OLIVIER, Sir Lawrence
Thirty years on, there’s still a kind of kinship that separates those who saw Larry’s Oedipus from those who didn’t…Will anyone who was there ever forget Larry’s ear-splitting scream of anguish which all but took the roof off the New Theatre? I once asked Larry where he’d discovered that terrible noise. It was the cry of a bull moose caught by the knackers in a trap, he told me, a ghastly high-pitched wail of agony he’d first heard when hunting in Canada as a young man.
Larry gives each word of a part a unique rasp of danger which is his and his alone, and yet – and this is the really extraordinary thing about him – when he’s sitting quietly on the train to Brighton, if it wasn’t for his enormous false nose, his stage makeup and his habit of suddenly bellowing like a bull moose caught by the knackers, he could be mistaken for any other commuter on his way home after a hard day as the office.
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