The Camera in Love
By A. A. GILL
Published: October 16, 2005
From an industry whose apogee is an acceptance speech of sentimental blather, there is an old, fondly persistent cliché that says the camera has favorites. It loves certain faces, women's faces, like a leering Lothario, an Arriflex Alfie. There is a testosterone ghost in the machine.
The thing I was most often told about Keira Knightley was that the camera worshiped her, loved her to distraction. It moped inside when it wasn't filled with her, but its clockwork heart went tic-a-tic-a-tic when it had Knightley in its gate. It's nonsense, of course. A camera doesn't love your face any more than a bicycle seat loves your bottom or the washing machine despises your underwear. The truth is more obvious and prosaic: it's cameramen who like women's faces; it's directors who are wide-eyed for Keira Knightley.
In "Pride and Prejudice," the latest movie version of the Jane Austen classic, out next month, the camera follows her around like a besotted puppy. It flings itself out of windows and over furniture and through walls just to be close to her. When she's not there, it frantically rushes around whimpering, sliding off the rest of the cast in anticipation, and when it finally gets her on the sofa or backs her into a corner, it just licks her all over, in an ecstasy of devotion.
I am late for our lunch. When I get to Le Caprice in St. James's in London, the maître d' gives me a disapproving look and whispers that she has already been there for two whole minutes. They've lowered the blinds behind her. Outside the paparazzi are beginning to gather like Hitchcock crows.
I apologize. Knightley says it couldn't matter less. And then I take a proper look at her, and it comes as a bit of a shock - she is radiantly beautiful. I'd been girded for pretty, young, handsome, sexy, attractive, nubile, lithesome, toothsome even - and the face has all that - but all of it is concocted to a recipe that is really, rarely singularly beautiful. And it's sort of unexpected.
Are you eating?
"I'm starving."
One course or two?
"Three" - gazpacho and risotto, then Eton mess (meringue, strawberries and sugar).
She already has the practiced and teasing trick of deflecting and pre-empting inquiry by asking me questions.
"Where have you been? Oh, to your tailor - how wonderful. I'd love to have things made. What's it like?"
Reluctantly I drag the conversation back to her. Do you mind talking about being beautiful?
"Oh, no, it's sort of why I'm here."
It's just that a lot of actors are touchy about their good looks. They think it trivializes their massive talents.
"It's an awful lot of what this business is about, especially if you're a girl. And it can make you very insecure when so much concentration and expectation is staring you in the face. I can look into a mirror and tear my looks to bits. I know there are dozens of things wrong with me."
Like what, for instance?
"Well, when I smile at certain angles, I can look like I've got a broken nose like a boxer."
Oh, puh-leeze. Cut! Knightley's doing her Mike Tyson impression. And she laughs, just to show me.
As a general rule of grin, the beautiful don't have beautiful smiles. Nice smiles are God's consolation for plain faces, except of course that Knightley has a very lovely, utterly unpugilistic, melting smile that makes her look very young. She's just 20, but she has been acting professionally since she was 9. However, it was the appearance of her undulating abs in "Bend It Like Beckham" that kicked off her career.
Her role as Lizzy in "Pride and Predjudice" is an infinitely more assured, subtle performance. Believable, thoughtful, poignant and empathetic. It lays to rest that other Hollywood shibboleth: if the camera loves you, then the script is probably not talking to you. Acting has been a cram course for Knightley, all of it done, unforgivingly, in close-up, 20 feet by 10 feet, in public.
"I know to do less now and that there are things you can do on-screen that would look weird in real life, but what I like best about acting and film is working with directors. I like being inside their heads. Did you like 'Pride and Prejudice'?"
Yes and no. I liked her in it, but it's a loathsome story. In my mind, a 15-year-old girl is abducted and raped by a oldier, and her family pays him to marry her. It's all about selling your useless female children.
"Oh, I suppose so. But isn't that the way it was?"
Perhaps, but Austen wrote it as satire; the movies are always just romance.
"But don't you think that Darcy is a wonderful character?"
He's a snotty prig who for no discernible reason becomes an embarrassing drip. She gives me the 100-watt raging-bull smile.
"It's a girl thing - we think he's wonderful, hard, then soft."
Do you really fall for that stuff?
"Of course, every time."
Knightley asked her mother if she could have an agent when she was 3. She read scripts instead of books as a way of overcoming her dyslexia. Both her parents work in the theater, and she has the movie star's touching reverence for stage acting. "That's what I would really like to do."
There are quite a lot of things that Knightley has missed out on since being married off to a camera so young. She's not had a proper holiday.
"I never got that gap year that all my friends had. I'd really like to travel."
Where?
"I don't know. Around Europe with a rucksack."
She has her own London apartment, which she loves but rarely has time to stay in. After shooting "Pride and Prejudice," there was Tony Scott's "Domino," and now she's filming the second and third parts of "Pirates of the Caribbean," or "Pirates of the Penzance," as my editor inadvertently called it.
"Wouldn't it be lovely if it were 'Pirates of the Penzance'?" Knightley says wistfully.
There is no rest for the beautiful. Do you have a lot of friends in the business?
"No, it's not a friendly industry. I know a lot of people, and I like most of them, but not friends. Not really."
We leave the restaurant by different routes, I through the front door, she through the kitchen and down into the basement garage, where a darkened limousine waits to speed Knightley past the flock of photographers. As we stand making our farewells, I notice that the whole room has fallen silent, stopped midmouthful. The Caprice is a tough place to impress. It gets three or four stars a sitting. With the couples, the waiters, the barmen, the coat check, the flower display, the bottles, the tables and the chairs all staring at Knightley with little, soppy, blissed-out smiles, it's like being out with Snow White.
I expect a brace of bluebirds and singing dwarves at any moment.
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Raymond Meier[/size][/font]
[font=Arial, Helvetica, San Serif][size=-1]Gucci Dress with Sequin Embroidery. Tiffany & Company Swing Diamond Necklace with Pavé Diamond Heart Bracelet, and Lace Diamond Brooch (all attached). Fred Leighton 19th-Century Diamond Arrow Brooch. [/size][/font]
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Raymond Meier[/size][/font]
[font=Arial, Helvetica, San Serif][size=-1]Beauty Note: For eyes as expressive as Knightley’s, apply Lancôme’s Artliner Precision Point Eyeliner in Noir, Le Crayon Khôl in Black Ebony and Colour Focus in Darkroom. Finish With L’Extrême Lengthening Mascara in black. Fashion Editor: Tiina Laakkonen. Fashion Associate: Lindha Jacobsson. Fashion Assistant: Anouk Beguery. Hair by Dai Michishita for India New York. Makeup by Fulvia Farolfi. [/size][/font]
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Raymond Meier[/size][/font]
[font=Arial, Helvetica, San Serif][size=-1]Dolce & Gabbana Swarovski Crystal Dress. Giles & Brother Silver Chain with Heart Lock. Cartier Diamond Pendant On Platinum Chain. Fred Leighton 19th-Century Star Earring (On Necklace). [/size][/font]
