Red Carpets And Other Banana Skins

by Rupert Everett

Revealing himself to be a consummate storyteller, stage and screen star Everett ("My Best Friend's Wedding") pens a delightfully witty memoir in which he reveals his life experiences as an up-and-coming actor, detailing everything from the eccentricities of the British upper class to the madness of Hollywood.

Genres: Biography, Nonfiction, Memoir, Autobiography, LGBT, Film, British Literature

406 pages, Hardcover

First published September 18, 2006

About the author

Rupert James Hector Everett is a two-time Golden Globe-nominated English film actor, author and former singer.

He first came into public attention in the early 1980s when he was cast in Julian Mitchell's play and subsequent film Another Country for playing an openly homosexual student at an English public school, set in the 1930s. Since then he has appeared in many other films with mostly major roles, including My Best Friend's Wedding, The Next Best Thing and the Shrek sequels.

Reviews

[Antigone · Rating 2 out of 5]

Ah, the travail of the unrepentant narcissist...me, me, me, and who are you again? Memoir is a rich luxury for these; a raft to float languidly through the waters of the self's myriad iterations of if only and well, I did try. Kudos, though, for the courage to include the occasional tart, critical remark (made by someone else). Lauren Bacall comes readily to mind, who, during the French shoot of Altman's Pret-A-Porter, fixed our Mr. Everett with a wry eye and announced, "You are the wickedest woman in Paris." I have no doubt he was.

[John Anthony · Rating 3 out of 5]

+:
Beautifully written. He is extremely observant - trait of a good actor no doubt.

He has plenty to tell. He's packed a lot in to his 45 or so years. Lots to interest, amuse and learn from.
-:
Whilst there's much to admire about his openness, all that theatrical campness got on my nerves and I felt he was selling himself short. It seemed that every other man and his poodle were labelled a queen.. So, I docked a star.

Well illustrated - some good photos - Screaming queen you might be Rupi but we still love you!.

[Louise Brown · Rating 3 out of 5]

An honestish account of an out gay man's lot in Hollywood with odd juicy tidbits about the likes of Julia Roberts, Madonna, and Catherine Deneuve and some fading Hollywood stars and locations. Although patchily written both in style and narrative it is pretty entertaining both in language and stories revealed.

Some of the stories smack of Chinese whispered Hollywood fables, but most are revealing of real Hollywood (I imagine) and his honesty about his talent (and at times, lack thereof), love life and drug habits is quite touching.

One deeply disturbing chapter weirdly skips over 9/11 to discuss the cocaine-induced illness of a not very close friend and the slow demise of his much-loved dog, Mo. I couldn't work out if there was any intended irony/larger statement about life being attempted. Still not sure and can't be bothered to re-read.

I waivered between two and three stars but plumped for three due to laughing out loud a few times at lines like his reaction to an overindulgent starry "method" story from Sharon Stone about her being demonically possessed by her Casino character,

" 'God!' I interjected, rather hopelessly. This was turning into one of those conversations one had with a homeless person."

[KnownAsLavinia · Rating 3 out of 5]

I actually read this when I was in university, 10 years ago.
I don't know where my copy is anymore and what happened to it but what I do remember is that I actually enjoyed it quite a lot and it was a fun read.
Furthermore, I remember I had the feeling that everything Everett was writing about was true, not like normal memoires that can be a bit romanticized at times, it seemed to me that what I was reading was plausible.

I remembered about this read yesterday, after seeing at the movies The Happy Prince, first movie with Rupert as the director, it narrates the end of the life of Oscar Wilde.
And honestly i do think that a bit of the melancholy that we find in this movie can be found in Rupert Everett's life, a star that was put in a corner by hollywood because he had the courage to live like he wanted to live. I think he deserves more than what life has given him and I hope the movie will be seen. I highly recommend it, its not the best movie in the world but very enjoyable and Rupert is a great actor.

[Emily · Rating 4 out of 5]

I wouldn't have pegged myself to read an autobiography by Rupert Everett, but I had heard that this was an unexpectedly great read. Everett has really been through a lot in life, from a surprisingly posh upbringing to the awakening of London's gay culture in the 70s, to the south of France in the 80s and Miami (chez Versace to be exact) and Hollywood in the 90s. He's had run-ins with Warhol and other illustrious names, and although some of friendship mentions come close to eye-roll inducing name dropping ("My friend Jann Wenner..." comes to mind), he writes surprisingly well and has some deeply touching stories. It's interesting to read about an actor's rocky road to fame and it gave me a new appreciation for his films, causing me to revisit a few old favorites (Shakespeare in Love) and discover new ones (Another Country, his first film, in which he is heartbreakingly handsome.)

[Carol, She's so Novel ꧁꧂ · Rating 3 out of 5]

Three & a half stars.

I read this book while away on holiday, so unfortunately I don't have it right next to me while I review.

Excellent opening chapters with very evocative writing about life as upper class school boy.

Rupert appears to be really honest about his own character failings - he doesn't seem quite so self aware that some of these foibles(light fingered, bitchy) may have cost him as many roles as his homosexuality.

Celebrities & movies pictured (heaps of great photos) often are only mentioned in passing or not mentioned at all (Cher, Shakespeare in Love)By the end I was getting a little tired of all the famous names, but at least Rupert explains the more obscure ones like Marti Caine. I know he has done another memoir so he may have picked up these details then. But Rupert does write well - there is no mention of a ghostwriter.

& at least one howler that should have been picked up by the copy editor.

Enjoyed & I may read more of his work (in his very full life he has also written at least two novels)

[Rachel Stevenson · Rating 3 out of 5]

In 1989 I persuaded my mother to take me to London during the school (Easter) holidays to see The Vortex, a Noel Coward play starring Rupert Everett, with whom I was madly in love after having watched Another Country and Dance With A Stranger. I had seen other Noel Coward plays (my mother was involved in am-dram and, like Rupey, had played Elvira in Blithe Spirit) and I assumed it would be a light farce, rather than a tortuous (and torturous tale) of addiction and breakdown. I left the theatre a bit confused, although was cheered up by a coke float in Pizzaland opposite the theatre on Charing Cross road. Turns out though that I was lucky; Rupert had already pulled out of several performances over Easter with a pretend sore throat because he wanted to go on holiday - so we might well have seen a performance with an understudy.

On page 83 of this memoir, Rupey-pupey says: "I regaled him with stories about my life, some were true, others were not"and it's probably best to bear this in mind whilst reading the book. It is 406 pages long and whilst Rupert might be the kind of person it would be fun to spend a few hours with, to spend two to three weeks in his company is a bit de trop. You want to chuck him out (like Bryan Ferry did). On the positive side, Rupert is funny, candid about himself, gossipy about famous people he has known, rude about the people he dislikes but very complimentary towards those he adores. However, on the other side, he treats the alleged rape of Paula Yates’s mother as a joke (“Paula loved drama”), says how “beautiful” Paula’s “neck and shoulders” are when she’s distressed, complains that he can’t book any jobs because the theatre is only interested in working class actors shortly before going on to get lots of parts, often with his ex-public school classmates in the same cast, and, despite being 47 when this book was published, he still refers to his youthful stupidities (ringing up famous people to tell them to turn their taps on which concludes with his friend (not Rupert!) being arrested as an IRA suspect) as something just jolly naughty rather than entitled, upper-class dickishness.

On top of this, the book could have been 100 pages shorter if he'd dropped the name dropping (too many to go into here). You suspect that some of his 1980s idle rich west London friends (Guinness offspring, Lucy Ferry, Isabella Blow, Natasha Grenfell) would be in Made in Chelsea nowadays. A lot of these people seem to end up dead, at least half of the those he name drops meet an untimely demise before page 406, although he seems more upset about his dead dog.

Nonetheless, the book made me want to go and re-watch Another Country, just to swoon at his cheekbones once more.

[Magid · Rating 5 out of 5]

I never really considered Rupert Everett (or 'Rupi', as I now insist on calling him) as much more than a floppy-haired C-list Hollywood layabout, but I was wrong. So WRONG. I found this book absolutley fascinating, charmingly written, genuinely funny, honest and, at times, really quite touching. I never realised that Everett had been around for quite such a long time, and that he'd really been a witness to the celebrity twilight zone that was the 80's and 90's. It's the range of his human experience that kept me furiously turning pages, and yet simultaneously hoping that the book would never end; from transvestite prostitutes in Paris to Liz Taylor in Hollywood, they're all here - in glorious technicolour.

[Lesley Truffle · Rating 5 out of 5]

British actor Rupert Everett is a wonderful writer. He’s written two autobiographies and is presently working on a third. Everett’s also written books, screenplays and non-fiction pieces for magazines. In 2018 he continues to act in films and recently wrote, directed, and starred in the film ‘The Happy Prince.’

‘Red Carpet and Other Banana Skins’ was Everett’s first memoir. It is a witty confession of someone who’s enormously talented and ambitious but also heavily invested in having fun. Sometimes to the detriment of his career and his friendships. He openly admits that he’s behaved like an absolute bastard but it doesn’t make the reader lose interest in his narrative.

Most of this memoir takes place in Hollywood and his views of Hollywood celebrities are frequently quite scathing and often hilarious. But what makes his memoir so readable is that he doesn’t spare himself either. The man knows really knows how to sling words around.

I’m really looking forward to the publication of Rupert Everett’s third memoir.

[Luke Devenish · Rating 4 out of 5]

Very enjoyable. A recommend from my mum. For a man with such keen self-awareness you'd think Rupert would display rather more self-analysis. He's a bit light on there. I'm as in the dark about some of his dumber career decisions as he is. Rupe's great analysing others though. Best writing I've ever encountered on Paula Yates. Never heard her described in quite the same heartbreaking way that Rupert describes her. Brought a tear to my eye and stayed with me afterwards. His take on Madonna left me rather more dry eyed, however. A hatchet faced miss. I still love her despite. No doubt Rupe does, too.

[Mark Farley · Rating 4 out of 5]

I loved this. I really did. Met the man too and he’s a lovely bloke. But before I end up sucking Rupert’s dick too much, I should add that my grasp and initial impression of this book is not without its foibles and issues. I still have my fair share of points to raise.

One thing in particular strikes me about Red Carpets and Banana Skins and it seems like a vital point that many of the platitudes from the press that cover the inside, outside and even ‘sub-cover’ of this paperback. The point is that, where I agree wholeheartedly with JG Ballard and Andrew O’Hagan who announce quite avidly in their Books of the Year round-ups that this book is “hilariously funny” (Ballard) and “well-written” (O’Hagan), I can’t help but wonder where the hell Rupert is in this book. I’m not kidding. There are some fleeting glances of him, how he grew up and found himself venturing into the bitchy, catty and seemingly unaccepting world of the arts, and theatre in particular (a shallow fact that seems very strange indeed) and to continue in agreement with the countless included words of glorious praise:

The Times: “A heady triumph of observation.” (Just not his own life)
The Independent: “Cinematic eye for mood and detail.” (Just not of his own)
The Herald: “Brilliantly indiscreet” (about everyone else’s lives)

I could go on forever as there are six pages of this. If anything, this is a better version of Piers Morgan’s The Insider, with more witticisms, descriptive poetic scrawlings and bigger stars being bitched about and with such celebrity accounts, he gives very little away about himself while filling the pages with gossip, rumour and intrigue.

It seems an absolute gaudy pleasure to be on this insightful ride with him. The writing is excellent, descriptive and alomost poetic in parts. The sights, sounds and smells he describes are like nothing else I have ever read, I just want to give more of himself away.

Now, obviously, saying Rupert Everett is not in this book is a little short of exaggeration. Of course, he’s IN the book, it’s just that he seems so detatched from it at times. While he is brilliantly exuding passionately like a contemporary Noel Coward on how the first time he met Madonna, she fiddled with Sean Penn’s chopstick under the table while they were at a restaurant or about the mobile transsexual hooker he befriended, he completely forgets to tell us about his own love life and sexual experiences, apart from with one significant other (a woman, incidentally), Beatrice Dalle.

He briefly sojourns into explanation before heading back into the gossip. In fact, it’s not until Page 272 do we get a sense of the men in his life and even then all we get is:

“I had affairs with a volleyball player, an actor and a hooker.”

It kinda reminds me of those weekend Big Brother contestant exposes where the headline is “My secret celebrity lovers” and then you turn to whatever minor page they have given it and it’s like,

“Yada yada yada and oh, yeah I dated a certain guy in a certain boyband...”

Please. Insightful observation, my arse.

In the middle of the book, the time frames get really confusing. After following a rather random slump through his first 25-30 years, he not only hot-foots it effervescently through the Eighties with a jaded depression, but he then takes the abtract route of taking us through three chapters set in 1988, 1992 and then back to 1989, consecutively.

It’s not all doom and gloom for Rupert though, as I am still loving the book at this point and once we hit the filming of Pret A Porter and he rescues himself from near poverty and obscurity to land himself a role on the film, you really feel a second surge of affinity for him, despite his lack of personal prescence in this book.

There’s an inordinate amount of death and loss that follows Rupert throughout this book, from the countless acquaintances that he lost to the AIDS virus in the 80’s to the account of his time in Miami and the depiction of the area’s vast exodus after the death of the area’s social pion, Gianni Versace.

There are many touching scenes with Mo, his dog, especially when it comes to the point where he eventually relents and calls for his owner to sadly put him down, which ends up being the most tender relationship Rupert wishes to expose in this book after not divulging much at all about his own love life. There’s a great heartfelt battle with Hollywood generally as a theme throughout the book, which is an interesting concept considering showbiz is run by the fags and all of those that choose to support them. It’s endearing if anything to note that the personal fights that Rupert achieves over the bigots are just and a step towards greater acceptance.

Finally, there is a really great general piece of banter surrounding ‘The Next Best Thing’, a film he originally didn’t want to do but later insisted that the now movie liability Madonna co-starred in. He tells of the Producer vs. Actors/Writers clash that they had and how ultimatley (and very subtly) things like the changes Madonna insisted upon (including major roles) contributed to the movie tanking like it did, is wholly entertaining and very clever on his part. In fact, the whole relationship with Madonna is one of the most wholly interesting things about this book. Her prescence is evident but respectfully either dismissed or avoided, a truly inspired piece of spin or an old queen just waiting to spill the beans further.
I'd go for the latter.

“People in Los Angeles divide their time between AA, acting classes and aerobics.”

Rather prophetic for the Hilton’s and Lohan’s of this world, I thought. Though, how the temazapan dealer fits in there, I’m not so sure.

[Diane Law · Rating 3 out of 5]

A book club choice.
The book was well written but unfortunately I didn’t find the subject matter very interesting or engaging.

[Jeremy Richardson · Rating 3 out of 5]

The surprising thing about this book is that it inverts one's expectations.

The traditionally boring bit - the pre-fame bit - is wonderfully enjoyable and witty - all things Poppins especially.

The fame bit, dusted in coke, and trailing on the coat-tails of Madonna, is suprisingly unengaging. Perhaps that's as it should be. Vainity, in a mad self-indulgent dance with itself, has never truly been a satisfying spectator sport.

Not even the cruel sythe of aids, nor the horror of the Twin Towers, succeed in lending the remainder of the book any edge. It falls to a death of a dog, Mo, famous for leaving "stains" on Madonna's tights, to pull the narrative together toward the end.

Throughout Everett's unguarded lack of concern for future employment allows a great deal of catty fun at the expense of his more talented colleagues.

Catty but never bitchy...

[Kate · Rating 4 out of 5]

Rupert Everett is the Zelig of actors. It's truly unbelievable what he's experienced: London theatre and an affair with Ian McKellen, Parisian disco dance floors with Saint Laurent, Miami decadence with Versace, the frozen Russian tundra when Yeltsin took power, New York and the Warhol satellites, LA and Orson Welles and Roddy MacDowell and Liz Taylor and Tony Richardson and on and on, watching the Twin Towers fall on 9/11. What a life. Witty and observant, snarky and poignant. And very well written.

[David Jay · Rating 2 out of 5]

On page 161 Rupert Everett writes "I was a cunt." On every other page of this memoir he presents evidence to support this statement. I am convinced.

[Shanoe · Rating 2 out of 5]

Durchaus unterhaltsames Hörbuch, gelesen von Rupert Everetts deutscher Stimme. Leider hat sich der Schauspieler zu vielen Dingen, die mich wirklich interessiert hätten (mehr zu seinem Outing beispielsweise oder gesellschaftliche Überlegungen, ähnliches) eher ausgeschwiegen oder sie übertrieben dramatisch inszeniert. Dadurch hatte ich das Gefühl, dass es den Schilderungen an manchen Stellen an Tiefgang fehlt, werden an anderen so bewusst provoziert wird, dass es mich einfach nicht anspricht, weil der Punkt ohne Provokation vielleicht viel besser herausgekommen wäre. Alles in allem fand ich es aber durchaus hörenswert, kann aber nicht mehr als zwei Sterne geben, denn hätte ich es nicht ausgeliehen, sondern gekauft, hätte ich mich wahrscheinlich schon geärgert.

[Wiebke (1book1review) · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was a very deep dive into a world I am not familiar with and have no access to. Very well read, entertaining and informative at the same time.

[Louise Lucas · Rating 5 out of 5]

Enjoyed this book far more than I expected. I don't know what I was expecting, but I really loved Rupert's description of places he visited and found the final two chapters really moving. A good read.

[Alison Cubitt · Rating 5 out of 5]

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.

[Marianne · Rating 1 out of 5]

I’ve always enjoyed Rupert Everett’s comic style in movies like An Ideal Husband and The Importance of Being Earnest so I thought his biography would be an amusing venture into the world of a dashing British sex symbol. It wasn’t. This heavy-handed and abysmal tale attempted to put a humorous twist on vulgarity and perversion but I just couldn’t bring myself to laugh. The first chapter (and I didn’t bother reading any further but opted to selectively skim) pretty much destroyed my image of him as a sexy, urbane man. He is, instead, a rather tawdry and sick man deserving of both pity and contempt. Now before anyone says, “Well, yeah!” and faults me for not liking his book, I have read other books about tawdry, sick people that actually gave me something I could think about rather than focusing on keeping my dinner down. The Heroin Diaries by Nikki Sixx immediately springs to mind…

[MaryJo Hansen · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was a stunningly well-written autobiography by Rupert Everett, a British actor who was especially popular from the 1990s into the 2000s. It is witty, and snarky and compassionate. Some descriptions are almost poetic. Not easy to follow chronologically however; and while there is analysis and insight of other people that he meets along the way to stardom, there is not much self-analysis or insight into his own character. Since he came out as gay in 1989, the road must have not been easy. Perhaps the coke helped him thru those years without making him think too hard. The closest relationship seems to have been with his dog Mo who was the love of his life. I hope 10 years on from when this was written that he has found happiness with someone.
Reading this made me go back and get DVDs of his movies, especially Pret-aPorter (also called Ready to Wear), the Ideal Husband and My Best Friends Wedding--the one that made him famous. .
Excellent read!

[Gayle · Rating 3 out of 5]

I had been meaning to read this book when it first came out but somehow I never got around to it and then recently my husband announced he was planning to read it so we have a copy at home so finally I have read it. I remember it receiving good reviews about the Hollywood lifestyle and all the people Rupert Everett has encountered. My feeling after finishing it is that Rupert Everett has been in more plays and films than perhaps I would have given him credit for and he has mixed with a very diverse section of society, especially celebrities. It is interesting to see the types of people who have been his very good friends - e.g. Madonna, Gianni Versace. The book is well-written and as one review put it, each chapter is almost self-contained as a mini essay to be read in its own right. I shall be picking up the second book of his autobiography when my husband has finished it!

[Kristal Stidham · Rating 4 out of 5]

I expected Rupert Everett's autobiography to simply be about being a gay and fabulous movie star. Of course, there's a lot of that -- but also lots of sex, drugs and drama. After over twenty years on the silver screen and a good number of years on the stage, he has worked with almost everyone worth mentioning in America and Europe. There's a metric ton of name-dropping in this book and I enjoyed all of it (especially after his arrival in Hollywood).



Three things I liked in particular: (1) His characterization of Madonna seems spot on. (2) The story of his dog Mo's last few days was very moving. (3) I have the audio version of this book and I LOVED Rupert reading it. His voice is completely drool-worthy!

[Samantha · Rating 2 out of 5]

The best word to describe Rupert Everett's biography is....whiny, but that's part of why this autobiography is entertaining...it's so very dramatic! It's not wonderful and I wouldn't run out to buy it (I got mine for $3 off the Bargain Books shelf and I would recommend paying more than that!) but it was a "not terrible" way to pass the day. The story of Rupert Everett's mostly posh life. Sort of funny, sort of sad, sort of....?

[Dave Vito · Rating 4 out of 5]

Even after he was well and truly in everybody's sin bin, I still had a thing for Rupert's villainy sense of humour and take on things. Every year I allow myself one "shallow" celebrity autobiography to read on the beach or that week I have to go back to work after my holiday. This one is not shallow at all. Rupert is a great writer and although there's all the name dropping you'd hope for, mostly it's a book about being a normal human being in an extraordinary context.

[Lisa · Rating 4 out of 5]

Extremely entertaining and well written, this is often snort-out-loud funny and packed with enough juicy bits of gossip about the likes of Madonna, Julia Roberts and Sharon Stone, to name but a few, to keep most smut-hounds satisfied.

[Jeanette (Ms. Feisty) · Rating 1 out of 5]

UGH! Tawdry and boring!

[Val · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved this! I normally never read bios but I read an excerpt in Cosmo and had to check it out. Rupert Everette has a natural grace in his writing and I was sorry to finish it.

[Neil Munday · Rating 4 out of 5]

held my interest a good read especial his boyhood,

[Douglas Watkinson · Rating 5 out of 5]

A beautifully written autobiography by an actor who continues to grow into his own skin. A real writer too, as evidenced by this witty and moving piece of work.