The Suite Life. Christopher HeardЧитать онлайн книгу.
that re-examined the famous mutiny on the Bounty, with an eye toward realism over seafaring drama.) The fellow then stepped to the pool and hunched down to say something to me as I swam close. “Would you mind if I took a look at your book? I’ll mind not to lose your page.” I told him he was welcome to it. The guy was actor Daniel Day-Lewis, after all.
When I finished swimming, I got out of the pool and sat next to where Day-Lewis reclined. He told me he had a particular interest in the Bounty story, since he had done something on it himself years ago. I said I was well aware of that. Day-Lewis had played Master’s Mate John Fryer in the Anthony Hopkins/Mel Gibson film The Bounty.
“Ah, you know it?” he asked.
I told him I was an admirer of the movie and that it would have been fantastic if it had been made as originally planned as a giant two-part epic directed by David Lean (New Zealander Roger Donaldson ending up doing it instead). I said it would have been a spellbinding bit of cinema to have Lean reunited with his Lawrence of Arabia screenwriter Robert Bolt for such a saga. Part one would have been the voyage and the mutiny, while part two would have been the unbelievable feat of seamanship performed by the cut-adrift Captain William Bligh, who piloted a launch for months with no food or water and got his men to safety.
Day-Lewis studied me with a strange smile. “My, my, you know an awful lot about that film. May I ask why you know all that?”
I explained what I did, and we conversed for more than an hour, but not about films or acting. Instead we chatted about the mutiny on the Bounty and what life at sea must have been like. When he left for his meeting, we shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. I never saw Daniel Day-Lewis again in person, but my admiration for him as an actor doubled because of that accidental meeting at the Bel-Air. His intelligence and esoteric wonder about what other people think and feel are the reasons he’s a great actor.
One morning after a lovely breakfast with Charles Fitzer at an outdoor table, he asked if I’d like to see one of the bigger suites the hotel had to offer. He told me he could show me around the suite Oprah Winfrey kept on hold for her trips to California. I knew a woman who was a rabid Oprah fan, so I agreed to check it out. We strolled over, and once we got into the suite, it was pretty much what I expected it to be — spacious and comfortable. The suite came with its own private swimming pool, small fountain, and terrace. I thanked Charles for guiding me around the rooms, and as we were leaving, I grabbed a Bel-Air pen from one of the coffee tables and stuck it in my pocket. I wanted to give it to my Oprah-loving friend. When I eventually gave her the pen, she reacted as though I’d brought her a religious relic I’d snatched from the Vatican!
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On the subject of older grand hotels, one of the oldest and grandest in the world has to be Château Frontenac in Quebec City. Château Frontenac belongs to the Fairmont family of hotels in Canada, many of which were originally built by Canadian Pacific Railway. When you see Château Frontenac looming above historic Quebec City, it almost seems as if the solid edifice has always been there and that the rest of the provincial capital grew up around it. There is such an awesome majesty about even the look of the place, let alone its interior, which is every bit as majestic and awesome. The hotel was actually designed by American architect Bruce Price and opened in 1893. It was named after Louis de Buade, Count of Frontenac, who was the governor of New France from 1672 to 1682 and from 1689 to 1698 and was responsible for building the nearby Citadelle.
Of the many times I’ve stayed at Château Frontenac, two stand out above all the rest. Coincidentally, I was in the same suite both times — a terrific one high up near the top of the hotel. The bedroom area had a low-sloped ceiling because of the configuration of the roof, and a hallway led to an enormous bathroom with an immense tub. Directly across from the tub was an alcove where a desk sat before a window that offered a stunning view of Quebec City. During that time, I was writing a magazine piece about Château Frontenac, which The Guinness Book of Records lists as holding the record for the most photographed hotel in the world.
Because of the assignment I was doing, I was treated to an extraordinary evening. I was asked to join a few members of the hotel management and public relations staff for dinner in a room that wasn’t a designated dining area but an ornate sitting room. It was explained to me that the room was used at the 1943 Quebec Conference by President Franklin D. Roosevelt and Prime Minister Winston Churchill for relaxed conversations about the direction of the Second World War. The actual strategy meetings were held at the Citadelle, but when the two leaders talked off the record it was in the room where we were eating.
Dinner was a magnificent treat of French-Canadian cuisine, including a tourtière, a meat pie made from local game and the best I’ve ever had and no doubt ever will. As dinner wound down, a guest joined us. The door opened, and Louis de Buade, Count of Frontenac, strolled in. Of course, it was an actor playing the count, but his costume and wig were perfect. I thought this was a wonderful touch to the evening and rose to be introduced to him. I stuck out my hand to shake hands, but the count quickly pulled a pair of white gloves from his waistcoat and swatted my hands with them hard.
Château Frontenac in Quebec City is one of the Fairmont chain’s grand old railway hotels. In the foreground is Auberge Saint-Antoine.
(Courtesy Fairmont Hotels & Resorts)
Momentarily, I was taken aback, then the count explained that since I was a commoner, it was highly inappropriate for me to approach him with such misguided familiarity, let alone expect to touch him. I apologized. Then he told me that simply bowing before him was sufficient. I frowned and leaned toward a public relations woman beside me. “Is he actually expecting me to bow to him?”
She winked and whispered, “Just play along.”
So I made a big gesture of bowing with sweeping arms before the count. He nodded and strode regally over to his chair at the end of the table; I was seated to his left. Of course, he stood behind his chair, indicating I was to pull it out for him. I played along. The count began a history lesson that was so engrossing and detailed that within 15 minutes I completely lost touch with reality and started thinking he actually was the Count of Frontenac. I even asked him questions and talked to him as if he were the real McCoy. “When you arrived here, Count, those first years must have been awfully challenging, given how inhospitable nature can be in this region.” He answered with such depth, with such authority of feeling, that I was truly mesmerized. After about 90 minutes, he got up to leave. Without prompting, I bowed to him very naturally, then he whipped out his sword and placed it on my shoulder. I almost cried. It was an incredible evening, and a brilliant public relations tool.
Another memorable time at Château Frontenac was when I interviewed the actors in a film — the thriller Taking Lives starring Angelina Jolie and Ethan Hawke — that was shooting there and around Quebec City and Montreal. One day I was sitting on the set when the production took over the entranceway to the hotel for a couple of shots of Angelina’s character first arriving in a car, then rushing out the door for another scene to be used later in the film. It was a windy day, so there was a lot of waiting around for clouds to clear in order to match the various angles of the shots in terms of lighting. After I got the official interview stuff completed with Jolie and casually related some of the hotel’s history, I recounted my meeting with the Count of Frontenac himself. Then I told the actress that in 1953 Alfred Hitchcock was so impressed by Château Frontenac that he used it for the thriller I Confess.
This piqued her interest. “Was that the one where Montgomery Clift played the Catholic priest?” she asked.
I told her that was indeed the picture. Karl Malden, who co-starred in the film, had told me great stories about how much he loved shooting in Quebec City. At the time it was so remote and unused as a film location that it had an exotic freshness about it. Jolie called over an assistant and asked her to run out and find her a DVD of I Confess. She then told me that if we saw each other on the set again we could discuss the Hitchcock movie. I thought that was a great idea but never did get the opportunity.
There is another hotel in Quebec City that also has a great history, even though it is relatively