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How I fell crazily in love with Katharine Hepburn

- by Brian Blessed EXTRACTED from Absolute Pandemoniu­m by Brian Blessed, to be published by Sidgwick & Jackson on October 8 at £20. © Brian Blessed 2015. To pre-order a copy for £14 visit mailbooksh­op. co.uk or call 0808 272 0808. Discount until October 3,

BEING an actor in films has many advantages, as I discovered when in 1971 I got the only lead male part in a film of Euripides’ play The Trojan Women. On the set in Spain, there were 2,000 extras, all women, all very sultry.

But they came with a severe warning. I was advised by the director not to sleep with any of them. ‘Quite,’ I responded nonchalant­ly. ‘If I slept with one, I’d be insulting the rest. Anyway, I’m here to work, not to have sex.’

The truth was slightly different. Though I was in my mid-30s and a big, red-blooded male in every sense, at the time I was never terribly comfortabl­e around women. Not socially, at least.

I was very much a man’s man. I liked boxing and judo and fencing, and I rarely came into contact with women outside of what I was doing on stage or TV. So I had no difficulty in ignoring the thousands of swarming extras.

But the same did not go for the principals, who just happened to be four stunning, worldclass actresses — Vanessa redgrave, Irene Papas, Geneviève Bujold and Katharine Hepburn, one of Hollywood’s true greats.

Sensing my unease at working in such illustriou­s female company, the director insisted I take them out to dinner. And so I found myself at a fabulous restaurant in Madrid with Hepburn, Papas and Bujold. (redgrave was unavailabl­e — she was otherwise engaged.)

Geneviève (famous as Anne Boleyn opposite richard Burton in Anne Of A Thousand Days) was inquisitiv­e and coquettish, asking if I was a randy person and what kind of women I liked.

Irene, a fiery Greek who’d been in Guns Of Navarone and Zorba, took me for a stiff-upper-lip Englishman she could shock and asked bluntly: ‘So Brian, how do you f***?’

I pondered a while, before replying: ‘Well, these days, love, I prefer to have a good s**t!’ — at which she exploded with laughter and then kissed me on the head.

But the one I was most intrigued by was the mighty Hepburn, with an eye-watering array of credits, from The Philadelph­ia Story to The African Queen and Oscars for Guess Who’s Coming To Dinner and The Lion In Winter.

I was star-struck when introduced to her, and she chatted on about the problem she had with freckles, some as big as two inches across, which covered her neck and face. She had to put witch hazel on them, apparently.

I couldn’t believe I was with her. She represente­d the golden age of Hollywood, having worked with Jimmy Stewart, Spencer Tracy, John Wayne, Humphrey Bogart...

She simply oozed quality. There was something terribly masterful about her, yet completely unpretenti­ous. She was very graceful and quiet but also kind and considerat­e.

That night in Madrid, she was attentive and quietly concerned about me, looking over and nodding to me, as if to say, ‘Are you OK, Brian?’ It was the beginning of a relationsh­ip, a mini-love affair, you might say — and one that never ceased to amaze me.

But I did not let her greatness faze me when she and I did our first scene together, in which I had to tell her, as Hecuba, Queen of Troy, that her daughter was dead. When the camera stopped, I was asked my opinion and I said I thought we had both been pretty lousy.

Her hackles went rigid. Here was this unknown English actor — ‘Well, well, Mr Blessed!’ — criticisin­g her!

I suggested how she could do the scene to make it more effective, and she huffed and puffed, and then took on board what I had said. We did another take, and it was great. From that day on, whenever I had a scene with her and something went awry, either she or I would accuse the other of being lousy and we would put it right immediatel­y.

So right from the beginning we had this wonderfull­y honest relationsh­ip.

Working with Hepburn would be the pinnacle of any actor’s career, but actually becoming her friend was a different thing altogether.

She was one of the most intelligen­t and fiercely independen­t women Hollywood has ever seen. She was Boudicca in slacks.

She found the concept of celebrity both tiresome and superficia­l, and lived by her belief that we should be kind to each other and help other people whenever we can. Simple but salient words.

She was opinionate­d and outspoken, yet could back up every word that came out of her mouth. We discussed hundreds of subjects during our time together, and I was always the pupil to her teacher.

She taught me so much about so much, and lived her life with passion and conviction.

And she just loved talking about Spencer Tracy, who had been her long-term lover until his death four years earlier. He was one of the best, certainly, a towering cinematic figure, but I’m afraid she did go on about him like a broken record.

If anyone so much as mentioned another actor, she would automatica­lly compare them, unfavourab­ly, of course, to good old Spence. But, him apart, I got the distinct feeling that the whole of mankind had irritated her, so for her to want to spend so much time with me was something special.

DURING the filming in Spain, she had me moved to an apartment next to hers. ‘I want Brian closer to me,’ she told the director bluntly.

She was in her early 60s and I in my 30s, and our relationsh­ip, I freely admit, engulfed me for a time. It became slightly more than just a friendship.

In fact, I’d go as far as to say that it was akin to an old-fashioned courtship. We always held hands while we walked and talked together and, when I saw her to her door each evening, I would embrace her, tell her what a wonderful time I’d had and then kiss her lightly on the

cheek. She would reciprocat­e. We never, ever talked about sex or anything like that, but I always left her feeling buoyed and ever so slightly in love. I did find her very attractive and I enjoyed kissing her. It remained quite innocent, but neverthele­ss delightful.

Of course, there was much talk of Spencer. Off camera, she always wore his trousers and shirts, throwing them on the moment she was out of costume. Some people found this strange, but I never did.

She was still terribly devoted to him and had no intention of allowing time to heal her loss. She wanted to protect his memory. Wearing his clobber obviously went at least some way to fulfilling that desire.

Theirs had been one of Hollywood’s great love affairs. They were both outrageous­ly strong characters and had an attraction to each other that was stronger than gravity.

no man had ever got to Hepburn before. She destroyed men — made mincemeat of them physically and mentally — but in Spencer she found her match and, in her, so had he.

I remember her telling me how she handled his lack of height, about which he could be very sensitive. ‘My first words to him, Brian, were: “Oh my, you’re a lot shorter than I imagined.” And he said: “Don’t worry, I’ll soon cut you down to size.” Then he gave me the evil eye.’

But, by God, she could be annoying, as she went on and on about him. On one occasion, Geneviève was praising my prowess as a horseman. ‘Spencer rode a horse just as well,’ snapped Hepburn. And I lost it!

‘I’m bored to death of hearing about Spencer bloody Tracy!’ I roared. ‘It doesn’t matter if I’m riding a horse or running a bath, he could have done it better! If he’s in heaven, I don’t know how the angels can match him!

‘If he was here now I’d break his neck and then his fingers, one after the other. He wouldn’t last two minutes with me. End of conversati­on!’

KATHARINE had obviously never heard anyone say anything rude about Spencer before, and there was a look of total shock on her face. And then she began to weep, with laughter!

‘Am I really that bad?’ she asked. ‘I’ll try and give him a rest.’

Emboldened, I launched into a speech I’d been longing to make. ‘Katharine,’ I said, ‘for me you are still one of the sexiest and most desirable women on God’s earth.’

She looked at me long and hard, then whispered, with a smile: ‘You’re good. Oh yes, you’re very good!’

Such was my devotion to her that one day I ran five miles in 40c heat to get some medicine she needed for the freckles on her face. But she showed her devotion to me, too, when we were filming a particular scene in the desert. The weather suddenly switched, the wind sprang up and I was so cold my teeth wouldn’t stop chattering.

Katharine led me over to her car, enveloped me in her and rubbed me for a quarter of an hour… every bit of me — head, stomach, backside, legs. The care she showed me then and always was just staggering.

When eventually filming came to an end, on location in a remote area of central Spain, and it was time for me to go home, she wanted to paint a picture for me as a memento of her, but I said no. ‘I don’t want anything material from you,’ I said. ‘You gave me friendship. I want nothing more.’

I meant what I said. Her generosity knew no bounds and her friendship had been unconditio­nal. I needed nothing more.

And I knew I was really going to miss her. Thanks to her, those three months had been among the most fascinatin­g and fulfilling of my life.

She insisted on taking me to the airport. She cried as she drove and so, to comfort her, I rested my hand on her shoulder. At the airport, there was my plane waiting to take me to Madrid and home.

‘This is it then,’ I said. ‘Thank you for being such wonderful company.’ She said: ‘It’s been such a pleasure getting to know you, Brian. I’ll never forget our time together.’

She stared deep into my eyes, her cheeks now streaming with tears, then planted little kisses on my cheeks, my forehead and my lips. ‘God be with you, Brian,’ she said. ‘God love you and take good care of you. Always keep God in your heart, Brian. I promise I’ll pray for you.’

Which, given that she had always maintained to the press that she was a complete atheist, was an amazing statement about her true feelings, and a personal insight —just for me — into the huge mystery that was Katharine Hepburn.

As I flew away, I remembered how not long before she had confided in me her philosophy.

She was a woman constantly in the public eye and constantly criticised. Because she was always seen to be so hard on men, she was branded a lesbian. Because she never wanted children, she was accused of being self-centred.

But the truth was that she was happy because ‘I love life’. She told me: ‘Always say “yes” to life, Brian. And don’t obey all the rules because you’ll miss all the fun. As for death, I have no problem with it. In fact, I’m quite looking forward to it. no more interviews!’

These are sentiments I have lived by ever since.

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 ?? S E R P A R E M A C : e r u t c i P ?? Confidence­s: Katharine Hepburn and Brian Blessed became devoted friends
S E R P A R E M A C : e r u t c i P Confidence­s: Katharine Hepburn and Brian Blessed became devoted friends

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