HOLLYWOOD – Rogue One star Felicity Jones is the new den mother for ex-pat English drinking club The Jolly Bastards.
Felicity Jones takes over from Emilia Clarke as the new den mother of The Jolly Bastards. The Monster Calls and Rogue One star had this to say:
The Jolly Bastards are legendary. I’ve always been a bit starry-eyed, but to actually belong to the group is a dream come true. Emilia did a wonderful job and will be a tough act to follow. As tradition dictates, I killed a swan and used its head as a weapon as we fought on a greased pole with Emilia. It was a tough fight.
Begun in the 1930s as a slapping club for Cary Grant and David Niven, the Jolly Bastards has achieved notoriety for allegations of Swan murder and even human sacrifice. The LAPD for many years tried to bring charges, but were always confounded by the ‘delightful accents’ of the suspects. Emilia Clarke’s mothership of the group has seen an unprecedented shift in the diversity of the Bastards. Once seen as a bastion for male misbehavior the Bastards now features a number of feisty young English women, such as Emily Blunt and Keira Knightley. They can smash up restaurants, inflate cats and ignite policemen as good as Charles Dance.
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HOLLYWOOD- Sir Edwin Fluffer once again delves into his personal memoirs – soon to be published as ‘Not THAT Kind of Fluffer!!!’ – to recall Cary Grant.
Over the years I’ve been deeply honored to work with so many talented actors, some big, some small, but the only one who could convincingly pull off both was the wonderful Cary Grant.
The first time I saw ever saw Cary he was standing on the opposite side of that giant parking lot at Warners.
‘It can’t be him’ I thought, ‘he looks tiny!’
But as he walked toward me something happened that I can only describe as magical. With every step he appeared to get taller and taller until by the time he was stood next to me shaking my hand Cary Grant looked every inch of his full six feet. I was gobsmacked!
‘How did you do it I Cary?” I asked.
‘What, this?’ he grinned, and as he walked back to his car again he got smaller and smaller.
‘See you on set Neddy!’ he shouted and I was left there dumbstruck.
Over the years this little routine became Cary’s party piece.
We’d marvel at his height over cocktails, then he’d say ‘right, watch this,’ open the patio doors and walk down to the end of the garden. By the time he got to the fence he’d become a fraction of his normal size.
Myrna Loy went to her grave convinced it was witchcraft, but over a particularly fine brandy late one night Cary let me into his secret. It turns out that before he left England for Hollywood he was in the circus, and Cary had picked up this trick from an old gypsy lady in return for a ten bob note. On a visit back to Blighty I did try to track her down, only to discover that she’d passed away many years before and taken her secret with her.
I was eventually charged with three counts of grave robbing and the studio had to hand over rather a rather large sum of money to get them dropped, but that’s another story…
HOLLYWOOD – It was Edward G. Robinson on the phone.
There’d been a raffle in the staff canteen over at Warner Bros in aid of orphaned goats and he’d won two tickets to the circus. Tod Browning had offered him $20 for the pair but dear Ed was giving me first refusal.
Everyone in Tinsel Town knew of my love for the big top. My darling mother had been a bearded lady and one of my fathers had left the adoring crowds open mouthed and speechless by riding the strong man bareback. I asked Groucho Marx to come along with me even though I knew his pathological fear of clowns meant I would have to hold his hand the whole time.
But what a night! And what a show! We went backstage after to congratulate the artists who kindly presented us with a tiger. This is the circus folk’s traditional way of asking you to stop making eyes at Sandra The Sword Swallowing Sylph and kindly leave. We finally managed to lose it on the set of Bringing up Baby where I’m afraid it caused all sorts of problems for Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn, and Groucho later turned the entire incident into that marvellous picture Nights at the Circus.
I spoke to my lawyer about it but was poorly advised and ended up trying to sue him for regicide.
But that’s another story…
The Divine Garbo, photographed by Cecil Beaton. I used to stand behind him waving a rattle, but could I make her laugh? Could I bugger!
Cary Grant bet me $50 I’d never get my pilot’s licence. I said that if he could get to the cactus and back before me, we’d go double or quits.
Not you again! Due to an administrative error I’ve now been knighted by Her Majesty The Queen no fewer than three times. This beats the previous record set by Sir John Mills in 1992.
Visiting my dear old mate Ally Guinness on the set of Star Wars. Of course I jumped at the chance of a cameo. ‘Just grab a mask, sit at the back, and don’t touch anything,’ he said.
No-one even knew it was me!