I never thought I’d claim I was quoted ‘out of context’ — until I went to Cannes
‘Memo to writers and others,’ wrote Kingsley Amis. ‘Never make a joke against yourself that some little bastard can turn into a piece of shit and send your way.’ I should have borne this in mind when I was in Cannes last week to promote How To Lose Friends & Alienate People, the forthcoming film of my book. I was at a press conference on the Croisette when a journalist asked how I felt about being played by Simon Pegg. For those of you who don’t know, Simon is a gifted comic actor whose last two films — Hot Fuzz and Run Fat Boy Run — have done so well he is now considered the No. 1 box office star in the UK.
‘To tell the truth, I was a bit disappointed,’ I drawled. ‘I wanted Brad Pitt to play me, but for some reason the producer thought he wouldn’t be right.’ I was being ironic, obviously. Simon was sitting beside me and he laughed, as did the assembled hacks. However, just to make things crystal clear, I told the audience I was joking and went on to sing Simon’s praises. He has always been my first choice, far more suitable than any of the alternatives, such as Hugh Grant. There is something incredibly winsome about him, a huge asset when it comes to playing someone as widely disliked as me. Indeed, whenever Bob Weide, the director, is asked how on earth he managed to turn me into a sympathetic character, he always says, ‘Two words: Simon Pegg.’ I didn’t realise the enormity of my error until I was sitting in a taxi on my way home from the airport. I got a call from a journalist on the Independent who said she was writing a piece for the following day’s paper on the ‘feud’ between Simon and me.
‘What feud?’ ‘It’s all over today’s papers,’ she said. ‘Apparently, you gave a press conference in Cannes in which you said you were ‘bitterly disappointed’ that Simon is playing you. He’s responded by calling you a “self-promoter”.’ ‘But that was a joke. I was being ironic.’ ‘So you’re not denying that you actually said it?’ ‘Well, no, but... ’ ‘Care to respond to Simon’s description of you?’ ‘No, I wouldn’t. It’s all bollocks.’ ‘So there is no feud? You’re actually the best of friends, is that it?’ I was about to say ‘yes’ when I suddenly thought, ‘What if her next phone call is to Simon and he says he can’t stand me? Then I’ll look like a right prat.’ ‘Look, I’ll email you a response, OK? I want to choose my words carefully.’ After thinking about it for a bit, I emailed he following: ‘The truth is, I absolutely Simon and love hanging out with him, m a bit embarrassed to say that in case my feelings aren’t reciprocated.’ I thought that would put an end to it, but the following day a story duly appeared that said I had indeed fallen out with him. By way of proof, it quoted me saying that I ‘adore’ him but ‘my feelings aren’t reciprocated’.
In the past, I have always scoffed at people who try and cover up some foot-in-mouth incident by claiming they’ve been ‘misquoted’ or their words were ‘taken out of context’, but now I see their point. What I said at the press conference was particularly naive because I was being doubly ironic. I was trying to be selfdeprecating by pretending to have a much higher opinion of myself than I actually do. But the assembled hacks decided it would be more fun to take my comments at face value and portray me as a pompous twit who is ‘disappointed’ that he is merely being played by the biggest movie star in the UK and not Brad Pitt. There is no coming back from that.
At the end of the press conference my colleagues were uncharacteristically nice. One of them said it was fantastic that someone who had spent a lifetime being ejected from A-list parties was now in Cannes promoting a film. This was met with a chorus of approval and I received several pats on the back. ‘Yeah, well done mate,’ said one particularly cynical old hack. Afterwards, one of the producers of the film said, ‘You could be in for some good publicity at last. I think your colleagues are really going to get behind you on this.’ I thought so, too — for about 24 hours. What an idiot I am.
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