OK, I’m coming clean.
I can’t keep it up anymore. The lies. The deceit. Living a double life.
I look in the mirror sometimes and I don’t know who it is that’s looking back out at me. I feel like a double-agent in my own life. Two names. Two identities. Two wildly differing lifestyles.
In one I’m just a humdrum office bod. I go out 9 to 5 and work for the man.
In the other I am the man. I have people looking after me. My people. I have an agent and a manager and a PA. I go off to crazy locations and shoot incredible movies that people love and adore. Everyone adores me. Women drool and men sigh. Women want me and men want to be me.
It is time to come clean.
I am Johnny Depp.
Captain Jack Sparrow, Edward Scissorhands, Ichabod Crane and John Dillinger... they were all me too. Me as Johnny Depp playing them, I mean. It all gets so confusing. I’ve snogged Christina Ricci, Penelope Cruz and Keira Knightly to name but a few.
And they were all shit. No-one beats my wife.
And my wife, who you all know as “Karen”, is really Vanessa Paradis. I may as well out her too while I’m in the mood to be honest.
I’ve tried hiding who I am for years. In every film I try and disguise my look, change my face so that the real me is not recognizable. But years ago I got lazy. I made a film called The Ninth Gate and I couldn’t be bothered to wear coloured contact lenses or shave my head. I told my agent the days when I blacked up and played the banjo are long behind me. It’s PC or nothing now. So I appeared as myself. As me.
I thought I’d got away with it but someone at work recently saw the film... made the connection and they’ve outed me.
So now my workmates know that for all these years they’ve been working alongside Johnny Depp and they never realized it.
I’m sure, as with you, there will be a sense of chagrin. A sense of opportunities wasted. Well, look. I’ll sign your autograph books now if you want. I’ll pose for photos. I’ll kiss your wives, girlfriends, babies, even you.
I’ll take you to Cannes next time I have a movie out. That’s a promise.
Because, finally, here’s the proof. See below.
I rest my case.