Oliver Reed

Oliver Reed
was manlier than you
(and that goes double for you women)

Ollie as Oliver!'s Bill Sikes. What a scamp!

Oliver Reed was one of the last great real men of cinema and the stuff of folk legend. He was basically the origin of all post-Wild West era tough-guy clechés. Oliver Reed was the gnarliest honest-to-god-bad-ass ever to portray a fictitious bad-ass on screen. Just look at this guy... he looks the way Mr.Hyde should've looked. He looks like a guy that'll sick the hounds on you. Plus he's got all kinds of street cred from beating up hundreds of strangers in bar fights around the globe. He had knife scars on his face from fights HE WON! He's been stabbed, sucker-punched and clubbed and yet, he always managed to clean the floor with the sorry scoundrel that met his prehistoric gaze. He drank prodigious amounts of booze. Swore. Spat. Did one handed push-ups on the bar. And singularly composed the epicenter of a small wandering tornado that obliterated douchbags.

A rare non-menacing pose.

He was an ironic combination of tough guy and refinement An irony that he embraced with such zeal, that in all of his most infamous televised appearances, you can clearly see how proud he is of himself as he confounds his interviewers with the most deadpannedly delivered absurdities ever aired. He dressed himself impeccably and affected the sophisticated tones of aristocracy. His example is one of such singularity that he could never be imitated.
"I have two ambitions in life: one is to drink every pub dry, the other is to sleep with every woman on earth."
(Oliver Reed, paraphrased)

Ollie fondly reminiscing of the time he drank a case of beer, a magnum of wine, a gallon of scotch, beat 25 men at arm wrestling, squeezed 42 pairs of tits, ate an entire side of beef, smoked a box of Cuban cigars, and had sex with everybody.... No wait...he's unconscious in this one... (SORRY!)

Check that righteous 'stache... perfect use for all that surplus upper lip area of his.

He had a great sense of humor and never took himself too seriously. His fingers were like suspension bridge cables. He proudly grew and displayed nearly every possible facial hair combination. It just goes on and on. I can think of no more worthy a toast, that would satisfy the dark forces of the universe that so commonly prey on hapless drunks, than: (raise your glass high) "To Oliver Reed"

This is about as tough as any man could ever look whilst sitting in a restaurant booth.

• An amazing and absolutely true account of Ollie and Kieth Moon can be found here.
• A vast collection of photographs and anecdotes about the man may be found here.