- by Simon Guirao
The Hollywood bad boy has taken a hit of late. Shameful crimes of the past are rightly being called out, and the truly evil who have tarnished the title of “rogue” have been banished as justice has wielded its mighty hammer. And not before time. These bastards gave roguery a bad name. It’s time to reclaim it.
We should probably begin again with a clear definition. In this context, we would best describe it as bad behaviour, but charming in its nature, or perhaps foolish in the extreme, but not misanthropic in any way. The kind of shenanigans that generates an eyeroll and a wry chuckle, more than making you gag and your skin crawl. So, you’ll find no odiousness here. This is the kind of bad behaviour to be celebrated. The kind you might dream about emulating, if the real-world consequences could be diminished by access to a good publicist. With all that in mind, we present to you a gallery of the finest rogues Hollywood has had to offer over the years. Enjoy. And don’t (or maybe do) try this at home.
Errol Flynn
Errol’s expert swordsmanship wasn’t confined to his swaggering film roles. Such was the magnitude of his womanising, a phrase was coined to describe his prowess – In Like Flynn. Boozing, women, drugs – he devoured the lot. He was the epitome of a rock and roll legend, a good 20 years before that sobriquet even existed.
David Niven
The quintessential officer and gentleman, a raconteur of the highest calibre (as evidenced by his memoirs, chiefly The Moon’s a Balloon) and former flatmate of old Errol. David abandoned his Hollywood career to reenlist in the Army at the onset of WW2 and subsequently took part in the Normandy landings, helping kick Nazi arse all the way back to Germany. Upon his return to La La Land, he settled right back into his former career, bagging an Oscar and becoming a founder member of the Rat Pack with Humphrey Bogart and chums. And he apparently nobbed Princess Margret too. Don’t remember seeing that in The Crown. Charmed, I’m sure.
The Rat Pack
The legend goes that Lauren Bacall, observing her husband Humphrey Bogart and his mates returning from a night out in Vegas, remarked “you look like a goddam rat pack”. The first iteration of this legendary gang of rapscallions included Bogie as leader with Frank Sinatra, Judy Garland, David Niven, Spencer Tracy and Cary Grant filling out the ranks, before evolving to include Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Junior, Peter Lawford and Joey Bishop. They were smooth, they were suave, they could act and sing and dance and do it all with a glass in their hand and a bottle down their throats. They did it their way. An example to us all.
Peter O’Toole
Another super-souse of the sixties, Peter once snipped the end of his finger off in boating mishap. After dipping it in brandy, he popped it back on and covered it in a bandage. It was only when he took it off a few weeks later he realised he’d stuck it on backwards, “probably because of the brandy, which I drank.” Other legendary feats include writing a cheque to buy a pub that refused him service after last orders, going out on the piss in Paris and waking up in Corsica, and trying to settle a restaurant tab with a self-portrait. Class.
Richard Harris
A drinking buddy of O’Toole’s (along with Oliver Reed and Richar Burton), Richard Harris knew his way around a potion or two long before his tenure at Hogwarts. It was said he got through two bottles of vodka a day at his peak, and he once got on a night train to Leeds from kings cross because it was the only place still serving drinks. He also once crashed into a bridge after a boozy lunch, taking it clean off its supports, telling the police he was “just delivering this bridge to Limerick”. Of his adventures, he remarked: “I adored getting drunk and reading in the papers about what I’d done the night before.” Ten points for Gryffindor.
Oliver Reed
Oh Ollie, Ollie, Ollie. What a guy. Not only was he a thespian of unparallelled skill, his roguery is the stuff of legend. Be it wrestling multiple sailors, downing 106 pints prior to his wedding, puking on Steve McQueen or choosing a blow-up sex doll as his luxury item on Desert Island Discs, his voracious appetite for hellraising was inspiring. He often treated us to his scallywaggery in front of the television cameras, appearing on multiple talkshows while being three sheets to the wind, with special mention to his spat with Shelly Winters on the Tonight Show, his infamous appearance on Channel 4’s chin-scratching After Dark, and the time the Word plied him with booze and secretly filmed him prior to a barnstorming performance of Wild Thing with Ned’s Atomic Dustbin.
Harrison Ford
In a wonderful instance of life imitating his art, allegedly Harrison Ford was the weed guy for the Doors and Michelle Phillips of the Mamas and The Papas, who famously said upon seeing him up on screen in Star Wars, “Hey, that’s my weed dealer!” So that’s why Jabba was so pissed off about that lost shipment.
Jack Nicholson
A man who oozes charisma from every pore, prolific womaniser Nicholson’s booze and drug fuelled antics make others on this list pale in comparison. From smoking reefers courtside at Laker’s games, to creative use of a golf club during a road rage incident and trashing hotel rooms, he set a standard for raising hell that is rarely topped.
Mickey Rourke
Always up for a scrap, Mickey Rourke was so dedicated to his brawling hobby he almost packed in the acting game to become a professional pugilist. When he wasn’t getting punchy, the gun-toting, motorcycle-riding (even indoors) could be found imbibing and imbuing prodigious amounts of booze and drugs. His shenanigans drove him away from Hollywood until he made his triumphant comeback in The Wrestler, proving that he was as good an actor as he was a caner. And he had a pet monkey. Legend.
Don Simpson
In retrospect, the man who brought us films like Top Gun, Beverly Hills Cop and Days Of Thunder was quite obviously gakked off his gourd. With his insatiable appetite for coke and hookers (allegedly spending up to 60k a month on the former), Don Simpson was the king of high concept cinema in the 1980s and 1990s. He trashed studio offices when he didn’t get his own way, became addicted to plastic surgery and was at one point so out of control, studio bosses hired babysitters for him so that he wouldn’t go too far and kill himself on one of his binges. His premature death in 1996 was a loss to the world of explosive cinema, epitomising the old adage that the light that burns twice as bright burns half as long.
Jean-Claude Van Damme
The Muscles from Brussels once offered out a 400-pound bouncer when intoxicated once night and ended up having his arse handed to him. He apparently stuck up to ten grams of yayo up his nose in his 90s heyday (didn’t we all?), labelled himself God and was sacked from playing the Predator for being too hard to deal with. He once offered to fight arch-moron Steven Seagal for real, a dust up I would sell one of my kidneys to see.
Matthew McConaughey
Whether it was shooting movies drunk and stoned, albeit with perfect delivery, or drunkenly wrestling with wild animals – a ram in this instance – Matthew McConaughey is chest-thumpingly good at being a naughty boy. But his crowning glory would have to be getting arrested for being off his tits, playing the bongos too loud while stark bollock naked. The royal flush of bad behaviour. I’ll leave the final words on that incident to Matthew himself: “What’s wrong with beating on your drums in your birthday suit? I have no regrets.”
Platinum Rogues Oscar special
David Niven’s Streaker
A winner in 1958 – and special mention for saying ‘loaded’ in his acceptance speech (with lucky charms, not booze, lamentably) – Niven’s next finest Oscar moment came at 46th Academy Awards in 1974. As he was about to present the Best Picture Oscar with Elizabeth Taylor, he was rudely interrupted by streaker Robert Opel, who dashed across the stage whilst flicking him a peace sign. Without missing a beat, the debonaire David quipped: “Isn't it fascinating to think that probably the only laugh that man will ever get in his life is by stripping off and showing his shortcomings?” Touche.
South Park
Nominated in the Best Original Song category for Blame Canada (although it was probably really for Uncle Fucker), South Park creators Matt Stone and Trey Parker showed up to the 72nd Academy Awards tripping their tits off on acid. And if that wasn’t enough, they were also sporting some lovely frocks, previous worn by Jennifer Lopez and Gwyneth Paltrow. They lost out to Phil Collins for some ditty from Tarzan, but the moment they stepped onto the carpet with their minds on another planet and dressed like that, they were already winners in our book.
Bjork
Always good value for money, Icelandic pop pixie Bjork played a blinder at the 73rd Academy Awards back in 2001. Up for the Best Original Song Oscar, the squeaky-voiced fax-machine impressionist sauntered up the red carpet in a delightful swan dress, leaving a trail of eggs on the ground behind her. Superb. She should have won just for that.
Hillary Swank
In 2000 Hillary scooped the best actress gong for her breathtaking and heartbreaking performance in Boys Don’t Cry. While giving her acceptance speech though, she was kind enough to thank everyone and their mum but forgot one important person. Her husband Chad Lowe. Bet she slept on the sofa that night. Although she did make it up to him by thanking him first when she collected another Oscar for Million Dollar Baby in 2005. But the damage had been done. They split in 2007, with Chad last seen taking a baseball bat to a trashcan in Sesame Street while singing Simple Mind’s “(Don’t You) Forget About Me.” Maybe.
Price Waterhouse Coopers
With behaviour that could be described as more incompetent than debauched, the 89th Academy Awards treated us to a cock up of gargantuan proportions. It was time for the Best Picture Oscar, and on sauntered Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway to present the gong. Opening the envelope, they announced La La Land as the best picture. The cast and crew strutted up to the stage, overjoyed that their singalong love-letter to Tinseltown had scooped the main prize. Except it hadn’t. Moonlight had. After a few moments of celebration, it became apparent that accountancy firm PWC, in charge of handling the envelopes, had handed Faye the wrong one. The panic and confusion offered up some peak schadenfreude as winners became losers, and vice versa. You had to feel for them, Moonlight was robbed of an explosive moment of ecstasy, their triumph being relegated to an unsatisfying after thought, and La La Land had their balloon well and truly popped. So well done, PWC. You had one job….
Will Smith
I know the Americans have this habit of “roasting” people – or bullying, as normal people call it – but to ridicule Jada Pinkett Smith in front of her peers for a medical condition that robbed her of her hair is beyond crass, and frankly not funny. So, I would class Will Smith bitch-slapping Chris Rock as honourable rather than nefarious. But still, good for him, and it made for great television. Welcome to Earth, Pookie. Wanna buy a turkey?