I am the United Kingdom of Michael Caine
Sir Michael Caine is in reflective mood. He’s in top form on this day, which is to say relaxed and loquacious. This week he celebrates his 80th birthday, and he seems rather amused, if not a trifle bemused, by all the fanfare.
Last week he was awarded the Freedom of the City of London. And the Museum of London has just opened an exhibition to celebrate his glittering career. Next month, at the luxurious MGM Grand in Las Vegas, there will be a stunning gala featuring masses of star personalities to mark his and Quincy Jones’s 80th birthdays. Long time friends, they share the same birthday.
There can’t be many men his age who can honestly claim that life is downright exciting for them. Michael Caine can. And he does.
‘To me, growing old is great,’ he drawls in that unmistakable voice, peppered with occasional American consonants. ‘It’s the very best thing – considering the alternative!’
One might expect a certain complacency to have set in by now. He’s had it all – the career, the restaurants, the country manor, the idyllic marriage. And he’s worked tirelessly to get it. But complacency isn’t for him.
‘I think life has got to develop as you get older,’ he asserts, ‘and I don’t want to be wandering along doing the same old thing. I want more out of life.’
Forging new territory is something that men tend to do earlier in life rather than later. But then Caine has never been what you would call a conformist. And so he goes after it. And gets it all. From his passions – writing, gardening, cooking – to his charity work and his production company. Caine, like the batteries, just keeps going and going.
No wonder he seems ebullient as he leans back and contemplates his lot. Sometimes wryly, other times with outrageous humour. But never with nonchalance. ‘I’ve always got to have one impossible dream on the back burner,’ he grins ruefully. ‘The one I’ve had for a long time is to write a screenplay from the novel I’ve written. And direct it, and star in it. It’s an impossible dream. But if you think of my life, there are so many impossible dreams that have come true for me that no dream is ever impossible any more as far as I’m concerned.’
In January, he celebrated his 40th wedding anniversary with Shakira, the woman who changed the cocky playboy into a devoted husband, and he’s still besotted with her. A former Miss Guyana, who came third in a Miss World contest, she and Caine met when he saw her in a coffee commercial and begged an agent friend to put him in touch. He was instantly smitten. That was 1972. They’ve been inseparable ever since.
His enthusiasm is infectious. But it’s his confidence that jumps out at you. He wears it like a reliable deodorant that never stops working. His belief that anything is possible is his birthright. He has always refused to recognise parameters, whether real or imagined, established by the English class system. And in breaking beyond them and inspiring others to do likewise, he has become a role model, especially to the working classes.
‘People always told me “you can’t be an actor, you don’t talk posh”,’ he recalls. ‘And I said, “I’ll show you how to be an actor without talking posh”. And I did it.’
He embraces his workingclass roots, yet enjoys all the accoutrements historically afforded only to the upper class. And with his phenomenal success, he has narrowed the span and bridged the gap between them. It is only in recent years that he’s been accorded in Britain the stature he has enjoyed in America for decades: that of the consummate professional and film scholar.
One of Britain’s most versatile actors, his pendulum has swung in every direction – from comedy to drama, from stage to screen. He’s worked in every genre imaginable, from spy thrillers to romance movies, and is proud that 50 years after he became a star, his name is still above the title today.
His self-confidence can be almost overpowering at times and is often construed as arrogance. At times, he’s been considered pompous and outspoken: ‘I’m learning to tone it down’. But it’s the conviction of his knowledge of self and craft that really grabs you: ‘I’m always supremely confident as a movie actor and my own view of myself is that I’m a highly skilled movie actor.’
He makes his work seem so easy that one is lured into believing he somehow makes it just happen. But he’s learned hard and learned well. The ultimate craftsman, when you listen to him talk about acting and the film profession, it’s a surprise that he’s not also a director – ‘but I’m too lazy; directing takes up a whole year,’ he says.
Henry Fonda, his co-star in the ill-fated The Swarm, once told me, ‘He’s one of the most astute actors I’ve ever known, with an intimate awareness of the film profession.’ Not for nothing has Caine earned the deep respect of his peers. He has lectured about film acting and written about it. And his assiduous attention to each role, using many of the tools drawn on by American ‘method’ actors led him a few years ago to give a televised address at New York’s famed Actors Studio – a distinguished rarity for a British actor. Caine has never compared himself to other actors – ‘I’m the United Kingdom of Michael Caine,’ he tells me. An island unto himself.
Maybe what irks his critics is that he gets so much pleasure out of whatever he does. Life is supposed to be more of a struggle. Nobody deserves that much enjoyment out of life. But Caine has had his struggle and paid his dues. Several years in repertory companies gave him a solid foundation (he understudied and later replaced Peter O’Toole in a London stage production) before the turning point arrived, at the age of 30, as the aristocratic officer in Zulu. After that, starring roles in The Ipcress File and Alfie cemented his ranking as a movie star.
He grew up in the East End, the son of a Billingsgate fish porter father and charlady mother. Evacuated during the war, he spent a brief period with a family who exercised ‘a mild form of child abuse’, by locking him in a cupboard. His mother found out after a fortnight and took him away, ‘but it was long enough to leave a mark, which formed part of my psyche for the rest of my life.
‘I have never trusted an adult until a great deal of investigation has gone into them,’ he says softly. ‘I trust everyone on the surface, but directly anything starts to go deeper in the relationship, I’m very mistrusting. Even now. Because of what happened to me as a child. Maybe that’s why I am a controlling person. I usually control the environment I’m in, but my control is very quiet and subtle.’
During the 1980s, Caine, the quintessential Englishman, left Britain and moved to America. It was his protest at having to pay Britain’s exorbitant taxes of 82 per cent. But even with his shift to Hollywood, his home was still an Englishman’s castle. He lived the luxury lifestyle and relaxed in his indoor Jacuzzi, cigar in mouth. But he flew the Union Flag at the top of his Beverly Hills estate. After eight years, he moved back to Britain, ‘homesick as bloody hell’.
Caine can usually be counted upon to be hugely informative – ‘I know a lot of stuff but my close friend, Leslie (lyricist Leslie Bricusse), knows everything, and before Google, the two of us were sort of human Googles!’. He is also vastly amusing, unless he’s in a surly mood, which is fairly rare these days.
He has what he calls ‘a terrifying temper’ but time and Shakira have mellowed that and it only pops out ‘every three years or so’. Street smart and largely self taught (he left grammar school when he was 16), he disperses his astute wisdom with a spontaneous wit.
He’s in great shape, much of it the legacy from his Hollywood years when he learned how to eat healthily. He’s discarded bangers and mash in favour of healthier foods, and the vegetables he grows in the garden of his 200-year-old Surrey home.
But he’s still recovering from an acute state of jetlag. Over the last three months, he’d flown to Los Angeles, then to New York and Miami, and home to Britain. He loves travelling but hates flying.
That brings to mind his close friend, Roger Moore, who is a Unicef Goodwill Ambassador. ‘He does the two things I hate most,’ laughs Caine. ‘I love children but I could never do what Roger’s doing. My idea of hell is long airplane flights. My other idea of hell is giving speeches to strangers. He does both all the time. Believe me, he’s earned his knighthood!
‘My charity is the NSPCC, which I’ve always done. I’m one of the patrons at the NSPCC, which harks back to when I was younger. So my charity goes towards children. If I were ever to do another charity, I would do it for the homeless. That’s the other thing that bugs me, the homeless. But for me, it’s mainly the children. I care very much about them.’
He admits he’s easily moved. ‘I can seem quite cold and I can hold it in but it stores itself; it works later. I’m very easily moved. I’m not repressed at all.’
Interestingly, in most of his roles, even the vicious Jack Carter in Get Carter, there’s always a touch of humour lurking behind the eyes.
‘I love comedy,’ he enthuses. ‘I love to make people laugh.’ Michael Caine looks pensive for a moment. ‘If I hadn’t been an actor, or an architect, which I really wanted to be, I’d have been a stand-up comic.’
Copyright Barbra Paskin
Gets work in repertory in 1953. Changes his name from Maurice Joseph Micklewhite to Michael Caine in 1954. Adopts the name Caine from the film The Caine Mutiny (1954).
Marries Patricia Haines in 1955. They have one daughter, Dominique, but divorce in 1958.
First big career break – his role in the film Zulu (1964) – comes after his performance in the play Next Time I’ll Sing To You (1963).
Rave reviews for his performances in classic films The Ipcress File, Alfie, The Italian Job, Get Carter and many more.
Marries Shakira Baksh on 8 January 1973. He has another daughter (Natasha).
Appointed CBE in 1992 and knighted in the 2000 New Year Honours. His title is Sir Maurice Micklewhite but his professional name is Sir Michael Caine.
Provides voice samples for the band Madness in 1984 for their single Michael Caine, as his daughter was a fan of theirs.
Plays Bruce Wayne’s butler, Alfred, in Batman film The Dark Knight Rises.
He has two Oscars, a Bafta and a Best Actor Golden Globe. At the Variety Club Awards in 2008, he won Outstanding Contribution to Showbusiness award.
Last week he was awarded the Freedom of the City of London. And the Museum of London has just opened an exhibition to celebrate his glittering career. Next month, at the luxurious MGM Grand in Las Vegas, there will be a stunning gala featuring masses of star personalities to mark his and Quincy Jones’s 80th birthdays. Long time friends, they share the same birthday.
There can’t be many men his age who can honestly claim that life is downright exciting for them. Michael Caine can. And he does.
‘To me, growing old is great,’ he drawls in that unmistakable voice, peppered with occasional American consonants. ‘It’s the very best thing – considering the alternative!’
One might expect a certain complacency to have set in by now. He’s had it all – the career, the restaurants, the country manor, the idyllic marriage. And he’s worked tirelessly to get it. But complacency isn’t for him.
‘I think life has got to develop as you get older,’ he asserts, ‘and I don’t want to be wandering along doing the same old thing. I want more out of life.’
Forging new territory is something that men tend to do earlier in life rather than later. But then Caine has never been what you would call a conformist. And so he goes after it. And gets it all. From his passions – writing, gardening, cooking – to his charity work and his production company. Caine, like the batteries, just keeps going and going.
No wonder he seems ebullient as he leans back and contemplates his lot. Sometimes wryly, other times with outrageous humour. But never with nonchalance. ‘I’ve always got to have one impossible dream on the back burner,’ he grins ruefully. ‘The one I’ve had for a long time is to write a screenplay from the novel I’ve written. And direct it, and star in it. It’s an impossible dream. But if you think of my life, there are so many impossible dreams that have come true for me that no dream is ever impossible any more as far as I’m concerned.’
In January, he celebrated his 40th wedding anniversary with Shakira, the woman who changed the cocky playboy into a devoted husband, and he’s still besotted with her. A former Miss Guyana, who came third in a Miss World contest, she and Caine met when he saw her in a coffee commercial and begged an agent friend to put him in touch. He was instantly smitten. That was 1972. They’ve been inseparable ever since.
His enthusiasm is infectious. But it’s his confidence that jumps out at you. He wears it like a reliable deodorant that never stops working. His belief that anything is possible is his birthright. He has always refused to recognise parameters, whether real or imagined, established by the English class system. And in breaking beyond them and inspiring others to do likewise, he has become a role model, especially to the working classes.
‘People always told me “you can’t be an actor, you don’t talk posh”,’ he recalls. ‘And I said, “I’ll show you how to be an actor without talking posh”. And I did it.’
He embraces his workingclass roots, yet enjoys all the accoutrements historically afforded only to the upper class. And with his phenomenal success, he has narrowed the span and bridged the gap between them. It is only in recent years that he’s been accorded in Britain the stature he has enjoyed in America for decades: that of the consummate professional and film scholar.
One of Britain’s most versatile actors, his pendulum has swung in every direction – from comedy to drama, from stage to screen. He’s worked in every genre imaginable, from spy thrillers to romance movies, and is proud that 50 years after he became a star, his name is still above the title today.
His self-confidence can be almost overpowering at times and is often construed as arrogance. At times, he’s been considered pompous and outspoken: ‘I’m learning to tone it down’. But it’s the conviction of his knowledge of self and craft that really grabs you: ‘I’m always supremely confident as a movie actor and my own view of myself is that I’m a highly skilled movie actor.’
He makes his work seem so easy that one is lured into believing he somehow makes it just happen. But he’s learned hard and learned well. The ultimate craftsman, when you listen to him talk about acting and the film profession, it’s a surprise that he’s not also a director – ‘but I’m too lazy; directing takes up a whole year,’ he says.
Henry Fonda, his co-star in the ill-fated The Swarm, once told me, ‘He’s one of the most astute actors I’ve ever known, with an intimate awareness of the film profession.’ Not for nothing has Caine earned the deep respect of his peers. He has lectured about film acting and written about it. And his assiduous attention to each role, using many of the tools drawn on by American ‘method’ actors led him a few years ago to give a televised address at New York’s famed Actors Studio – a distinguished rarity for a British actor. Caine has never compared himself to other actors – ‘I’m the United Kingdom of Michael Caine,’ he tells me. An island unto himself.
Maybe what irks his critics is that he gets so much pleasure out of whatever he does. Life is supposed to be more of a struggle. Nobody deserves that much enjoyment out of life. But Caine has had his struggle and paid his dues. Several years in repertory companies gave him a solid foundation (he understudied and later replaced Peter O’Toole in a London stage production) before the turning point arrived, at the age of 30, as the aristocratic officer in Zulu. After that, starring roles in The Ipcress File and Alfie cemented his ranking as a movie star.
He grew up in the East End, the son of a Billingsgate fish porter father and charlady mother. Evacuated during the war, he spent a brief period with a family who exercised ‘a mild form of child abuse’, by locking him in a cupboard. His mother found out after a fortnight and took him away, ‘but it was long enough to leave a mark, which formed part of my psyche for the rest of my life.
‘I have never trusted an adult until a great deal of investigation has gone into them,’ he says softly. ‘I trust everyone on the surface, but directly anything starts to go deeper in the relationship, I’m very mistrusting. Even now. Because of what happened to me as a child. Maybe that’s why I am a controlling person. I usually control the environment I’m in, but my control is very quiet and subtle.’
During the 1980s, Caine, the quintessential Englishman, left Britain and moved to America. It was his protest at having to pay Britain’s exorbitant taxes of 82 per cent. But even with his shift to Hollywood, his home was still an Englishman’s castle. He lived the luxury lifestyle and relaxed in his indoor Jacuzzi, cigar in mouth. But he flew the Union Flag at the top of his Beverly Hills estate. After eight years, he moved back to Britain, ‘homesick as bloody hell’.
Caine can usually be counted upon to be hugely informative – ‘I know a lot of stuff but my close friend, Leslie (lyricist Leslie Bricusse), knows everything, and before Google, the two of us were sort of human Googles!’. He is also vastly amusing, unless he’s in a surly mood, which is fairly rare these days.
He has what he calls ‘a terrifying temper’ but time and Shakira have mellowed that and it only pops out ‘every three years or so’. Street smart and largely self taught (he left grammar school when he was 16), he disperses his astute wisdom with a spontaneous wit.
He’s in great shape, much of it the legacy from his Hollywood years when he learned how to eat healthily. He’s discarded bangers and mash in favour of healthier foods, and the vegetables he grows in the garden of his 200-year-old Surrey home.
But he’s still recovering from an acute state of jetlag. Over the last three months, he’d flown to Los Angeles, then to New York and Miami, and home to Britain. He loves travelling but hates flying.
That brings to mind his close friend, Roger Moore, who is a Unicef Goodwill Ambassador. ‘He does the two things I hate most,’ laughs Caine. ‘I love children but I could never do what Roger’s doing. My idea of hell is long airplane flights. My other idea of hell is giving speeches to strangers. He does both all the time. Believe me, he’s earned his knighthood!
‘My charity is the NSPCC, which I’ve always done. I’m one of the patrons at the NSPCC, which harks back to when I was younger. So my charity goes towards children. If I were ever to do another charity, I would do it for the homeless. That’s the other thing that bugs me, the homeless. But for me, it’s mainly the children. I care very much about them.’
He admits he’s easily moved. ‘I can seem quite cold and I can hold it in but it stores itself; it works later. I’m very easily moved. I’m not repressed at all.’
Interestingly, in most of his roles, even the vicious Jack Carter in Get Carter, there’s always a touch of humour lurking behind the eyes.
‘I love comedy,’ he enthuses. ‘I love to make people laugh.’ Michael Caine looks pensive for a moment. ‘If I hadn’t been an actor, or an architect, which I really wanted to be, I’d have been a stand-up comic.’
Copyright Barbra Paskin
Sir Michael… the exhibition
‘I’m an icon,’ he once said. ‘It says so in the paper.’ So it is, perhaps, no surprise that Michael Caine is now being celebrated in a new exhibition at the Museum of London. The free exhibition – called, appropriately, Michael Caine – features portraits by photographers including Terry O’Neill and David Bailey, alongside film and audio clips. Until 14 July at Museum of London: 020-7001 9844, www.museumoflondon.org.ukSIR MICHAEL CAINE: in 60 seconds
Born: Rotherhithe, 14 March 1933. Wins scholarship to Hackney Downs Grocers’ School, then goes to Wilson’s Grammar School, Camberwell. Called up for National Service in 1951.Gets work in repertory in 1953. Changes his name from Maurice Joseph Micklewhite to Michael Caine in 1954. Adopts the name Caine from the film The Caine Mutiny (1954).
Marries Patricia Haines in 1955. They have one daughter, Dominique, but divorce in 1958.
First big career break – his role in the film Zulu (1964) – comes after his performance in the play Next Time I’ll Sing To You (1963).
Rave reviews for his performances in classic films The Ipcress File, Alfie, The Italian Job, Get Carter and many more.
Marries Shakira Baksh on 8 January 1973. He has another daughter (Natasha).
Appointed CBE in 1992 and knighted in the 2000 New Year Honours. His title is Sir Maurice Micklewhite but his professional name is Sir Michael Caine.
Provides voice samples for the band Madness in 1984 for their single Michael Caine, as his daughter was a fan of theirs.
Plays Bruce Wayne’s butler, Alfred, in Batman film The Dark Knight Rises.
He has two Oscars, a Bafta and a Best Actor Golden Globe. At the Variety Club Awards in 2008, he won Outstanding Contribution to Showbusiness award.