The seven deadly sins of Hollywood (1957)

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THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS OF HOLLYWOOD When I mentioned all this in my column in the Evening Standard Huston was furious. A couple of weeks after my return to London I received an invitation from Huston to come down to Fishguard. I hesitated and said I would let him know my answer. Whilst I was thinking it over, wondering what mischief he had planned for my benefit, the invitation was cancelled — ostensibly because the unit were now running into serious difficulties and there would be no time for the "entertainment" of guests. Considerably later I found out what had really happened. Huston had wanted to bring me down and then place me on "trial" for having misrepresented what had gone on in Ireland. I never found out what my sentence would have been had I been found guilty. Perhaps they would have used me to play the role of Moby Dick, instead of the mechanical radio-controlled whale they had constructed and which was later lost at sea. Or, even worse, he may have made me stay in a room without a private bath. I stood high up in the Guadarrama Sierras on a rock (it might have been hewn by Henry Moore) sipping an iced vermouth and soda and watched Alexander the Great charging into battle. I struck a match on a plaster Grecian god — on Achilles' heel, to be precise — and, as the swords clanged and the cymbals clashed, lit my Spanish cigarette. If this should appear unduly blase of me, let me assure you that I was in no immediate danger. Neither, for that matter, was Alexander the Great. For in this battle the opposing factions had taken the very sensible precautions of having their swords blunted and their spears fitted with rubber heads — and Alexander the Great had a stunt man to " double" for him. During 78