Terence Stamp photographed by Terence Donovan, 1967
Take One: A family of Stamp collectors
Announced only as "The Stranger", Stamp waltzed into the home and lives of Teorema’s (Theorem/1968) wealthy Italian family like a bolt from the blue: in turn he sexed them all up good and proper, irrespective of gender, or even order, then left them reeling and the audience flummoxed. Everyone – on screen and off – was seduced by this perplexing guest. He left us all gagging for more. It was that naughty old Pier Paolo Pasolini’s fault. He dashed off his own personal spectator theory with the zestiest, most carefree and open abandon. Stamp’s stranger, most folk presume, is a Christ figure, a sexy Jesus substitute in the shape of a ‘60s heartthrob. The controversy of the film was aroused by this contentious quirk more than the frank and playful sexuality on display. PPP knew how to push buttons and he detonated a social-religious-cinematic bomb with his casting of Stamp in such a role.
On Stamp duty: Terence in Teorema
Teorema is a remarkable film – and Stamp is remarkable in it. He barely opens his mouth and still manages to bedazzle everyone and anyone in his sight line; he binds them all with the spell of his eyes and his crotch. (Seriously, Teorema must be the only film in which there’s a crotch shot every five minutes that isn’t a porno.) Each family member in turn glares at Stamp’s trouser lump prior to being whipped into a frothy frenzy and succumbing to his silently sexy ways. (He even attentively listens to post-sex confessions.) They are seduced, relinquished of their former burdens and transform in their own ways - they explode from their bourgeois closets. Yup, he bonks the family so much, and is so good at it, that each one forgets who they were: promiscuity, artistic endeavour, feverish catatonia and the immediate rejection of clothing are the by-products of his studly sexings. In fact, he bonks the family maid (Laura Betti) so much that she levitates. Now that’s liberation. As far as strange, Christly, wraith-like enigmas go, Terence Stamp’s not too shabby.
Stamp: sex god and foot rest (those are his own feet)
Take Two: Everyone look busy - Zod's coming!
Could you all please kneel...
For the love of Zod, at least look at what you're reducing to smithereens!
Stamp’s Zod was second-to-none - quite literally. As the head of cinema’s most loved evil alien triptych he led from the front. Indeed, he liked to stand in front of massive, well-placed billboards and frown in close-up as often as possible, before flying headlong into fleeing extras – that’s a sign of real villainous brass. You can keep your small-screen bald teen Lex Luthor and the lazy Kevin Spacey retread. Give me a Godlike Zod - someone who plays it weird with a beard. Terence stamped the role, his role, with a singularly daft yet unmatchable class. Rumour has it that Zod is to be the main baddie in Zack Snyder’s upcoming reboot. I hope that someone clever presses redial and gets Stamp back on board: he's the only actor who can pull off neatly-trimmed facial hair and a jump-suit and still be scary. On top of that he mastered the three vital prerequisites for comic-book villainy: wig work, wire work and superhuman fireworks.
You can all get up now, he's gone.
Take Three: The Lady is a Stamp
“What are you telling me? This is an ABBA turd?”
Transvision Stamp: three lady lizards on tour are thee
When I first watched Priscilla (I’ve thrice returned to it – all largely Stamp-induced viewings) the initial thing that struck me about his performance was how ladylike, how refined, he was. I mean this in the right way. A familiar, iconic actor known more often than not for playing dashing, virile swaggerers, Stamp had all the poise and decorum of an experienced woman having already lived two lifetimes only halfway through just the one. Throughout the film’s duration the congenial allure of the character never waned or faltered. It was incisive acting; he gave a very clever performance. And funny. It was in how Bernadette tilted her head, how she sat down, the choice of both age-correct and -incorrect clothing - and the way she wore them on stage and off; and it was chiefly in the staunch determination perceptible in her droll, weary voice when she was on verge of jacking it all in. Thank god for Bob and Alice Springs. But the unladylike moments of combative scuffle, with single-minded dunderheads down under, tickled just as much: “Now listen here you mullet. Why don’t you just light your tampon and blow your box apart, because it’s the only bang you’re ever gonna get sweetheart!” Charming. Ten-nil to Bernadette.
Three more key films for the taking: The Collector (1965), Alien Nation (1988), The Limey (1999)
