Brittish Actors

Collection of Classic Brittish Actors

Natasha Richardson
Natasha Richardson
Natasha Richardson

“Guardian” obituary by Tim Pulleine:

It was surely in the stars that Natasha Richardson, who has died aged 45 after suffering head injuries in a skiing accident near Montreal, would become a member of the theatrical profession. The daughter of the actorVanessa Redgrave and the director-producer Tony Richardson, she was among the third generation of a family steeped in the performing arts, her maternal grandparents being the actors Sir Michael Redgrave and Rachel Kempson.

But while she remained close to her family, it was at the professional distance of her choosing: she settled in New York, took US citizenship, deployed a flawless American accent as necessary, and enjoyed her finest cinematic moment as the kidnapped California media heiress Patty Hearst.

Natasha’s career in film started at the age of four, when she and her younger sister, Joely, figured as extras in their father’s film The Charge of the Light Brigade. Joely also went on to a successful acting career, as did their cousin Jemma, daughter of the actor Corin Redgrave, in recent years an admired King Lear.

Born in London, Natasha studied at the Lycée Français and St Paul’s girls school, Hammersmith. Her parents divorced when she was three. Her mother was much involved in campaigning for the Workers Revolutionary party and fundraising for refugees, and to see their father the two girls went to France and California. Natasha felt strongly loved and supported by both parents, but grew up fast: when she came to have her own children, she was keen for them to have a rather more orderly upbringing.

A determined teenager, she decided to take a hold on her future by leaving St Paul’s at 16, so that she could take her A-levels in one year rather than two. When she auditioned at the Central School of Speech and Drama, London, she kept quiet about being a Redgrave.

However, she soon gained a reputation in her own right in the theatre, in particular from a 1985 staging of Chekhov’s The Seagull alongside her mother.

Natasha’s first film role was in the low-budget Every Picture Tells a Story (1984), and two years later she reached a wider audience in the guise of Mary Shelley as perceived by Ken Russell in his extravagant Gothic. This was a gruelling experience in which she was at one point required to be covered from head to foot in spinach as a practical substitute for primeval slime. On location, made up with huge dark circles under her eyes, she cheerfully confided to me: “I’d probably look a lot worse if I had really been through all this.”

Her next screen appearance was in distinct contrast, as the wife of a rural Yorkshire clergyman in A Month in the Country (1987), an adaptation of JL Carr’s novel. Although the film was set in the 1920s, Richardson imported an almost pre-Raphaelite quality of the ethereal.

Ordeal, however, was again the keynote of her next film, which marked her arrival in international cinema with the title role in Paul Schrader’s Patty Hearst (1988). This was a dramatisation of near-expressionist intensity of how William Randolph Hearst’s granddaughter was kidnapped by, and then became an adherent of, the Symbionese Liberation Army. The film inevitably rested to a considerable degree on the quality of its central performance: this was a tour de force, making it all the sadder that its harrowing quality denied the film acceptance by a wide audience.

In Shadow Makers (1989), Richardson took the less central but elegiac role of the suicidal lover of the US nuclear physicist and father of the atom bomb Robert Oppenheimer. Then she was reunited with Schrader for a film in a very different register, The Comfort of Strangers (1990). Derived from Ian McEwan’s novel and set in Venice, it is a chilly chamber drama, with Richardson conveying suitable presence as one half of an English couple caught up in a strange erotic imbroglio.

This film, and the screen version of Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale (1990), may have had an art-house stamp, but in the US, where she went to live in the early 1990s, Richardson was seen by a larger television audience. This came about through two acclaimed 1993 TV films, in roles of a matchingly febrile kind, as the victimised heroine of Tennessee Williams’s Suddenly Last Summer and as Zelda Fitzgerald, disturbed wife of the novelist F Scott Fitzgerald, in Zelda.

From her early 20s, Richardson had been the partner of Robert Fox, a theatre and film producer 11 years older than her, and she took charge of his three children. Fox also came from a theatre family, as the younger brother of Edward and James. They married in 1990.

The following year, her father Tony died of an HIV-related illness, and Natasha invited the Irish actor Liam Neeson to co-star with her in a much-lauded Broadway revival of Eugene O’Neill’s Anna Christie. In 1994, Richardson and Fox were divorced, and Neeson, also 11 years her senior, became her second husband. That year, too, they appeared together on screen in the psychological melodrama Nell.

In 1995, she ventured into the more lighthearted, and commercially safer, reaches of family comedy by acting in the Disney remake of The Parent Trap, achieving the feat of not being upstaged in what is essentially a vehicle for a juvenile performer, with Lindsay Lohan in the role that in 1961 had been taken by Hayley Mills. Richardson revisited the territory of glossy comedy to engaging effect with Jennifer Lopez in Maid in Manhattan (2002).

By this time, Richardson had already expended considerable effort on trying to get Asylum, Patrick McGrath’s novel about events in a psychiatric hospital modelled on Broadmoor in the 1950s, translated to the cinema screen. When the project was finally realised, in 2005, it provided her with the sexually charged role of a neglected psychiatrist’s wife who starts an affair with one of her husband’s patients, incarcerated for beheading his former wife.

The same year saw The White Countess, the final collaboration by producer Ismail Merchant and director James Ivory – Merchant died during production – exchanging the British in India for displaced Russian aristocrats in the Shanghai of 1936. Richardson took the title role of Countess Sofiya Belinskaya, still glamorous despite her straitened circumstances. For only the second time in her career, she joined her mother and aunt Lynn, with Ralph Fiennes playing a US diplomat in an oblique screenplay by Kazuo Ishiguro.

Despite a strong lineup of female stars including Richardson, with the central figure played by Claire Danes in youth and Vanessa Redgrave 50 years later, Evening (2007) made little impact. Richardson’s last film appearance came as the English headteacher with the task of instilling a sense of proper, old-world discipline into exiled American schoolgirl Emma Roberts in the teen comedy Wild Child (2008).

Stage work continued to be important to Richardson. Her repertoire of strong characters continued with Ibsen’s obsessive Ellida Wangel, The Lady from the Sea, reopening the Almeida Theatre, north London, in 2003, and on Broadway with Blanche DuBois in Tennessee Williams’s A Streetcar Named Desire two years later. Her range was considerable: in 1998, she won a Tony award for her playing of Sally Bowles in a new Broadway production of the musical Cabaret, and at the time of her death was preparing to co-star with her mother in a Broadway revival of Stephen Sondheim’s A Little Night Music.

While that link persisted – Richardson’s first childhood appearance in The Charge of the Light Brigade had been as Vanessa’s bridesmaid – there is every reason to suppose that she would have continued to demonstrate her versatility in the years ahead.

She is survived by her husband Liam Neeson, their two sons, Micheál and Daniel, her mother Vanessa and the other acting Redgraves of their two generations.

Natasha Jane Richardson, actor, born 11 May 1963; died 18 March 2009

• This article was amended on Saturday 28 March 2009. In the obituary of Natasha Richardson above we said she gained a reputation in the theatre from a performance alongside her mother and aunt in Chekhov’s Three Sisters in 1985. She appeared with her mother in Chekhov’s The Seagull that year. Vanessa and Lynn Redgrave appeared with their niece Jemma Redgrave in Three Sisters in 1990. This has been corrected.

The above “Guardian” obituary can also be accessed online here.

Peter Egan
Peter Egan
Peter Egan
Peter Egan
Peter Egan

Claire Webb’s interview with Peter Egan in 2012 in “Radio Times”:

Do you remember rebellious Lady Rose – the spirited cousin who ruffled feathers when she was caught canoodling with a married man in a nightclub? Well, in the Christmas special the Crawleys will return the visit, heading up north to visit Lady Rose’s clan in their Scottish castle.

Peter Egan, who plays Lady Rose’s father Shrimpie Flintshire, discusses his Downton debut…

First impressions?

It was hard work! Myself and Hugh Bonneville spent the first day of filming on our bellies for eight hours, crawling through muddy heather and animal poo. We were stalking – getting up close to the stag that Lord Grantham shoots.

It sounds tiring

…and sweaty and damp. I had a pain across the middle of my chest for three days afterwards and thought I was going to have a heart attack. And I had the thighs of a woman in love. I earned my money on that day, I can tell you.

What’s the Marquess like?

Shrimpie is a very warm, caring man who has a terrible relationship with his wife and difficulty in dealing with his daughter. He’s very much in the palm of Lady Rose’s hand and very concerned by her future.

Why is he called Shrimpie?

I thought it might have been to do with the fact that I’m quite a big actor and it was quite an apposite contradiction. But I think it’s because he was the youngest of the family.

Is Shrimpie’s estate as stunning as Highclere?

It’s quite magical. We filmed in Inveraray Castle, which is the seat of the Duke of Argyll – Chief of the Clan of Campbell – who’s very high in the political echelons of Scottish society. I found out I would be wearing a kilt, which gave me the horrors – but the Duke was thrilled to see that I’m wearing a Campbell cloth.

Did you wear your kilt in the traditional way?

On my hips? Yes, I did wear it in the traditional way and it was…rather pleasant. Strangely enough, you feel more manly in a kilt because you present yourself physically in a certain way – as long as it’s not A-line.

How did the role come about?

I begged. No, it was just one of those nice presents. I was absolutely thrilled to be asked. If you ask any actor in Britain or America, they all want to be in Downton because it’s such a beautifully produced television series. We lost our way with television in the nineties after the Broadcasting Act when the quality control was taken out of bidding for franchises – and the door was opened to so much chewing gum for the eyeballs.

Downton is putting [British] television back into the centre of the arena: HBO has done fantastic television for many years; the Scandinavians are doing fantastic television; and we had fallen behind for many, many years. I think that Downton has really upped the ante for British television.

What was it like working with Dame Maggie Smith? Is she as fearsome as the Dowager Countess of Grantham?

She’s one of my heroines from when I was a student and used to see her at the National, so it was a great thrill having a relative in the series as wonderful as Maggie Smith. She’s a total professional and the most wonderful presence – she he brings a history to that character that is remarkable, I think.

It may be your first time in a kilt but it’s not the first time you’ve played an aristocrat…

What is very strange is my background totally belied the parts I’ve played: my father was from Dublin, my mother was from Battersea and I was brought up on a council estate in Kilburn, went to a secondary modern and left when I was 15. Yet I’ve spent most of my life in tights, frockcoats and periwigs. It’s a bizarre thing.

Will we see Shrimpie in series four of Downton?

I shall try begging. I’d love it if that were the case.

 

The above “Radio Times” interview can also be accessed online here.

 
 
Karl Howman
Karl Howman
Karl Howman

Karl Howman was born in 1952 in London.   He is well known for his performance in the late 1980’s British television series “Brush Strokes”.   His movies include “That Will be the Day” in 1973 with David Essex and Robert Lindsay.   He has starred in the West End in “Me and My Girl”.

IMDB entry:

Karl is a very talented actor, who will be most remembered for playing “Jacko”, in the brilliant comedy series, Brush Strokes (1986). Jacko was a painter and decorator, and very much a “Jack the lad”. In this hugely entertaining series, Karl played a ladies’ man, who never has any intention of settling down. Karl has also starred in Babes in the Wood(1998), Bad Boys (1995), and Mulberry (1992), and had guest roles in programmes such as The Bill (1984).

– IMDb Mini Biography By: Colin Peppiatt (colinpeppiatt@hotmail.co

Herbert Marshall
Herbert Marshall
Herbert Marshall
Herbert Marshall
Herbert Marshall

Herbert Marshall was a British actor who had an amazingly long career in Hollywood movies from the late 1920’s until the late 1960’s.   He was born in London in 1890.   He was a soldier in World War One and lost a leg in combat.   He was leading man to some of the major actresses of their time, including Great Garbo, Bette Davis, Miriam Hopkins and Joan Crawford.   He was especially terrific in “The Little Foxes” in 1941.   His last movie was “The Third Day” in 1965 with George Peppard and Elizabeth Ashley.

TCM overview:Urbane mature, British leading man whose good looks and finely modulated voice made him an ideal romantic lead. Marshall starred opposite such stars as Marlene Dietrich, in “Blonde Venus” (1932), and Greta Garbo, in “The Painted Veil” (1934), as well as in two Hitchcock films, “Murder” (1930) and “Foreign Correspondent” (1940). He proved an able opponent-husband to Bette Davis in “The Letter” (1940) and “The Little Foxes” (1941), both directed by William Wyler, and displayed a delightful flair for comedy in Ernst Lubitsch’s brilliant “Trouble in Paradise” (1932). The son of actors Percy F. Marshall and Ethel May Turner, he was married to actresses Edna Best (1928-1940) and Boots Mallory. Marshall lost a leg during WWI and his wooden replacement limb was known to trouble him considerably through the years.

Charlie Drake
Charlie Drake
Charlie Drake

Charlie Drake was a very popular English comedian who had a TV following before a cinema career opened up for him.   He was born in 1925 in Elephant and Castle, South London.   His first TV series was “Laughter in Store”.   His starred in four movies “Sands of the Desert” in 1960, “Petticoat Pirates” with Anne Heywood, “The Cracksman” with George Sanders and Nyree Dawn Porter and “Mister Ten Percent” in 1967.   He died in 2006.

Denis Gifford’s “Independent” obituary:

Charlie Drake’s first joke – “A little boy had a tooth out and asked the dentist if he could keep it. Why? I want to take it home, put some sugar on it and watch it ache!”

Actually it wasn’t Charlie Drake’s joke, it was Max Miller’s. He heard it on the wireless. And he wasn’t Charlie Drake, anyway. He was Charles Edward Springall, age nine. Drake came much later, borrowed from his mother, the former Violet Drake. Like many comedians, if not all of them, Charlie Drake began with jokes borrowed from others, but once his real career in comedy got under way via television, he became the most original slapstick comedian in the country, easily out- slapping those few who had attempted visual comedy in the silent film era.

Born in Elephant and Castle, London, in 1925, the son of a newspaper seller who took racing bets on the quiet, little Charlie was only eight when he answered an advertisement in the South London Press and was first in the queue to audition for the great top-of-the-bill coster comedian Harry Champion. He sang that master’s most popular hit, “Boiled Beef and Carrots”, and promptly won a place in the choirboy chorus backing the star in his grand finale, “Any Old Iron” (pronounced “I-hern”). His reward: a six-day booking for half a crown (12 1/2p).

No further bookings ensued, so young Charlie augmented his non-existent pocket money doing a pre-school paper round and a post-school apprenticeship to a cats-meat man (tuppence a stick-ful). His education was at the Victory Place Junior School where the only prize he won was for Scripture: he was able to name Mary’s husband. Moving up to Paragon Row Seniors he read the “Just William” books and formed a William-style Secret Society called the Red Hand Gang. Show business struck again when he did a deal with the manager of the Elephant and Castle Picture Palace: in return for winning the ten-shilling (50p) prize at every amateur talent contest, he slipped the manager five bob (25p).

Drake was 14 when he left school, in the summer of 1939; he also left home. He became an electrician’s mate, the first of innumerable jobs, all of which would find their way into his television and later film situations. By night he was an Air Raid Precautions messenger boy. He devised his own way to extinguish incendiary bombs: old ladies’ knickers stuffed with sand. Then he joined the Naafi as a baker. His fruit cakes were famous until he was sacked for using too many rationed currants.

He tried for proper war service and was instantly rejected by the Navy. He was only 5 feet 1 1/2 inches tall. “I was raised on condensed milk,” he explained. He volunteered for the Royal Air Force and was, surprisingly, taken on and trained as a rear gunner. “I was the right size for the little turret.” He promptly put in for all the services shows he could – Ralph Reader’s “RAF Gang Show,” Ensa, “Airmen in Skirts” – and was rejected by them all. But one useful thing happened: while training in Northern Ireland he met an oversize pilot named Jack Edwardes, who would in time become Drake’s first partner on television. Drake’s main active service was in India, where he caught dysentery and became the only airman who needed to have his shorts shortened.

On demob Drake formed his first double act with a friend called Sidney Cant. They sang “She’s Only a Bird in a Gilded Cage” at the King’s Arms pub at the Elephant. Unable to afford the tram fare, Drake walked up West every night to watch the big star comedians leaving their stage doors.

After failing his first BBC audition for Workers Playtime – he did his half-hour act in the wrong studio so the producer never saw him – he changed his name to Charlie Smart and won a provincial variety tour opening the show wearing a white trilby and a brown-and-red check suit. His first broadcast came from this, and he sat up all night writing 200 fan letters under 200 assumed names, posting them to Broadcasting House. They all came back to him unopened.

Somebody told him that Charlie Smart was the name of a popular broadcasting organist, so once again he changed his name. This time he came up with a permanent winner, Charlie Drake. Unfortunately it didn’t help his career: he failed to pass his first audition at the Windmill Theatre – and failed a further six times. He found steadier work in the summer of 1953 as a Butlin’s Redcoat. He taught campers ju-jitsu and boxing, he called bingo, he clowned for the kiddies, and he stole £60 a week from the bingo take. At the end of the season Billy Butlin himself sacked him, and said he knew all along about the thefts, but had kept him on as his one and only ju-jitsu coach.

Deciding to try his luck with an agent, Drake now joined Phyllis Rounce, and at her office re-encountered Jack Edwardes, also looking for comedy work. His 6ft 3in height – 1ft 1 1/2in taller than the diminutive Drake – looked funny before they even started, and Rounce immediately got them a date at the Stage Door Canteen. They did a table tennis act which made the services audience roar. Several guest spots on BBC Children’s Television followed; the comic career of Charlie Drake was under way.

Michael Westmore, head of BBC Children’s TV, absconded to the newly formed ITV for London, Associated-Rediffusion, and took with him Drake and Edwardes. Drake was to devise and script an afternoon series for the double act. He called their characters “Big Jack and Little Mack”, but Westmore renamed them “Mick and Montmorency”.

The show was christened Jobstoppers and started on 30 September 1955. Every week the slap-happy pair tried their hands at a different job, and each week the show began with “Hello, my darlin’s!” and concluded with the cry of “It’s teeee-time!” Within weeks Drake had created two new national catch-phrases, among the young viewers at any rate. And to crown his success, TV Fun, the small screen’s answer to Radio Fun, starred them in a full-page strip drawn by the comic’s best cartoonist, Reg Parlett.

Ronnie Waldman, formerly the king of radio’s “Puzzle Corner”, now head of Light Entertainment at BBC Television, sat up and took notice. He offered Drake a one-off try-out in grown-up time and the half-hour Laughter in Store (3 January 1957) was such a slap-bang success that a full-blown series of six started on 6 May. Satisfyingly entitled Drake’s Progress (he would later use it as the title of his 1986 autobiography), the show was devised and co-written with him by the very professional George Wadmore, and was given the excellent supporting cast of Irene Handl, Warren Mitchell and the rotund Willoughby Goddard. Sadly the tall stalwart Jack Edwardes was nowhere to be seen. That particular partnership had been suddenly dissolved.

This was the first sign of what most people would call a basic flaw in Drake’s character, a supreme ego that put himself first in everything he did. It was once common among the great comedians (Charlie Chaplin, for example) but it takes more than supreme self-confidence to win in this age of television. No sooner had Drake been granted a second series of Progress, and been awarded a fresh team of writers in Sid Green and Dick Hills (who would prove their worth in scripting for Morecambe and Wise), than he demanded a showdown with Ronnie Waldman, the sacking of Green and Hills, and the right to be solo scripter of his own series. Drake won.

Drake’s television career now shot ahead in series after series, each show centralising on a classic slapstick sequence which, as was typical of the time, was performed live. For 10 years the title of the show was, simply, Charlie Drake, except for a brief sojourn at ATV in 1963 when it was called The Charlie Drake Show. The formula was always the same, with Drake trying his hand as an overalled workman in a different job each week. The slapstick climax would never be bettered until pre- filming became possible for Michael Crawford’s Some Mothers Do Have ‘Em, the only series comparable.

The climax to all this slapstickery came in 1961 with “Bingo Madness”, an episode which closed with Drake thrown through a bookcase, then out of a window, and crashing through a door. The camera panned down: there was Drake unconscious on the floor. Rushed to hospital, he was in a coma for days. The series was cancelled and Drake missed his first invited appearance at the Royal Variety Show. All would end well; in time he would star in no fewer than nine royal shows. And, when colour television arrived on BBC2 in 1968, his series would win the Golden Rose of Montreux.

Television led to many a stage show and pantomime. His first was as the King of Tyrolia in Sleeping Beauty at the Palladium. Co-stars were Bruce Forsyth and Bernard “I Only Arsked” Bresslaw. In the No 1 dressing room for the first time in his life, Drake complained and demanded that it be redecorated. It was; that was 1958. Much later, in 1974, another panto would be his big downfall. This was Jack and the Beanstalk at the Alhambra, Bradford. Drake wanted a local girl in the cast. The actors’ union Equity objected. The management paid her to leave. Equity fined Drake £760. He refused to pay, was suspended, banned from all provincial theatres, and found himself out of work for a year.

Drake was luckier in films. Associated British signed him up for several Technicolor extravaganzas. First came Sands of the Desert (1960) directed by the comedy specialist John Paddy Carstairs. A pretty newcomer, Sarah Branch, co-starred with a bunch of British “foreigners”: Peter Arne, Peter Illing, Harold Kasket, Eric Pohlmann, and many more. Drake was the travel agent who thwarted the wicked sheikh and opened a holiday camp in the desert.

Then came Petticoat Pirates (1961) directed by David Macdonald, who once did more serious stuff. Drake, playing under his own name, was a stoker whose ship is taken over by a group of renegade women led by Anne Heywood (ex Violet Pretty). The Cracksman (1963) came next, made in CinemaScope. Peter Graham Scott directed Drake as a jailed locksmith stealing gems from a museum. George Sanders, surprisingly, co-starred, with the TV favourite Nyree Dawn Porter as the girl. Mister Ten Per Cent (1967) was the last Drake feature proper, with Scott directing again and some pretty ladies: Annette Andre, Una Stubbs and Joyce Blair to name a few. Drake played Percy Pointer, a builder who writes a dramatic play that succeeds as a comedy.

His last films were a series for the Children’s Film Foundation entitled Professor Popper’s Problems (1975), directed by Gerry O’Hara. This set of six shorts was the only time he did not write or co-write the screenplays. The main plot point was that he invented the shrinking pill.

After several very big successes with records, most notably the hilarious “My Boomerang Won’t Come Back” (produced by the brilliant George Martin), Drake’s best ever television series came in 1978. This was ATV’s The Worker with Drake back in his old character of the willing but useless handyman who will try anything and fail at everything. He sang the signature song, which was based on the music-hall queen Lily Morris’s long-lost hit “He’s Only a Working Man”. Lew Schwartz wrote, Alan Tarrant directed, and Henry McGee played the manager of the Labour Exchange, Mr Pugh (“pronounced Poo!”). McGee, a brilliant comic actor, was later acclaimed by Drake as his “closest and dearest friend”.

Suddenly Drake turned away from slapstick and comedy. He played Smallweed in the BBC TV serialisation of Charles Dickens’s Bleak House (1985). He played Ubu Roi in Spike Milligan’s variation of Alfred Jarry’s play, directed by Charles Jarowitz. He was in Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment (1988), and in Samuel Beckett’s Endgame (1992) he was Nagg. He even won a Drama Award for his role as Davies in Harold Pinter’s The Caretaker (1983).

Drake’s extraordinary career was recognised rather too early by Eamonn Andrews in This Is Your Life back in 1961. The extremes of his personality are perhaps best shown in two opposing quotes. When he won the Golden Rose of Montreux he said, “I was voted the funniest man in the world.” When he appeared as a guest in the panel game Looks Familiar he said, “I am the only person never to recognise Shirley Temple.”

Denis Gifford

* Denis Gifford died 20 May 2000

The above “Independent” obituary can also be accessed online here.

Lynn Farleigh
Lynn Farleigh
Lynn Farleigh

Lynn Farleigh was born in 1942 in Bristol.   She featured in two very popular TV series “Bill Brand” in 1976 and “Wycliffe”in 1996.   Her movies include “The Ice House” in 1997 and “Blind Flight” in 2003.

IMDB entry:

Lynn Farleigh was born on May 3, 1942 in Bath, Somerset, England as Marilyn J. Farleigh. She is an actress, known for Watership Down (1978), Miss Potter (2006) and FairyTale: A True Story (1997). She is married to John Woodvine. She was previously married toMichael Jayston and David Yip.

All three of her husbands – Michael JaystonDavid Yip and John Woodvine – made guest appearances in Doctor Who (1963).
Mother of Joe (b. 1972) and Matthew Turner (b. 1973) from her relationship with Keith Turner.
Daughter of Joseph Sydney (1896-1978) and Marjorie Norah (née Clark) Farleigh (1901-1979).
Bruce Robinson
Bruce Robinson
Bruce Robinson
Bruce Robinson
Bruce Robinson
Bruce Robinson
Bruce Robinson

Bruce Robinson wasborn in London in 1946.   He is best known as the director of the cult movie “Withnail and I” in 1986.   Previously he had featured in such movies as Franco Zefferelli’s “Romeo and |Juliet” in 1968 and “The Story of Adele H” opposite Isabelle Adjani.

TCM overview:

Robinson was chosen to appear as Benvolio in Franco Zeffirelli’s “Romeo and Juliet” during his third year of drama school and acted in several films–notably “The Story of Adele H.” (1975), as Lieutenant Pinson–before giving up performing in 1975 to concentrate on writing.

It took ten years and 20 screenplays before Robinson’s work reached the screen, in the shape of the Oscar-winning “The Killing Fields” (1984), directed by Roland Joffe. Robinson parlayed the success of “Fields” into his first directing assignment, the critically acclaimed, semi-autobiographical “Withnail and I” (1987). A laconic study of two “resting” actors set in the late 1960s, the film demonstrated Robinson’s wry sense of humor, keen powers of social observation and ability to coax fine performances from his actors, Paul McGann and Richard E. Grant. Grant also starred in Robinson’s “How to Get Ahead in Advertising” (1988), a blazing satire in which a boil on an ad exec’s neck develops a life of its own and begins to spout apocalyptic right-wing ideology. Despite moments of brilliant high farce, the film failed to draw as wide an audience as “Withnail”.

Critical response to “Jennifer 8” (1992), a serial killer-thriller starring Andy Garcia and Uma Thurman, was generally poor, though some claimed the film’s flaws were the result of excessive studio intervention during the making of the film.

The above TCM overview can also be accessed online here.