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After [MICHAEL CAINE] married a second time and had a baby daughter the book just goes into a litany of the movies he has played in, which is not particularly riveting. A lot of them weren't much, but of course he is an actor and actors have to act. Caine himself, off camera, seems still to be interested only inhimself and what he owns. He became a tax exile. He lives today in Southern California in a three-million-dollar "bungalow" which sounds to me like jail, but it's his house, his life after all. And he says: "I beat the system."
I saw "Zulu" in a flea-bag theater in Chicago in about 1964, not because I had heard of it. I hadn't, but my little boys were going bananas at their grandmother's house and it sounded little boyish, which it was. But I liked it even more than they did, and when gorgeous Michael Caine stood behind his gallant troops yelling "First rank, fire!" and so on, I laughed. It was too absurd. The Zulu chief at the time of actual filming had been hired as an extra along with his tribe, and was invited to view the rushes. He was not amused by the scrambled dead warriors, and left in silence.
Meet Maurice Micklewhite, street-smart Cockney who through guts and talent became rich and famous Michael Caine. On the way up he had a lot of enduring to do: being poor, hating his schoolmates, having to fulfill his National Service obligation which sent him to the Korean War and gave him malaria. He came back to London and struggled. Odd jobs. Down and out in Paris. Playing as "unbilled" in numbers of movies and television shows for 10 lean years. A hungry apprenticeship. Later on people asked him where and how he had been "discovered." That did not please. He knows who he was and where he camefrom. He was bitter sometimes, but the fact is that the cliche "consumed with ambition" applies to him.
Later on, when he was rich and was charged with taking on movies just for the money he said that money had brought him happiness. So he is happy,because he certainly has money.
After the threadbare decade came "Zulu."
At last.
I saw "Zulu" in a flea-bag theater in Chicago in about 1964, not because I had heard of it. I hadn't, but my little boys were going bananas at their grandmother's house and it sounded little boyish, which it was. But I liked it even more than they did, and when gorgeous Michael Caine stood behind his gallant troops yelling "First rank, fire!" and so on, I laughed. It was too absurd. The Zulu chief at the time of actual filming had been hired as an extra along with his tribe, and was invited to view the rushes. He was not amused by the scrambled dead warriors, and left in silence.
But it made Michael.
Next, "The Ipcress File."
Excitement. Torture on screen. Seepings of blood off. Caine was already divorced after a youthful error and had a daughter whom he rarely saw. He did see numbers of girls, roommates, one nighters. William Hall makes it sound like hundreds, flocks of pigeons. One was later to become Bianca Jagger. Some even lasted for a time. When he grew weary of them he had his secretary pack up their clothes and locked them out. Not altogether a charmer, but didn't claim to be.
The only person he really cared about was himself. Caveat.
Then "Alfie." Real money. His own press agent. Hollywood. Heaven. He became Mr. Grub, a determined loner who embarked on a program to appear in anything as long as it paid. He was good at it and it did. He is a modern, intelligent performer, no sufferer. If he suffers you have to bring your own suffering to him. As Little Eva he'd be left alone in the theater, but as the semi-rotter in the stiff upper trenchcoat we believe in him.
And he believes in his own worth. But there is that blubber. No one who didn't laugh at "Zulu" should consider reading "Raising Caine" - and even then - well life isn't always easy and I have to review a book today, not women's luggage.
Caine went from one smash to another, though there were numbers of turkeys - dead ones - along the way. That no longer mattered. He was a star and loved it. He had a chauffered Rolls. He was regarded as a professional. He knew his lines and got himself to the set without tantrums. He had enormous intensity as well as that enormous ambition.
Caine doesn't have many close friends, doesn't admire many people. He is an abrasive man who doesn't take (euphemism for nonsense), and that is something I admire. But. He is certainly not very kindly, yet if he were he would probably be selling bow ties in Selfridges.
After Caine married a second time and had a baby daughter the book just goes into a litany of the movies he has played in, which is not particularly riveting. A lot of them weren't much, but of course he is an actor and actors have to act. Caine himself, off camera, seems still to be interested only inhimself and what he owns. He became a tax exile. He lives today in Southern California in a three-million-dollar "bungalow" which sounds to me like jail, but it's his house, his life after all. And he says: "I beat the system."
Finally I said to myself, do you really have to read all this? Yes, said my mother. You get paid to do it. Others are not. The message is simply that ego is all.
Copyright Boston Globe Newspaper May 2, 1982