I'm gay, too. Um, Queer as Folk? Queer Eye for the Straight Guy? Queer Studies? This word does not express bigotry. Generally, it expresses empowerment.

No mention of the delightful "An Ideal Husband"? Oh, my goodness. You are selling Rupert so, so short.

I really do not appreciate the author referring to me as a gay person as a "queer". I wish he would keep his bigotry to himself.

"... Dance with A Stranger, about the real life case of Ruth Ellis, the last person to be executed in England ..."

Sorry to be a nitpicky bore, but Ruth Ellis was the last woman hanged in England, in 1955. She was also, at 28 years, the youngest female in the 20th Century to suffer that fate.

Plenty of men took the long walk to the gallows after she was executed.

Just FYI, the last executions were those of Gwynne Evans (in Manchester) and Peter Allen (in Liverpool), both on 13 August 1964.

Hanging was abolished in Britain (at least, for murder --- it was still in effect for treason and a couple of other crimes) in 1965. It has since been entirely abolished by the European Convention on Human Rights.

wooo sean kennedy!

you are awesome. good job with this article--salon is a big F'in deal.

Who is Sean Kennedy &, more to the point, who cares? Oh, he "writes" for the Advocate, that perennially Boring /Gay is good rag that long ago abandoned political discourse for celebrity micro "analysis." Kennedy's pro forma dissection of Rupertt's career serves only to high light his middle brow, profesional homo p.o.v. Honey, just cause you're gay doesn't make you interesting. At least --- and this seems to have (also) escaped S.K., the book is hilarious. Who cares what Rupertt's motivations are /aren't? He delivers , which is more than I can ever say about the Advocate's d.o.a. hagiography. Since S.K. is such an insider, maybe he should consider a change of careers. The WMA mailroom would be an excellent place to start.

I remember when his novel Hello, Darling, Are You Working? came out, and he did an interview with the Advocate, really being a tease. Men were good for sex, but only a woman could he really love. Yes, this is what he said. And the book itself is filled with the "humerous" incidents in which the lead character's (Everett, thinly disguised) wife is ignored/subject to embarrassement, and even falls asleep and tips over in her chair into the fireplace at their wedding reception. What fun!

Later when it seemed a better career move, Everett became Gay & Proud. And I guess ditched the subdued misogyny. Too late for me to accept him as a spokesman.

I haven't read the book - probably wouldn't have before I read this review, probably won't after. But, um, it sounds like Kennedy's objection to this book is that Everett focuses too much on a random recounting of his experiences as an up-and-down-in-popularity actor, and doesn't focus enough on his own sexuality.

That's like panning a book by Grace Murray Hopper's about early computer programming for neglecting to focus on her experiences as a woman in a male-dominated technical field. If she wanted to write a book about programming, how on earth can you base your entire criticism of that book on its not being a book about women in science?

Similarly, if Everett wants to write a fluffy Hollywood gossip autobiography, how on earth can you found your criticism on it not being about his homosexuality? Sure, it's relevant to the story he's telling; sure, it's appropriate for a reviewer to point out what's missing in a book. But to make that the entire basis for the review?

Maybe Rupert Everett wanted more out of his career...who doesn't? More people than not would really like for lighting to strike their careers (maybe not in the Paris Hilton "I'm now a singer" kind of way) and it rarely does. Most will turn sixty five and the office will give them a honey baked ham and a barely attended farewell party. Rupert should have such problems. He may be bitter, restless and discontent right now but he needs to remember he's a talented character actor who can handle stage, screen, TV or a small crowd at Barnes & Noble. I saw him perform opposite Stephanie Beacham (who you ask? -- she played Sable on the ill fated Dynasty spin off The Colbys) in Noel Coward's The Vortex at the Ahmanson in LA. He was terrific. If he's bitter, he shouldn't be. Besides, he's still got many years ahead of him. Maybe when he's Sir Ian Mckellon's age, he'll look back on his career and say: Wow. I did a lot. Besides, Hollywood always loves an older Brittish Silver Fox.

But my point stands. I'm too lazy to look it up.

That Ellen doesn't discuss her personal life on her talk show. Does the name Kathy Lee Gifford ring a bell to anyone? "Frank this..., Cody that..., Cassidy this...." Honestly, all that stuff is deadly boring to most of an audience most of the time. I prefer my talk show hosts to be Letterman-like ciphers.

Really, who knows where his fist has been?

Can't wee all just have sex together and be real?

The only unusual aspect of Mr. Everett's bitter regard for fame comes from his attempt to be what Hollywood is still lacking - an openly gay movie star who is sexy and powerful. If Sean Kennedy could lay out the magical recipe for coming out in Hollywood his down-the-nose regard for Mr. Everett may be justifiable. But since he cannot offer up the golden fruit he wastes his time in the usual way; giving lashes to one who tried.

queen. Who cares?

Sir John Gielgud, for one. Charles Laughton. Dirk Bogarde. Rock Hudson!

Hey, it happens, and if you have the talent and the discretion (lacking in Everett's memoir, to be sure), sexual orientation doesn't need to be an obstacle. Let's face it, straight men in Hollywood don't usually write memoirs recounting every casual sexual fling they've ever had. So why must gay men? What are they trying to prove?

Rupert Everett is a strange one. He'd look better on stage, with those odd angular looks. In front of the camera, there's something a bit out of whack. Is he handsome or not? (Not that looks count.) When I first saw him as the comic foil in Wedding, I thought, God, he's a much better-looking Hugh Grant (and those comparisons may have been a factor in his also-ran status). Since then, I've changed my mind. He has that slightly inbred, Windsor look that does not wear well with age. His memoir is a hailstorm of dropped names, usually the sign of a sycophant on the fringes. He was born into privilege, and has the indolence and sense of entitlement that goes along with it. So where's my career? Why won't anyone hand it to me on a platter? You mean: I must work?

Hollywood is merciless, and practically anyone can slide down to the dreaded B-list, but it usually takes more than one bad picture. Everett has been consigned to drawing-room period pieces a la Oscar Wilde, in which he's usually wincingly cruel. Hollywood doesn't know what to do with him. Hugh Grant has filled the tiny space allotted for ironically humorous Englishmen. Now, with this memoir, Everett will probably never eat lunch in this town again.