The Uncaged Truth: Miriam Margolyes, at 84, Unlocks a Vault of Hollywood Hostility and Unspeakable On-Set Cruelty

At 84 years young, actress Miriam Margolyes is not just defying the conventions of Hollywood—she is shattering them. In an industry built on polished smiles and carefully managed public relations, Margolyes stands alone, a towering, unfiltered, and gloriously outspoken force of nature. Known for her infectious humor, yet often equally famous for her brutal honesty, she has never hesitated to say exactly what is on her mind, regardless of the celebrity status of those she calls out.

Her latest revelations, drawn from a career spanning over six decades and a recent wave of candid memoirs, have sent shockwaves through the entertainment world. Margolyes is lifting the curtain on the bitter rivalries, deep grudges, and genuine hatred she harbored for some of her most famous co-stars. What started as small professional disagreements on set, she reveals, ballooned into bitter, years-long animosity, painting a raw, uncomfortable, and utterly captivating portrait of the ugliness that can lurk behind the magic of cinema. From an unforgivable act of gross physical disrespect by a major action star to the alleged predatory cruelty of a beloved British comedian, Margolyes is not just sharing anecdotes; she is delivering a necessary corrective to Hollywood’s sanitized history.

The Iconoclast’s Genesis: From Oxford Wit to First-Ever TV Curse

To understand the ferocity of Miriam Margolyes’s truth-telling, one must appreciate the foundations of her defiant spirit. Born in Oxford in 1941 to a Scottish doctor and a determined property developer, her upbringing was marked by culture, intellect, and a fierce curiosity. Her academic journey through Oxford High School and then Nunham College, Cambridge, shaped the formidable wit that defines her.

It was at Cambridge’s renowned Footlights Club, a legendary breeding ground for British comedic talent, that her unique, unfiltered voice first emerged. In a telling sign of the outspoken career to come, she made a bit of British television history during the very first University Challenge broadcast in 1963. While on the air, she accidentally let slip a “forbidden word,” becoming perhaps one of the first people to ever swear on British television. The moment was bleeped, but the spirit of bold, uncompromising honesty was already perfectly in tune with the woman she would become. Her stories are not mere gossip; they are the considered reflections of a woman who has never felt the need to apologize for her existence, or for her judgment of others.

The Monty Python Feud: A Rivalry Rooted in Ego and Gender

Among the first of her legendary co-stars to face her sharp scrutiny are two pillars of British comedy: John Cleese and the late Graham Chapman. Margolyes’s memories of them reach back to the early 1960s at Footlights. While she later acknowledged Cleese’s genius—from the absurd brilliance of Monty Python to the sharp humor of Faulty Towers—her personal memories are laced with deep disappointment.

She recalled the pair treating her with a profound touch of hostility, particularly when her quick timing and charm drew much-deserved laughter from the audience. In her eyes, the tension was a clear-cut case of rivalry rooted in male ego and gender—the discomfort of male comedians unaccustomed to a woman matching their confidence and wit. “They didn’t like it,” she once stated, her tone carrying both the sting of the rejection and the sadness of a camaraderie never truly realized.

Her reflections on John Cleese, in particular, were biting, describing his transformation with poetically harsh language. She likened it to “milk gone sour,” claiming he had become an “irrelevance,” a faded shadow of the bold comic he once was. Her words, though harsh, seem driven by a genuine mourning for the loss of a talent she once admired, now, in her view, corrupted by time and celebrity. It is a testament to her fairness, however, that her memories of the Python troupe were not entirely bleak. She spoke warmly of the “ever-kind” Michael Palin and the intelligence and humor of Eric Idle, contrasting their decency with the aloofness of Cleese and Chapman. For Margolyes, the world of comedy was, and remains, a place where brilliance and cruelty often walk hand in hand.

The Nastiest Man in Showbiz: The Dark Allegations Against Terry Scott

Perhaps the most troubling revelations in her autobiography target actor and comedian Terry Scott, a face familiar to British audiences for the beloved Carry-On films and the sitcom Terry and June. Margolyes did not mince words, labeling him unequivocally as “the nastiest person she had ever shared a set with.” She claimed that beneath his cheerful, comic persona lay a deeply unsettling pattern of behavior that made life miserable for those around him.

The most serious accusations center on Scott’s alleged conduct toward the younger chorus girls on set. Margolyes claimed he “often crossed professional boundaries, attempting to kiss or grope them without consent.” When these attempts were met with rejection, he would allegedly retaliate with cruel remarks. For Margolyes, these moments revealed not only arrogance but a profound lack of respect—a darker side of show business rarely acknowledged at the time. She speculated that perhaps his behavior was curbed when he worked alongside the dignified June Whitfield, whose grace and professionalism, she suggested, commanded respect even from the most difficult of men.

Her account of Scott’s nastiness stood in stark contrast to her warm memories of others, notably the late entertainer Bob Monkhouse. Margolyes described Monkhouse as the “exact opposite—kind, witty, and endlessly considerate,” going so far as to call him the best male kisser she had ever encountered. This contrast is key to Margolyes’s critique: she is not merely complaining about difficult actors, but highlighting a systemic lack of decency, suggesting that kindness is the rarest and most valuable gift in the entertainment world.

The Flatulence Heard ‘Round the World: Arnold Schwarzenegger’s Unspeakable Act

Of all the celebrity takedowns in her career, few are as shocking or bizarre as her account of working with Hollywood titan Arnold Schwarzenegger on the 1999 supernatural thriller, End of Days. Margolyes, who played the Devil’s sister in the film, recalled an incident that has become the definitive symbol of her disdain for the action star.

Recalling the moment on the I’ve Got News for You podcast, Margolyes spoke with palpable disgust. During the shooting of a particularly intense scene, she was positioned on the floor, unable to move while cameras were being reset. In that vulnerable moment, Schwarzenegger, she claimed, committed what she described as an act of “sheer disrespect”—he deliberately passed gas in her face.

The act was so crude and unexpected that it left her stunned. Decades later, her voice still carries the sharp sting of that humiliation. Margolyes did not hold back her feelings, calling out Schwarzenegger’s arrogance, describing him as “full of himself” and severely lacking in the humility one might expect from a man of his stature. She even linked her intense disapproval to his political leanings, remarking that his alignment with the Republican party only deepened her disdain. What might have been dismissed by others as a tasteless prank became, in Margolyes’s telling, a vivid symbol of how unchecked power and ego can utterly strip away basic human decency.

The Hollywood Humility Test: Winona Ryder and the ‘Shoplifting’ Scorn

The targets of Margolyes’s candor are not only figures from the past; contemporary Hollywood stars are also in her crosshairs. During a 2021 appearance on The Graham Norton Show, she once again proved that time has not dulled her feelings of animosity. While promoting her memoir, she opened up about her less-than-flattering experience working with Winona Ryder on Martin Scorsese’s The Age of Innocence.

The atmosphere on set, she suggested, was far colder than the elaborate period costumes implied. Her critique of Ryder was delivered with characteristic bluntness, as she referred to the actress using a crude nickname that alluded to her infamous 2001 shoplifting scandal. This incident, where Ryder was convicted for stealing thousands of dollars worth of designer items, seemed to define how Margolyes viewed the actress—as someone whose fame had completely “outshown her humility.”

Her remarks sent audible ripples through the studio audience, causing co-host Stephen Fry to visibly cover his face in embarrassed disbelief as laughter erupted across the room. Yet, beneath the mischief, Margolyes’s tone carried a melancholic undercurrent, a subtle lament for a time when Hollywood stars, in her mind, carried a different kind of grace and professionalism. She views Ryder’s celebrity not as a badge of honor, but as a cautionary tale of what happens when fame replaces grounded humility.

The Sadistic Dentist and the Headache: Critiquing Steve Martin’s Method

Another film that offered a jarring contrast between on-screen laughter and off-screen discomfort was the 1986 dark musical, Little Shop of Horrors. Margolyes shared the screen with Steve Martin, who played the sadistic dentist Orin Scrivello. While their scenes were meant to be comic chaos, Margolyes recalled an experience that turned uncomfortably real.

During the filming of the iconic dentist number, Martin’s physical performance was so forceful that she ended the day with an actual, throbbing headache. She later suggested that Martin was simply too immersed in his role, too deep into the character’s manic energy to notice where the acting ended and real physical discomfort began. She didn’t shy away from admitting that she found his behavior “harsh, horrid.” Her recollection becomes a subtle critique of excessive method acting, where an actor’s commitment to the character eclipses basic human consideration for their scene partners.

However, even in this memory of chaos, Margolyes finds room for light. She spoke warmly of another co-star, the gentle and unassuming Steve Buscemi, whose kindness stood in sharp contrast to Martin’s intensity. This balance is the true gift of her storytelling: the willingness to expose the worst of the industry, while simultaneously shining a spotlight on the quiet decency of the few who still possess it.

The Uncompromising Legacy of a Truth-Teller

Miriam Margolyes’s career is more than a list of memorable roles; it is an ongoing, uncompromising act of cultural commentary. By naming the co-stars she “hated the most,” she isn’t seeking revenge or petty gossip. Instead, she is utilizing the license of her age and her towering reputation to offer a vital, unfiltered perspective on the industry she has called home for decades.

Her stories—whether detailing alleged predatory behavior, the sting of a comic’s ego, or an unthinkable act of disrespect by a global celebrity—force the public to confront the complex, often cruel reality that exists behind the glittering facade of Hollywood and show business. In an era saturated with carefully curated celebrity images, Miriam Margolyes is a rare, cherished, and necessary voice of truth. Her candor is an act of service, reminding audiences that sometimes, the greatest performance a person can give is simply being a decent, kind, and humble human being.