With the wealth of international stars and true legends Moore could discuss, why, oh why, are fully 60% of the stories in this book comprised of stale, hackneyed rehashes concerning totally unknown British character actors? The author even finds the need to dig up the crème de la crème of old, old chestnuts: a legendary and mortally ill British actor is asked "dying, is it hard?" only to reply: "dying is easy, comedy is hard" This bit of nonsense has been attributed to every Anglo-Saxon performer from Garrick to Gielgud----if true then every British thespian must be contractually bound to spout this on his deathbed. Using this old , old adage to suit my own purposes, is dying hard? No, dying must be easy compared with coming up with fresh, new and interesting anecdote for your memoires.