The Richard Burton Diaries

by Richard Burton

  Thursday 31st [...] Today I received a letter from Franco saying that he felt better able to write his thoughts than speak them as his English is not too reliable. A very good excuse for not facing somebody with something unpleasant. Wasn't it Winston Churchill who always fired his underlings by letter? Who would have thought the Old Man to have had so much milk in him.40 Anyway, the letter said that he had designed and had had made a new first costume for me and would I come in at 4.00 to try it. I went and of course waited twenty minutes. At first I was dismayed by its weight and size but having tried it on felt better at once. I tested it immediately and will see the result tomorrow at about 11 o'clock. It had better be good. Irene Sharaff is obviously upset and since I find her bone-lazy, inflexible faintly condescending to most people, an intellectual (though she is not overblessed in that department) snob and a crashing bore my sympathy is tempered with discretion. Old Snapshot however adores her and I must use tact and so on to keep her.41 Lizabet also thinks her talented but I tend to think, as always, that, apart from the odd one here or there, dress designers are like photographers – mere copiers. Take enough snaps, copy enough paintings and some of ‘em are bound to be alright.

  We learned lines, read books, learned a little Italian (me) in the bedroom suite, had a dinner, both of us ravenous, of roast chicken, potatoes, salad, cheese, and fruit all washed down, in my case with water – I don't fancy drink at the moment – in Snapshot's case with a Vin Rosé. [...]

  APRIL

  Friday 1st What a day! I went in at about 11.30 to see the test of the new costume. It was alright – at least it was better than the other. I then had it refitted and will try it on again tomorrow, Saturday.

  Since the atmosphere is now electric I decided to try and do something about it so I took Irene home for lunch and told Zeffirelli I would see him at 6.00. He agreed. The lunch was frightening. Irene really hates the Italian and described my costume as 1930 Opera. She was not, she said, prepared to be a sketch artist for FZ.42 I don't know what else she is supposed to be. Shumdit says she didn't mean it that way.43 Finally, at lunch, I was so exasperated by the repetitious complaining that I left the table snarling ‘You'll excuse me, I'm in a bad mood.’ Shumdit said with her usual immense tact, ‘Really, Richard?’ I snarled again something witty like ‘Shut your mouth’ and went tramping furiously over our few acres with E'en So.

  When I returned I kissed Shumdit better and then began to attack again because I thought she'd gossiped with the Princess something-or-other who is designing her frock for Mike Todd Junior's TV show about his father.44 Then we kissed it all better again.

  And so to the studio. I told Z that things must be altered, that he shouldn't make costumes behind our backs. He said he had to take the law into his own hands as Irene was so inflexible and that his respect for her had turned into disrespect. He described her costume as 1930 touring version of Shrew in America. I said, as far as I was concerned, he could do all the bloody costumes but E Shumdit was adamant re Irene's clothes and that if she turned cold on him that that would be the end of her performance. If there were any more hold-ups I said due to costume problems somebody, I said straight in his eyes, would have to go. We had invested $2,000,000 in this venture and I didn't want another Cleopatra.

  McWhorter, who was present throughout, asked if he had any other costumes in preparation. Z. said No! No! but I knew he was lying. I suggested that he stop being devious and meet head-on with Irene and scream at her if necessary so that she could scream back. But stop, I begged, being so bloody Machiavellian. He said he would, but only after he'd seen E. Shumdit. So we are to have lunch with him tomorrow. Immediately I was in the car on the way home I realized that Mario had mentioned taking the children to the Spanish Steps to see the flowers and so will cancel the lunch tomorrow when I get up.45

  I was so fed up I had three glasses of wine and two large brandies in about 1/2 hour, ate my pasta, and went to bed. We shouted at each other a bit but nothing serious.

  Labour won the election easily. Don't know the final count but it's likely to be about a 100 majority. Anyway they're in to stay.

  Saturday 2nd And we drove to Rome to the Spanish Steps which wasn't a very good idea as the floral decorations have only just begun; they will obviously be prettier by next weekend. We lunched at a very good restaurant called ‘Chianti’.46 I had an enormous and very good rare T. Bone Steak. E had the speciality chicken. We all (the children were with us) had ravioli to start. Delicious. Maria seemed still asleep at lunch – she had slept all the way in in the car. She suffers, poor dab, from permanent nasal and bronchial irritations.

  E + I went to see FZ at the studio. A lot of talk went on but I can't remember much about it. By that time I was sloshed.

  We then went to Garden City for Pizza and then home when we talked with Mario about that frightful weekend at Porto Santa Stefano 4 years ago.47

  It depressed me profoundly and I stared a lot and slept at last.

  Sunday 3rd Woke late again at 10.30 largely I suppose because we both woke at 1.30 – 2.00 in the morning and talked until 5–6.

  We went for birthday lunch to Richard Hanley's and J. Lee and very nice it was [...] I met Chas Beal the negro pianist.48 Aaron was there as well as M. Todd Junior, Irene Sharaff, Mai-Mai, MacWhorter and wife, Agnes and Frank Flanagan, Frank LaRue, Ron Berkeley.49 [...]

  We had an early dinner at L'Escargot and went home.50 Little Liza fell down the stairs, little clown and bruised her face quite badly. She is likely to have a couple of splendid black eyes tomorrow. I asked her if she cried. She said Yes. I could eat her.

  Very edgy and cantankerous. No doubt the prospect of working tomorrow is the reason. Always the same before I start a job.

  Monday 4th My first day on the film. I was as nervous as a horse at the thought of riding one around a roaring fire with extras all over the place. However I did it reasonably competently.

  I was at the studio at 7.30 having driven myself in the Toronado (picked up by the Police Car overtaking a lorry over the continuous white line but fortunately I was being followed by our own policeman who arranged everything satisfactorily and amiably) and found that I was 11/2 hours too early. My call was for 9.00. I rehearsed with Cyril Cusack and Victor Spinetti but in fact did not appear before the cameras until about 3.30.51

  E. arrived for lunch with M. Todd. Later we were joined by Johnny Sullivan and new puppy Pekinese white as snow and adorable who is named by us Oh Fie. He is to be, we hope E'en So's husband.

  I had a remarkable sex and religion conversation with Cyril who is vastly tempted by some Roman woman. He is, I think, and he thinks so too, immature sexually. He does not have my wide experience of rabid wild oats. I told him that I couldn't, but then I am impervious to that kind of temptation since I fell in love with Cantank.52

  I became very drunk later and shouted a lot. At E. I don't know what about. Just plain sloshed.

  Tuesday 5th Was at work again today, this time at the proper hour. We continued with the scene. FZ sprang some more new lines on us. He mustn't do that. It's very throwing. We got through. E. arrived for lunch. Aaron was there, J. Sullivan, then Mia Farrow and Mike Nichols arrived from NY.53 That M. Nichols really gets the girls. I wish Farrow would put on 15lbs and grow her hair.

  I did one shot after lunch with Cyril and Victor Spinetti and then showered and waited around to do my off-stage lines. I wasn't needed but said I'd be there tomorrow for that purpose. If I appear at all it will be late in the day I imagine. E. is doing her show for M. Todd tomorrow. [...]

  I read the Capote–Tynan thing in the Observer.54 [...] I think Capote was righter than Tynan though I wish it hadn't been so scurrilously written. ‘morals of a baboon’ ‘this faded hipster’ etc. I have yet to see Tynan's reply to Capote's reply to Tynan.55

  We were in bed by 10.00 I think. I was stiff from the horse and irritable as an old man and tired.

  Wednesday 6th I went in on Wed by 9.00 and did my off stage lines. Great trouble w
ith the poor dog and the horse. Latter went slightly crazy at one moment and kicked Cyril in the belly. However Cyril (Cusack) was so near the horse that it couldn't really get any purchase. Cyril however will be bruised tomorrow. E who was supposed to TV for M. Todd very ill from that bloody bleeding. We have sent for a doctor from London. I went to bed in a huge depression and nightmares of her dying.

  Thursday 7th Took the boys with me to work and they stayed all day. We worked steadily all day long [...] M. Nichols and M. Farrow were with E when I came home. Doubtful now if we'll be able to go to Venice this weekend. E feels better and the bleeding has stopped. [...]

  Friday 8th [...] Was called to be ready at 10.00 and was but didn't appear before the cameras until about 11.00. Spinetti said at that time. ‘I'd love a glass of cold champagne.’ I said ‘Bob! Champagne please.’ And we had – Cyril, Victor, Bob and myself – champagne. Dom Perignon.

  The children arrived for lunch Michael wearing an ear-ring as a nose-ring. [...] In the afternoon I was interviewed by the Daily Mail man called Barry Norman.56 I talked too much but it's so tedious to guard one's tongue for four hours.

  We had lamb stew for supper and later I told Maria the story of her life. She was very impressed.

  E is better. Hooray. She has to have a curetage(?).57 Diolch iddo byth am gofio llwch y llawr.58

  Since we were not able to go to Venice I have, to E's disgust, agreed to work tomorrow.

  E has blood pressure of 90 – very low apparently – from loss of blood.

  Saturday 9th [...] I worked with Cyril and Victor Spinetti. Between shots I saw the rushes.59 They looked very good. However, disturbingly, we are falling behind schedule. I asked MacWhorter why, he said that Franco was slow. He apparently turns up for work only on the stroke of 9am which means he hasn't checked the set etc. FZ rather lazy I suspect in an energetic way. Does nothing but with great show. I'll give him a couple more days and then I'll have to talk to him. Bloody nuisance.

  After work (we were lunchless as we worked straight through) which finished at 3pm I had my usual shower and shampoo and then had drinks with M. Hordern, Alan Webb, Cyril C. and Victor Spin.60 What a boiling ‘of battered’ egos in one room, except perhaps for Webb – except that he too must regret the lost stardom of his earlier years. Stories were vied for. Of course I'm not the least offender in that direction though I enjoy immensely a well told, if reasonably believable, theatrical yarn. And there are lots.

  At dinner we talked with the children. We talked of the immensity of space. I said that doubtless by their (the children) middle age trips to the moon might be quite common. Maria said, ‘Don't go to the moon tomorrow Richard, it's Easter Sunday.’ I said I wouldn't bother in that case.

  We went to bed quite early though I tried to stay awake reading. E sluggish from those doctor pill. I'll be glad when she doesn't have to take them anymore.

  Sunday 10th [...] A lovely day sharp and breezy with sun and clouds – they fought all day. Eggs were hidden in the garden by the boys and Gaston for the two girls to find. Suitable finagling went on so that they both ended up roughly equal.61 Then Gaston hid eggs in the front garden for the boys to find. Same thing. A little finagling again and some cheating. There were quite a lot of presents. Easter is getting more and more like Xmas. We stayed within the grounds all day. I went for two brisk walks with the boys and Liza. [...]

  I read the Sunday papers and learned some lines. I'm not far from the end now. In about two weeks I should be home.

  We dined on a pasta (rigatoni) in the hope that the cook could make, at least, an Italian dish. It wasn't bad and I was hungry so that helped. But she really is an indifferent cook. She used to work for De Sica so we know what he feels about food.

  Received a long telegram from Josh Logan asking me to do Camelot for Warners.62 Don't see how I can. And don't want to much anyway. He (Logan) says the new script is magnificent etc. and all that tripe. I'll read it anyway.

  Maria very upset when I told her not to be rude to E. She remained silent and hang-dog for the rest of the evening.

  Monday 11th [...] This is the first time in the writing of this diary that I have done so on the day indicated in the title. Usually it is the next morning or afternoon. Tonight however – it is a quarter to midnight – I am unable to sleep. This is by no means an un-regular occurrence. I frequently wake in the small hours and lie awake sometimes for two or three hrs, sometimes all night. But tonight is caused by a chemical product called ‘FINALGON.’ It is German. It was given me when I was in Garmish(?) by Oskar Werner.63 It is supposed to burn away aching muscles and fibrositic complaints etc. It is applied on externally and is a pale yellow or ivory white cream. It burns like hell. I applied some tonight about 9.00pm, very little, and it is burning still. I pulled, wrenched or bruised a thigh muscle this afternoon trying to kick a small ball over the garage from the sunken garden. I lost the ball and gained some pain.

  So tonight instead of lying there in the near-darkness and sweat from the burning ‘Finalgon’ I thought I'd kill the burn and the diary with one fell descent. [...]

  E was visited by the Dr from Rome who says she should have shots for two more days, that the curetage will not be necessary, that she can work on Thursday or Friday. That she may come to the Studio tomorrow for lunch if she limits it to 11/2 hours. Hip Hip.

  Today we had a letter from Mia Farrow. It is written in a huge childlike hand and is so goody as to invite suspicion of affection. I remember her at lunch forever apologizing, with eyes as round as her fist, for her silly little ability not to know anybody in theatre or films before her time – which she inferred was last week. Or last year. She and M. Nichols appear to be in love and register in hotels as Mr and Mrs N.

  I think, now, that, as the tiny Macaulay is reputed to have said to an enquiring lady, the agony is abated. He was four or something.64 So I'll try to sleep again.

  Maria is invested with every conceivable kind of fear, or as her very competent nurse Karen says, ‘she scares easy.’ She saw a lizard today and cried with fright. What's to do. Leave it to love, I suppose, and time. The other day, with me on a walk, she refused to walk over a line of tiny ants, out of terror. I had to get her over by totally ignoring her and walking on. She was as animated and talkative about this experience as if she'd just crossed the Atlantic single handed in a rubber dinghy.

  Work tomorrow. Mickey Rudin arrived today.65 Nevill Coghill arrives tomorrow.66 My anti-social tendencies, even with people I know well, are going to be very strained – unless I get drunk. And I don't feel like it.

  Tuesday 12th First call and work. [...] Am late this morning so be brief. Telegrammese. E to go into hospital tomorrow for curetage. Came to lunch with me and felt sick and faint. On arrive home bled. [...] Poor little thing. I shouted and bawled at her for being ‘unfit’ for lack of discipline, for taking too much booze. I think I was talking about myself – out of fear for her. God get tomorrow over rapidly.

  Bach gan, I love you.67 [Elizabeth Taylor's hand.]

  Wednesday 13th What a day. I went to work at 7.30 and was made up and learned lines. We shot quite early about 9.30. All the time I waited for the ‘phone to ring. E. finally called from the hospital about 11.30 to say that nobody there could speak Italian. I suggested she get Dick's secretary who is bilingual.

  I took E'en So for a long walk around the studio. It is a pleasant place. I thought a lot about our lives and shades of mortality grew round me like a mist.

  I lunched alone in my room, did some Italian, and waited for the phone to ring. And waited. And waited. I read a whole book, rather precious, by Arthur Machen called The London Adventure.68 Then the blower blew and joy of joys it was herself on the other end and the operation was over and she was in pain but alive and will live to be shouted at another day.

  I finished work at 4.00. Showered. Had my vodka and tonic. Sped to the hospital. [...] Read papers with E. Got gruff and bawled a lot about supper's slowness and went home in a typical huff. Before arri
ving home I stopped (Mario drove) in St Peter's and stared at the whole huge thing and muttered under my breath.69

  Talked to E on telephone and we went to sleep reasonably happy.

  Thursday 14th Elizabeth was expected home at 9.45am. I wasn't called to work and we all [...] waited by the potting shed for her to arrive. Then a message came to say at 10.15 that she had left 10 minutes before. [...] Eventually she did come and sat downstairs for a time and had a drink. She looked pale and wan fond lover and eventually went upstairs to bed.70 The kids were all embarrassed and awed and sat around like wilting lettuces. E sent them out to show the nurse – Alex – the grounds. I am to sleep with the boys tonight. They are delighted.

  I [...] had lunch with Nevill Coghill. We watched some shooting and had lunch with some of the cast – Alan Webb, Hordern, Spinetti, Michael York.71 M. York was up at Oxford too I discovered his real name is Johnson. Nevill didn't remember him. Afterwards we watched the rushes which appear to be at least very good.

  Then home with Nevill to see E, by this time I was somewhat sloshed, and talked around her bed. She tells me that I was nasty again. Obviously I shouldn't drink more than a glass or two of wine, and weak wine at that.

  I slept with the boys. At one time we all went downstairs and I made soup for us all. Tinned soup of course. E was furious that we didn't include her but we didn't know she was awake.

  I work tomorrow. First call.

  Friday 15th, Saturday 16th and Sunday 17th Did two shots only after which, Liza, Mike, Chris, Nevill – Ron Berkeley and I went down to Ron's seaside restaurant and ate and drank until 1.00 in the a.m. Again slept with the boys but also Maria and Liza. Bedlam.