To the End of the World: Travels with Oscar Wilde (3*)

 

Life in New York taught me early on that few things are duller than moviemaking--I watched crews filming Hair, Cruising & The Eyes of Laura Mars--and Rupert Everett does nothing in his third volume of memoirs, which focuses on directing his Oscar Wilde biopic, to change my mind although he continues to write memorably.

My heart always lurches flying over Manhattan.  A bubble of anxiety bursts in my stomach every time the city appears like a bed of nails over the horizon.  So much danger in those deep gully of glass, so much delusion in the disco ball.

Watch The Happy Prince instead.  His Oscar is tragic and terrific.