'Lawrence of Arabia' star Peter O'Toole dead at 81 

 Known on the one hand for his starring role in "Lawrence of Arabia," leading tribesmen in challenging attacks over the wasteland trashes, and on the other for his headlong charges into drunken debauchery, Peter O'Toole was one of the most magnetic, charismatic and fun numbers in British acting.

O'Toole, who died Saturday at age 81 at the personal Wellington Hospital in London after a long bout of sickness, was nominated a record eight times for an Academy accolade without taking home a single figurine.

He was fearsomely handsome, with flaming azure eyes and a penchant for hard dwelling which long outlived his decision to give up alcoholic beverage. Broadcaster Michael Parkinson notified Sky News television it was hard to be too miserable about his transient.

"Peter didn't depart much of life unlived, did he?" he said.

A restructured — but unrepentant — hell-raiser, O'Toole long suffered from sick wellbeing. habitually thin, he had developed wraithlike in later years, his very well handsome face eroded by years of outrageous consuming.

But not anything diminished his flamboyant manner and candor.

"If you can't do certain thing willingly and joyfully, then don't do it," he one time said. "If you give up consuming, don't proceed moaning about it; proceed back on the container. Do. As. Thou. Wilt."

O'Toole began his acting vocation as one of the most exciting juvenile talents on the British stage. His 1955 "Hamlet," at the Bristol vintage Vic, was critically acclaimed.

International stardom came in David Lean's epic "Lawrence of Arabia." With only a few secondary movie functions behind him, O'Toole was unidentified to most moviegoers when they first saw him as T.E. Lawrence, the mythic British World conflict I soldier and scholar who commanded an Arab rebellion against the Turks.

His sensitive portrayal of Lawrence's convoluted feature garnered O'Toole his first Oscar nomination, and the spectacularly photographed wasteland epic continues his best known function. O'Toole was tall, equitable and strikingly handsome, and the likeness of his brilliant azure eyes gazing out of an Arab headdress in Lean's movie was unforgettable.

Playwright Noel Coward one time said that if O'Toole had been any prettier, they would have had to call the video "Florence of Arabia."

Prime Minister David Cameron said Sunday the movie was his favorite film, calling O'Toole's performance "stunning."

player Will Ferrell furthermore recalled "Lawrence of Arabia."

"My dad took me to glimpse a re-release of 'Lawrence of Arabia' on the big computer display and I couldn't get over how astonishing that video looked for the time it was shot and how charismatic he was on screen," Ferrell said Sunday at the New York premiere of "Anchorman 2." ''You discover a title like Peter O'Toole, you discover these titles and you proceed, 'uh, yes, OK, they were video stars,' then you watch them on video and you proceed, 'they actually were video stars."

In 1964's "Becket," O'Toole played King Henry II to Richard Burton's Thomas Becket, and won another Oscar nomination. Burton shared O'Toole's fondness for consuming, and their off-set carousing made headlines.

O'Toole performed Henry again in 1968 in "The Lion in Winter," converse Katharine Hepburn, for his third Oscar nomination.

Four more nominations followed: in 1968 for "Goodbye, Mr. Chips," in 1971 for "The Ruling Class," in 1980 for "The Stunt Man," and in 1982 for "My Favorite Year." It was nearly a quarter-century before he obtained his eighth and last, for "Venus."

For writer-producer Judd Apatow, in addition to "Lawrence of Arabia," ''My very popular Year," furthermore stands out. "I related to the comedy author suspending out with the mad player because I've done that a few times," he said at the "Anchorman 2 premiere.

Seamus Peter O'Toole was born Aug. 2, 1932, the son of Irish bookie Patrick "Spats" O'Toole and his wife Constance. There is some inquiry about if Peter was born in Connemara, Ireland, or in Leeds, to the north England, where he increased up, but he sustained close connections to Ireland, even befriending the country's now-president, Michael D. Higgins.

Ireland and the world have "lost one of the giants of movie and theater," Higgins said in a statement.

After a teenage foray into journalism at the Yorkshire night Post and nationwide military service with the navy, a juvenile O'Toole auditioned for the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art and won a scholarship.

He went from there to the Bristol vintage Vic and soon was on his way to stardom, assisted along by an early success in 1959 at London's Royal Court Theatre in "The Long and The Short and The Tall."

The image of the renegade hell-raiser resided with O'Toole for decades, although he provided up drinking in 1975 following serious health problems and major surgery.

He did not, although, give up fuming unfiltered Gauloises tobacco in an ebony holder. That and his penchant for green socks, voluminous overcoats and trailing scarves loaned him a rakish air and suited his fondness for drama in the contemporary "bravura" kind.

A month before his 80th anniversary in 2012, O'Toole broadcast his retirement from a vocation that he said had fulfilled him strongly felt and financially, conveying "me together with fine persons, good companions with whom I've distributed the inevitable lot of all actors: flops and hits."

"However, it's my conviction that one should conclude for oneself when it is time to end one's stay," he said. "So I bid the occupation a dry-eyed and deeply grateful farewell."

In retirement, O'Toole said he would aim on the third volume of his memoirs.

Good components were sometimes couple of and far between, but "I take anything good part arrives along," O'Toole notified The Independent on Sunday bulletin in 1990.

"And if there isn't a good part, then I do any thing, just to pay the rent. Money is habitually a pressure. And waiting for the right part — you could wait eternally. So I turn up and do the best I can."

The 1980 "Macbeth" in which he starred was a critical catastrophe of heroic proportions. But it performed to sellout assemblies, largely because the savaging by the detractors brought out the curiousness seekers.

"The considered of it makes my nose bleed," he said years subsequent.

In 1989, however, O'Toole had a big stage achievement with "Jeffrey Bernard is Unwell," a comical performance about his vintage consuming buddy, the legendary layabout and females' man who wrote The Spectator magazine's weekly "Low Life" column when he was sober enough to do so.

The honorary Oscar came 20 years after his seventh nomination for "My very popular Year." By then it appeared a safe wager that O'Toole's prospects for another nomination were slim. He was still working frequently, but in lesser functions improbable to earn accolades vigilance.

O'Toole graciously accepted the honorary accolade, quipping, "Always a bridesmaid, never a bride, my foot," as he clutched his Oscar statuette.

He had almost turned down the accolade, sending a note asking that the Academy of Motion image Arts and Sciences contain off on the honorary Oscar until he turned 80.

wanting another Oscar-worthy function would arrive his way, O'Toole composed: "I am still in the game and might win the bugger outright."

The last possibility came in, for "Venus," in which he performed a lecherous vintage player consigned to roles as feeble-minded royals or aged men on their death beds. By falling short afresh to win, he broke the bind for futility which had been distributed with Richard Burton, his old consuming buddy.

O'Toole separated Welsh actress Sian Phillips in 1979, after 19 years of wedding ceremony. The twosome had two daughters, Kate and Pat.

A short connection with American form Karen Somerville led to the birth of his child Lorcan in 1983, and a change of lifestyle for O'Toole.

After a long custody battle, a U.S. judge directed Somerville should have her son during school holidays, and O'Toole would have custody during the school year.

"The pirate boat has berthed," he declared, joyously taking on the responsibilities of fatherhood. He wise to adviser schoolboy cricket and, when he was in a play, the backdrop time was moved back to permit him part of the evenings at dwelling with his son.

O'Toole's death was announced by agent Steve Kenis, who said the actor had been sick for some time.

His daughter Kate said the family had been overwhelmed by the expressions of understanding.

"In due course there will be a memorial topped up with recital and good cheer, as he would have wished," she said in the statement.