Maggie Smith (1934-2024): a captivating actress on her distinctive journey
At the 42nd Academy Awards ceremony, Peter O’Toole was bested for the lead role in Bye Mr. Chips by the “one-eyed” John Wayne, who played Rooster Cogburn, in a moment of old-fashioned patriotism. It was the same night when the groundbreaking Midnight Cowboy claimed victory. Yet, another British schoolteacher from Edibro, Scotland, brimming with self-assured sensuality and delusions which she transformed into creative inspiration for her 12-year-old students, surpassed her young American rivals, Jane Fonda and Liza Minnelli. On that night in 1970, the world became acquainted with Maggie Smith. She played the role of the eccentric, stubborn, unconventional, impulsive, but devoted and hopeful spinster that Julie Andrews turned down for The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie.
At an Oscar viewing party, Shirley McClain was overheard remarking at the announcement of the winner: “Oh, the Academy members have finally voted with class!”
Maggie Smith, the youngest of three children in a middle-class Essex family, had embarked on her career about two decades prior. With two twin brothers who became architects, she dove headfirst into her craft as an exceptional talent. She played Viola in Twelfth Night for the Oxford Playhouse and excelled in numerous roles before testing her skills in a revue at Broadway in 1956.
Laurence Olivier quickly recognized her talent. After watching her in Peter Shaffer’s plays at the Old Vic, he invited her to become a permanent member of the National Theatre of England’s repertory. Here, he discovered in her an equal to his own talent – a rare find for a genius with a narcissistic streak.
Maggie Smith’s career transcends generations, largely due to her ability to continuously breathe life and intelligence into her characters. Regardless of their specific tone and background, or their brief or extended screen lives, Smith has made her mark on both sides of the Atlantic, on the big and small screen, particularly after her 70s.
In a conversation between the serious and humorous, Smith confessed during an interview with Graham Norton on the BBC that she was taken aback when Sir Lawrence delivered a real and potent slap on stage during a heated moment when Othello was expressing his frustration with Desdemona. This incident did not deter either of them from translating their stage success to the big screen the following year, 1965, garnering Oscar nominations for both.
Parallel to her intense theatrical work, the acclaimed British actress had already initiated her film career with the 1956 drama Child in the House. Just two years later, she earned the first of her 18 BAFTA nominations for Nowhere to Go.
Two years after her Oscar triumph for Jean Brody’s Second Youth – the Greek rendition, she once again found herself among the top five contenders for the Best Actress Oscar for her role in Graham Greene’s Travels with My Aunt. This came about after director George Cukor personally implored her to step into the shoes of his dear friend, Katherine Hepburn.
Smith, already renowned as a Shakespearean virtuoso and a formidable dramatic actress, revealed another facet of her talent – comedy. She demonstrated her comedic prowess in Invitation to Lunch from a Murderer Candidate (note her emphasis on “Dick,” the name of her husband, played by David Niven) and particularly in California Hotel. In this Neil Simon’s spine-tingling dramedy, she portrayed a middle-aged actress married to a flamboyantly gay antique dealer, played by Michael Caine. Remarkably, she became the first actress to clinch an Oscar (her second, this time for a supporting role) for playing an actress on the verge of a breakdown! Her comedic timing was impeccable, but it was her heartfelt plea to Caine – “Make love to me, and this time, really make love to me” – that revealed the depth of an old silent film star and the nuanced craft of a seasoned thespian. This rare combination always made her performances captivating.
In Michael “Monty Python” Palin’s Sexy Missionary and in Crazy Sisters, where she starred alongside Whoopi Goldberg as a nun oblivious to the humor, her comedic prowess provided much-needed relief.
She effortlessly portrayed a wealthy New Yorker in First Wives’ Club, a snooty socialite in A Private Function, held her own alongside Peter Ustinov’s Hercule Poirot in Crimes Under the Sun and Crime on the Nile, and became a pillar of the renaissance of British cinema with her roles in A Room with a View, The Quartet, and The Lonely Passion of Judith Hearne. The latter is a portrayal of desperation that, while not flashy, is utterly shocking.
Maggie Smith’s multi-generational career does not have clear lines of demarcation, simply because she never stopped seizing opportunities to imbue her characters with meaning and intelligence. Regardless of their background, their brief or extended screen time, and whether they were on the big or small screen, she shone, especially after turning 70.
She has become a national treasure in her own right for the English, and a beloved character actress for the entire world. Smith is an actress who promises to serve the role but not pander to the viewer, never resorting to extremes to impress. Instead, she rewards those who “pay attention”, those who notice the details and appreciate the depth that comes from a talent that is anything but stingy.
We were introduced to her as a dame, relished her performances as a mature woman and a witty middle-aged lady, and continue to admire her as an elderly woman. More spicy than beautiful, much like her contemporary and friend Judy Dench, she wielded a sharp wit that often teetered on the edge of misanthropy. Frequently masked as snobbery, her humor unmistakably revealed a deep disdain for stupidity and irrelevance, a sentiment those close to her can attest to.
Imagine a scene, currently gaining popularity on TikTok, from Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, the sequel to the delightful comedy. In it, she accompanies Dev Patel to an important meeting and loses her patience with a hapless waiter. She explains that tea is a herb that needs to be infused in boiling water, not served as lukewarm swill. She admonishes him with, “at my age, I don’t have time for that.” It’s not difficult to imagine this being her genuine reaction if pushed too far.
In this instance, she doesn’t hold back, using humor and a dry delivery to take a bite, emphasizing her point rather than watering it down, a trait that endeared her to many. Seated among a group of girlfriends, in the company of Dench and Joan Plowright, she confessed on camera that she only managed to get as many roles as Dame Judy hadn’t snapped up first! She was being truthful, and in another one of her rare admissions to the press, she pondered on what might happen if she adopted Dench’s affable charm when stepping out into the world from her front door. She knew, though, that her friends would dismiss this notion and no one would truly believe her.
During the TV adaptation of David Copperfield, she met a 10-year-old Daniel Radcliffe and introduced him to the producers of Harry Potter and J.K. Rowling, who couldn’t envision the adaptation without Maggie Smith in the cast. The rest, as they say, is history, not only for Radcliffe but also for Smith. Her portrayal of Minerva endeared her to young audiences, and Hogwarts became a springboard, catapulting her already legendary career into the realm of blockbusters. This was a trajectory she couldn’t have imagined during her early days in Hollywood, acting alongside Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton in the lackluster The VIPS.
“From a certain point, small people started coming up to me,” she said endearingly, recounting an incident where a little boy was staring at her. She tried to jog his memory on where he might know her from, to which he replied, slightly irritated, “Wait, it’ll come to me in a moment.”
She has yet to watch a single episode of Downton Abbey‘s six seasons (“I have the box set of DVDs,” she said cryptically) and despite reprising her role as the widowed countess that earned her three of her four Emmy awards in the lukewarm film adaptation, she was genuinely relieved when the TV series finally ended. “Who knows how old Violet would have been in the plot, close to 120,” she mused, quite rightly.
Appointed a Dame in 1990 and included in the exclusive circle of the Queen’s companions, alongside Dench and her good friend Ian McKellen, Maggie Smith arguably possesses the most resilient acting prowess among her extraordinary peers. Whether she was embodying a character, her mind shimmered and her voice rippled. The character would evolve subtly, through thoughts and pauses, a hesitant smile of approval, or a dismissive toss of the head. She was like a unique perfume that couldn’t be contained in a mass-produced bottle.
Time has left its mark on her, but it hasn’t dimmed her piercing gaze or dulled her rhetorical edge – her unique diction remains untouched. She battled both breast cancer and Graves’ disease, yet continued to work relentlessly, taking on small but brilliant roles or, as in Lady in the Van, playing a formidable, idiosyncratic character as raw and real as an uncut diamond. This character expertly combined stoicism with tragedy, artistically exploiting the signs of age visible in her physical appearance. Alan Bennett, drawing on his own experiences, wrote this role specifically for Smith, as did Shaffer for the play Lettice and Lovage. This West End and Broadway success won her a Tony Award.
It was said that this towering actress had a unique ability, a kind of theatrical synaesthesia, to hint at her character’s next move on stage, guiding the audience’s attention to an ensuing dilemma or action without uttering a word. It was a magical experience. I was fortunate enough to see her perform once, in David Hare’s Breath of Life, alongside Judy Dench.
I’m not sure about miracles, but watching the two of them, as the lover and wife of a man we never see, both betrayed and disillusioned beyond redemption, bitter yet resilient, intelligent and unyielding, share two lifetimes worth of experiences with such warmth and generosity was an uncanny experience. Smith controlled the stage, her every move loaded with memories and intentions. She exuded a confident belief in the power of her versatile character. Yes, there were moments when her eyes revealed something – not something tangible or visible, perhaps a possibility, a choice, or the fate of Madeleine Palmer, if only for that night in London. But something was always happening to her.
We will miss her terribly.
