THE

RELUCTANT

HERO

A decade on, the nation's

bosom still heaves over his

damp-shirted Mr. Darcy,

but Janice Turner discovers

Colin Firth never aimed to

be a sex symbol

   The last time I visited the Portobello Hotel was to interview gigolos as they were photographed, oiled-up and naked, in a bath. I hesitate to mention this to Colin Firth since our conversation in the hotel’s breakfast room has hitherto had an earnest, thoughtful air. But he seizes on the subject: "Were they good-looking? Did they take pride in their work? Were they gay? Who were their clients?"

   They love a bit of filth, do actors, and Firth breaks momentarily with his sensible interview persona to tell me that Rupert Everett, a rent boy before drama school, had a client who, many years later, became a close friend (although Everett has never revealed to him they'd met before in seedier circumstances).
   But then, are our romantic leading men so far removed from gigolos? Both make a living knowing how to arouse and satisfy female desire. The differences being that film stars only pretend and are much better paid. Firth is in the highest echelon of British male