Whenever I'm on a plane I end up buying some cinema book I've had a hankerin' to read. This month that's Star: How Warren Beatty Seduced America. Unfortunately, I already cheated and read the introduction "Warrenology".
...I had met a lot of stars, but never met anyone quite like him. Indecently gifted, he acted, he wrote, he directed, he produced. A brilliant mind. Tough. Analytical. Inquisitive. Hoovered up everything and gave back nothing. Funny. Self-deprecating. And good, or reasonably good, politics. And he was classy, had style to burn. Nothing and no one ruffled his feathers. He was Captain Cool, Mr. Natural. It cost considerable effort to present a lacquered exterior like his, but he pulled it off with seeming ease. Grace. That was the magic of it: you never saw the gears grinding. Norman Mailer, when he wrote about Beatty for Vanity Fair, called it "charm," tried to define it, and gave up.I already ♥ it.
I had never been a big believer in vaporous concepts like "charisma," which I filed away with "karma," "vibes," and "auras," but I'm embarrassd to report that when I was in his presence I felt an almost palpable sense of well-being, as if I were a better person because Warren Beatty liked me, or pretended he did.