Rupert Everett has played aristocrats, rogues, and romantic foils with the kind of arch precision few actors can match. But nothing prepared him for being unceremoniously let go from Netflix’s “Emily in Paris.” The British star recently opened up about the abrupt dismissal that left him bedridden with grief—and the quiet cruelty of a business that forgets as quickly as it flatters.
A brief role, a lasting sting
Everett’s turn as Giorgio Barbieri, a flamboyant Italian design mogul, was never meant to dominate the screen. His single-episode appearance in Season 4 of Emily in Paris served as one of the show’s many cosmopolitan detours—a sprinkle of European camp to complement the fashion-fueled chaos of Lily Collins’ ever-charmed Emily. But to Everett, the role carried more weight than its screen time suggested.
“I was fired,” he said bluntly while attending the Marateale film festival in Italy. “I did a scene in the latest season, and they told me, ‘Next year we’ll speak.’ I waited for them to call me—but ultimately, it never came.” His words, shared in a moment of candor with Vanity Fair, laid bare the raw truth: that even a veteran of stage and screen is not immune to the industry’s quiet indifference.
There was no dramatic scandal, no creative clash—just silence. And in that silence, Everett found a kind of heartbreak. “For me, it was a tragedy,” he confessed. “I was in bed for two weeks because I couldn’t get over it.”
When the call doesn’t come
There’s a peculiar cruelty in being half-promised the next chapter only to be cut out of the narrative altogether. Everett’s admission sheds light on a feeling common in creative professions yet rarely discussed: the lingering ache of being forgotten.
“Show business is always very difficult, from the beginning to the end,” he reflected. “When they write the screenplay, they think they want you—but then things change, and they lose your character. I don’t know why.”
That “why” remains a mystery. In a show as effervescent and over-the-top as Emily in Paris, characters often drift in and out with as much permanence as a couture scarf. But for Everett, the absence wasn’t just professional—it was deeply personal. At 65, with a storied career behind him and plenty ahead, he still found himself vulnerable to the sting of exclusion.
Still standing, still working
Yet the story doesn’t end in that hotel room in Paris or the weeks spent in bed afterward. Despite the blow, Everett remains as creatively vital as ever. He received the Basilicata International Award at the Marateale festival, a nod to a career that’s spanned decades, from My Best Friend’s Wedding to An Ideal Husband to his acclaimed directorial debut, The Happy Prince.
He’s currently attached to multiple new projects, including the upcoming comedy The Liar opposite Jeff Goldblum. And there’s growing buzz about a long-anticipated sequel to My Best Friend’s Wedding, in which fans hope to see Everett reprise his beloved role as George Downes—the gay best friend who stole scenes (and hearts) with withering charm and emotional clarity.
In some ways, it’s a full-circle moment. George was always the one who knew the game, who stayed one step ahead of emotional disaster. But perhaps Everett’s real life, stripped of Hollywood polish, is even more poignant. In an industry addicted to novelty and youth, he’s offering something rarer: vulnerability without vanity.
Beyond the glamour of ‘Emily’
Emily in Paris has built its success on sugar-rush aesthetics and Instagrammable fantasy, often shrugging off deeper emotional threads in favor of plotline sparkle. Everett’s firing, however, casts a subtle shadow over that glitter. It’s a reminder that behind the frothy Parisian soirées and absurd fashion, real actors with real feelings populate those sets.
And yet, Everett isn’t bitter—just bruised. He speaks not with rage but with sorrow, which makes his confession all the more affecting. In a time when most celebrity press is either polished PR or scandal-baiting outrage, his quiet pain lands like an elegy for something more human.
A career shaped by reinvention, not rejection
Everett’s trajectory has never been linear. He’s been adored and overlooked, cast and cast aside. But what remains constant is his ability to transmute experience into expression. Whether in front of the camera, behind it, or simply telling the truth at a festival in Italy, he brings a rare kind of candor to the public eye.
And while Emily in Paris may have left him behind, his fans and peers clearly haven’t. If anything, this small betrayal underscores a larger truth: that Rupert Everett’s elegance, wit, and honesty make him far more than a supporting player in someone else’s fantasy. He’s a story worth following—no matter who forgets to call.
