In seeking out reading material, I am not overly selective sometimes. As I have, on occasion, been noted by others to have picked up a cereal box to read when nothing else presents itself, so it is not uncommon that I purchase a book without the full knowledge of what treasures or mire may be hidden in its pages. I know of Mr. Stamp, of course, through film - I love The Limey and I grew up with Zod being one of the classic villains I know. I had seen him give the six to twelve minute television interviews promoting films and I knew him to be entertaining and seemingly affable. So, when I happened across this book, I picked it up without much hesitation. It was a read, an autobiography of an actor I knew and liked, but did not know really well.
In this pick, I found rather a few treasures, and not much mire. Going in blind, I failed to realize this was the third such work in a series, covering his middle years, so to speak, from filming Billy Budd to working with Fellini. The book feels like a conversation with a friend that is letting you not only into his home, but opening a few doors - the feeling is familiar, but has a sense of showing us something we missed as well. There is much of love and loss, of family and experimentation, and a seeming feeling of a 1960's cultural travelogue. I laughed aloud a few times and other times I felt for Stamp's situation of loss and uncertainty, pining for a sense of things that were there, but not understood.
Often times, we think of actors as their roles or different from us, and while Stamp's talent in film and stage exceeds any I could even pretend to have, I felt a part of the club - perhaps as a valet or waiter - but at least in the door from his stories of the industry. Still, the richness goes well beyond simply telling us who was what and where, there is also a feeling of a quest of such. Stamp tells us of the people - who despite being real made me feel like I could apply "characters" to them fair enough. From a seemingly genius botanist and agricultural expert who shunned his family's history in the film industry to cross pollinate marijuana. Another spiritualist figure is K, a man once hailed as a seeming second coming who, once so called, immediately disbands an organization once they name him as their leader, saying truth does not come for organizations, but from other things. Shrimpton, the lady in much of the story of his love and loss, cuts across much of the reading and Stamp's recollection seems fair, unfaltering, and serene in remembrance, not being too critical of her or himself, but rather just saying what the events at hand were and how they ended up, so to speak.
The fact that Mr. Stamp is a terrific actor with presence in the films of my youth (Superman franchise), my teen years (Star Wars, The Limey), and now in a series of older films I am joyfully watching is nice, but in this, he tells us a story of love, loss, recovery, and both moving on and being rooted still - the way we can forget and get pulled back from forgetfulness by a tune, a scent, or something long buried. His acting is excellent and his story? Well, it was well worth the read.