“In his blue eyes and chipmunk cheeks, in the flamboyant theatricality of his gestures, there is still the ghost of the pretty cherub this Methuselah once was.” But he can still talk up a storm: sniping at people and cities, dissing his mentors, namedropping Maria Callas and Berlusconi. And he’s still working: “It is the only thing I have. I don’t have love.”