The Polo Lounge in the Beverly Hills Hotel has been a Tinseltown fixture since its doors opened in 1941, so is an appropriate place for lunch with Michael Douglas. A two-time Oscar-winner, he has his own decades of history in Hollywood, as did his late father Kirk, who had a favourite table. From Marlene Dietrich and Charlie Chaplin to Steven Spielberg and Leonardo DiCaprio, the A-list has dined here. Dean Martin celebrated his 49th birthday at the lounge, when an art collector was left with a fractured skull after a brawl involving Frank Sinatra, and studio bosses down the decades have sat in its booths to see, be seen and do deals.

Douglas is waiting at a booth in the bar, smart in a dark jacket (the dress code prohibits ripped denim or crop tops) and a crisp pink shirt. Robbie Williams is at the next booth, playing with his phone and looking as if he just got out of bed, which he might well have done: it is barely noon on Sunday, which explains the three-course “prix-fixe” brunch, priced at a mere $155 per person. 

My mind immediately turns to the FT’s expenses department. “Oh my God,” says Douglas, who has also noticed the price. He has chosen today’s restaurant and says he’s sure that Apple TV+, which is screening Franklin, his new mini-series about Benjamin Franklin, will pick up the tab. But Lunch with the FT rules are clear: the FT pays. “In that case, Matthew,” he says, chuckling, “thank you so much for picking this restaurant.” The prix-fixe includes a drink, so I say a silent prayer to the expenses gods and order a Bloody Mary.