Benedict and Tom are the ultimate luvvie double act

NEVER mind his Gucci ads in the furry slippers with the Afghan hounds, unforgettable as they might be. Now all eyes are on Tom Hiddleston’s new photo shoot for an arty publication.

In the latest edition of Interview magazine, Hiddles puts on his best moody face to pose in an assortment of perv-leather trousers and questionable caps in a bombed-out basement. He tries his best but, come on, he looks about as butch and forbidding as a biker Tweety Pie.

If the pictures are bad, the words are worse. Instead of being confronted by a journalist who might ask embarrassing questions about T*yl*r Sw*ft, Hiddleston is ‘grilled’ by his great friend, the actor Benedict Cumberbatch. The result is something that takes the concept of being a luvvie, multiplies it by 1,000 luvvie-watts and transports it to the high altar of luvvieness in the Church of St Luvvie, Luv-land.

‘Tom,’ says Benedict, ‘you’re an equally eloquent writer and actor. And you’ve got a great reputation as a cineaste. You do amazing things for charity.’

Tom does not demur and goes on to explain what jogging is. ‘Just me out there in the elements, with only my own legs to propel me forward, being in the world,’ he says. ‘Yes, there’s something so mobile about you,’ agrees Benedict, as the two thesps go on to swap their greatest fears. BC fears passing time, while TH fears that he might in future regret things he has not done. But what about the things he has done, especially in these past few months? Is Hiddleston on some kind of penance, a form of highprofile flagellation which will only stop when he finally ridicules himself in front of the entire world? If so, it has been a triumph so far.