At the time I needed a film crew sniffing through my recycling and composting bins like a hole in the head. However, it wasn’t long before I started having second thoughts. I’d been so busy covering other people’s lives for so long that I’d forgotten about the importance of my own. In September 2005, following a chance meeting with Michael Winner, I decided it was about time to give the public a taste of Big Mack. “For Lord’s sake don’t do it,” warned Mike. “You’ll be humiliated.” Coming from a man with a unique talent for humiliating himself on the big and small screens, that struck me as a bit rich. Undaunted, I got back in touch with the independent film-makers and agreed to appear in front of their cameras.
It wasn’t long before a one-off interview had become a series of weekly sparring sessions, with wily documentary filmmaker Malcolm Devereux seemingly camping day and night somewhere in the vicinity of my land. Admittedly I was standoffish at first – so much so that in the early days his preferred journalistic technique would consist of running alongside my Bentley waving a microphone as I backed out the garage, while mine would consist of discretely trying to run the annoying bastard over. However, as the months passed my suspicions eased, and I gradually came to regard Malcolm as one would an endearing gypsy squatter residing at the bottom of the garden (luckily our garden comprises several hectares of private property).
I sometimes think of my life as a game of cricket. As well as knocking seven bells out of the opposition, above all it’s about giving the spectators a good show; a show of grace under pressure that would have made W.G. proud. By all means subject the opposition to all manner of ruthless gamesmanship if you must (think “Bodyline”); but always do it in a way that fosters the illusion that one day they can compete with you on an even playing field.
This is the moral lesson that runs through every fibre of my being and will continue to inform my thinking until a better offer comes along: from charity to politics (which is just another form of charity in my book); from polo to shooting; from yachting to futures trading (which I sometimes combine with yachting), life is all about good works. Which brings me neatly onto the subject of my film.
London Premiere: Thursday 17 May 2007
I’ll be honest: I didn’t want to cede control to Malcolm and his colleagues at Films Noirs. I work in the media and am wary of the sort of "low down" tactics that the less scrupulous operators in my field can sometimes employ. As fascinating as my life undoubtedly is to other people, when you’re living the dream the magic does not always transfer to the TV format.
Nonetheless, The McClintock Factor is, I have no doubt, a televisual masterpiece. It may even scoop up a few awards - providing its producers have managed to keep the gossip and intrigue that currently surrounds my private life in some sort of perspective (and relevant parties please note here that nasty little surprises will be dealt with decisively by my “SWAT” legal team, who will be commandeering a large swathe of a West End hotel, ready to serve writs and injunctions on anyone who ever even thought of pointing a camera in my general direction).
I look forward to seeing you all at the premiere. Expect special guests. Evening wear is optional but attendance essential for RPP members.
(originally published 23 April 2007)
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