The Sex Pistols on the front page of the Daily Mirror, December 2, 1976
My skin still crawls if you call me a movie star. I get embarrassed. I think, don’t be ridiculous. Maybe it’s because I’m British. To me, Julia Roberts that’s a movie star. But when people do call me one, that, I think, is an enormous compliment but, my God, is that a responsibility.
- Kate Winslet
Hades, aka Mr. Talks-to-his-roses-so-they-grow-bigger, aka Mr. lets-his-wife-make-him-flower-crowns, aka Mr. I-will-judge-your-soul-while-wearing-this-crown-of-daises.
"It’s literally the definition of an emotional rollercoaster,” Aaron splutters. “It was something quite extraordinary and quite shocking. So many dark places - some light too though. There’s so many textures to his character and the fact that it’s a true story and quite a delicate one made it all the more pressured when approaching it.” - On the role of John Lennon.
James McAvoy attends the red carpet arrivals of “The Disappearance Of Eleanor Rigby” during the 58th BFI London Film Festival at Odeon West End on October 17, 2014 in London, England.
I consider myself a sightly doddly diddly young English lad who enjoys acting and never really thought he could carve out a career for it. I’m fun-loving with a nice ounce of English pessimism. (x)
These shots of him are just beautiful. How menacing they make him look just by way he walks and holds his weapon with authority. How he takes his time to get to Fury. The way his hair blows in the wind and his body moves across the cloud of white smoke as if he had just materialized out of thin air. And then you have that perfect mechanical music in the background that sound like nails on a blackboard and white noise.