoying this. Very funny - every chapter has a funny bit. My favourite bit so far is his trip to Colombia- but so much more - that spooky hotel in Hollywood, the wild times in Paris.

I feel this guy should be irritating but puts himself down a lot so that helps. Smashing prose and I have ended up a fan! ( )

I don't usually like biographies very much. And I don't listen to audiobooks all that often. But listening to Rupert Everett reading his own biography was a real treat. The dry wit, the scathing comments, the self-deprecation and the sincere compliments were all wonderful.
And if this is an abridged version - what did they leave out of the full text! ( )