They say you should never meet your heroes. In 1996, I was 21 years old, an age for believing in heroes, and Peter O'Toole was as big as they came. Lawrence of Arabia wasn't just my favourite film, I was obssessed with it. I'd watched my old VHS copy so many times I'd worn out the best scenes; I'd trekked to a revival showing in a cinema just to see it on the big screen; I'd hunted down copies of O'Toole's other films in obscure video stores in London: The Night of the Generals, The Stuntman, My … [Read more...]