The actor

French actor Gerard Depardieu outraged fellow passengers by urinating in the aisle of an Air France flight as it prepared to take off on Tuesday…

A passenger on the flight said Depardieu, 62, the star of movies such as "Jean de Florette" and "Green Card," appeared to be drunk and insisted he be allowed to use the bathroom during takeoff, when passengers must remain seated.

When asked by a hostess to return to his seat, Depardieu urinated in the aisle.



Once upon a time, I met Depardieu. And by met, I mean the introduction was probably along the lines of, “This is R’s girlfriend.”



I was in college, it was 1979, at a small gathering. I don’t think anyone at the time could foresee the splash Depardieu would make a few years later, and the splash he'd make a few decades after that. He’s consistent, though; always sets his sights on #1.



But back when I met him, on this evening, a group of French and Americans surrounded this beau of the ball, murmuring things about mise en scene, diegesis. He was, to the best of my knowledge, at that time, still in the habit of using restrooms.



“Depardieu! He’s feral!” said this one director, who was a friend of a friend. “He follows his instincts, like an animal. He has no training, no education, he comes from the streets and has been in jail. He’s brilliant.”



I remember looking at Depardieu, and he didn’t seem so brilliant to me, just clumsy, with lumpy cheeks and a tuber-sort of nose like a sweet potato. The bull in a chinashop of French intellectuals and American guys who had lots of family money. As the night went on, Depardieu drank and drank, and grew increasingly oafish. Which seemed to please almost everyone.



It was a time when most people I knew thought misbehavior the purest form of behavior, but these people could only misbehave, themselves, by proxy.



So then there was a screening of the film. And Depardieu became Depardieu! Tender, strong, hurt, weak, virile. For an hour and a half, he was achingly, painfully beautiful.



When the lights came on, someone was snoring. Depardieu had passed out.



I plucked myself out of blatant misbehavior shortly thereafter. It’s fun to be a wild child, but eventually you’re not wild or a child, just meeting expectations. Besides, if you want to be wantonly mischievous for the rest of your life, you need handlers, around the clock.



I think we all reach a point in life when we decide whether we’re defined from the inside out or the outside in.



The inside out is tough, because you assume all responsibility for everything life throws your way. But the outside in, what artists call negative space, means you have no this, you’re only that. And one day you find yourself peeing in the aisle of a plane because you took this flight all by yourself but never learned to handle your own baggage.