Tuesday, December 30, 2025

The Comeback of the Rourke - 2008

Working at nightclubs I met a lot of people. The good, the bad, and in-between. Famous, infamous, and nobodies. Sometimes I had no idea who was who. I tried to stop Mick Jagger from entering Hurrah. A beard hid his face. His bodyguard Tony steered me right. I later refused Meryl Strep entry to the Mudd Club on orders from the owner, Steve Maas. It wasn't hard. I didn't like her in THE FRENCH LIEUTENANT'S WOMAN.

In Paris at Le Nouvelle Eve an old boxer arguing with the cashier about free admission to the dance club. SomEthing said he had been a champion years ago. I asked him why he and his two lady friends It was a cold night and the two women wore puffy should enter without paying, telling him I'd accept any and all explanations. I liked boxers. He responded by insulting the land of my birth.

"Putain Amerlot."

"You got that right, fucking Americans." I glanced back at the two women. The blonde looked familiar. The nightclub owner was standing by the bar. Serge, my friend. Watching.

"Te oncule."

Working the door in France and Germany I had heard 'fuck you' many times in both languages. The boxer's face had been battered by fists. Mine too. Even at fifty he was tougher than me and I respected him, offering him an out in my grammar school French. "All you have do is say you're a friend of Moses or Charlesmagne and I'll let you and your two ladies in for free. I'll even throw in free drinks."

"Putain Amerlot."

I had had enough and told him to leave,

"And take those two old doormats with you."

After the trio's departure Serge approached me.

"Explain to me why you threw out Brigitte Bardot."

"Brigitte Bardot." I loved her in AND GOD CREATED WOMEN. Even more so in CONTEMPT. I dreamed about her as a boy. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, I recognized the film goddess from behind. She was older, less blonde, and wearing a frumpy down coat.

"I had no idea who she was."

"Quais, putain Amerlot."

Serge didn't fire me. Like I said we were friends, however a week later Mickey Rourke showed up at the club with ten friends. Mostly young junkies from the Bains-Douches. We never let them in for free. I made an exception this time. Serge came up to me.

"No Brigitte Bardot, but hello Mssr. Rourke." He never let me forget this error in judgment and it remains a joke between us till this day. Serge laughed all the harder, as the American actor slipped down the ranks from his heyday, although we both agreed on his best line.

"Drinks for my friends." Mickey Rourke called out in Barbet Schroeder's BARFLY.

It seemed to be a line he must have said in real life too. Bad movies, a worse choice for a plastic surgeon. He was banned from Hollywood, except under a mask like for SIN CITY, however Mickey Rourke had resurrected his career by starring in the Golden Lion winner of the Venice Film Festival, Darren Aronofsky's "The Wrestler".

"A guy like me changes hard, I didn't want to change, but I had to change."

Same as the rest of us.

I still loved Brigitte Bardot for CONTEMPT, but less so for her conversion to Fascism. Sad she could have been a saint. And maybe she is for Le National Front. Je sais rien des eux.

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