An entertaining read. What surprised me most about this was how much of a pothead, Louis was in his youth and early adulthood. I enjoyed learning of his past and parents. And how he got his big break to be on TV through Michael Moore’s TV Nation. In fact, they nearly sued Louis for using the format in Weird Weekends. We learnt about Louis marrying his childhood sweetheart, then divorcing her to find his current wife.
What did annoy me about the book was his copious use of French words. Overall though he is a skilled writer. It was a pleasant surprise to learn Louis’s affinity for fame and that he enjoys twitter accounts such as “no context theroux” and “theroux bot”. It’s nice to know that Louis suffers from anxiety and his on screen persona is somewhat based on reality. Even to this day he gets nerves during filming, which show’s he’s human.
Of course, there are several chapters dedicated to Jimmy Savile. Ultimately, Theroux reflects his regret of not being to unmask the true evil side to him. Afterwards, he accepts that it wasn’t possible for him to unmask him. Even if he followed up on leads.
The book shed a light on why My Scientology Movie had those bizarre reenactments. For one Scientology wouldn’t agree to any interviews, two it was the bright idea of Larry Charles, a director they were talking to in the early days.
What slightly diminished my enjoyment of this book was the fact I had to read 300 pages in 10 days, otherwise suffering penalty of a library fine. Though I comfortably met this target in the end.
He was a deep sleeper and needed a lot of pushing and humping. Years later, when I mentioned this fact in an interview, Nick Clegg issued a statement: ‘I have no recollection of Louis Theroux waking me up in the morning.’ I didn’t mind, though it makes me wonder if I was humping him hard enough.
The pessimistic liberalism of Max Weber, the idea that lives in the West are becoming bureaucratized and regulated and imprisoning, that society isn’t progressing but getting worse
This may have been the weirdest part of Sarge’s critique of my performance – his disappointment at the consistency of my vomit.
‘No, not at all. It’s been a permanent source of regret that the one thing I’ve never been involved in is a sex scandal.’
– The immortal words of Neil Hamilton
Greater love hath no man than this: that he should not spray his friend with some kind of combination of piss and poopoo.
I was with my brother in the sauna and the man kept sauntering past and ‘accidentally’ letting his bathrobe fall open and then standing there with his willy out. (In this analogy, in case you are wondering, I am the elderly man and the Scientology movie is the man’s genitals.) But I deferred to Simon’s greater experience and agreed to go, let slip my bathrobe and dangle my willy-movie one more time.
‘What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.’ Uh-huh. OK. Unless it leaves you in a wheelchair, with PTSD and feeling suicidal.