Friday, 13 September 2013
Jeremy Bloody Irons.
I've been meaning to write a post on this bloke for ages but I always talked myself out of it. With all the crap going on in the world today there are far more important things to take up your valuable time than reading a post about Jeremy Irons.
But for the past two days I have been on a juice only diet to try and get back to my fighting weight when I return to work next week. This has left me with a bin full of mashed up fruit and veg pulp and a craving for solid food. It has also left me in something of a foul mood so I've decided that now is the time to scratch the itch in my brain that is Jeremy Irons.
He first flounced onto British TV screens in 1981 in the mini-series Brideshead Revisited, were he played an upper class Englishman in a cast full of upper class Englishmen. People who like watching period stuff like Downton Abbey might enjoy this, it's full of big, posh houses and angst ridden melancholy.
This seems to have given Irons a reputation and a long career in film and theatre that to be honest, I don't feel he has the talent to back up. I've seen him in many films over the years and his presence always seems to me to be a disappointment. Actors like Alison Steadman or Steve Buscemi, can be in mediocre films but always light up the screen when they are on and are enjoyable to watch.
Irons is exactly the opposite. You know he is an actor because when he performs he LOOKS like he is acting, it comes across as forced and unnatural. Try having a listen to his Southern States accent in the recent Beautiful Creatures, it is like something from a local amateur dramatic society. Knowing he is in a film somehow lowers the quality of it, the same way the presence of Richard Chamberlain used to do, or Pierce Brosnan. I can never take these guys seriously as actors.
I bet there are thousands of actors out there waiting tables and working in bars who could act Irons into the floor, but they haven't had the lucky break that he has had.
He is shit.
There, I've got that out of my system and it is as petty and small-minded as I feared it would be but I feel confident that Jeremy Irons will never hear of this rant and even on the off chance that he did, he would not care.
So I'll leave you to get on with the rest of your day and I will finish off the pint of cucumber, spinach, grapefruit and lemon juice that I am currently forcing down. It tastes a bit like one of those belches that brings a bit of sick up into my mouth.