By the time I met Sam
He had already assumed a kind of mythic status in our household,
playing Reilly on Ace of Spies.
My stepfather was his boss.
11 years on and I get to work with him,
Playing Norman Lindsay (wryly).
He was
Electric-minded
Some fantastic mischief lurking just around the grin
The twinkle of his eye
An astronomical scintillation
No time for Acting
Too busy Being.
Present
(Before I knew what present even was)
There for the other actor
Made it seem so simple
Really asked the question
He could conjure anything
Puckish
Fitzgerald in Sirens. Photograph: Album/Alamy
So blessed to have had that time
The proximity
With the hope that something
Might rub off
Yes
His softly softly take
The first tasting of
Two Paddocks
Pinot noir
On a gentle evening
Chez lui
(Another case of his generosity)
The satisfying ritual of the swirling, the sniffing, the sipping,
The glass half-full
Raised
To the life fully lived
Fine unbuttoning of stories and some
Past glories
Never boastful
Never cruel
Only
A delight at the sharing
The wit and the wine
and the
Wrapping us all in his open embrace
Us, being a shimmer of sirens,
A bouquet of sheep shearers
And an exaltation of Hugh Grants.
(To be sure, the badinage that flowed on set was an art form in itself)
I’m looking at him now
Shooting his closeup for a scene in the garden,
Where the children
Watch a fairy show
Staged by the artist’s models.
His face flooded
With imagination,
With his own wonder,
His own childlike joy.
Elle Macpherson, Hugh Grant, Tara Fitzgerald and Sam Neill at the UK premiere of Sirens, 1994. Photograph: Alan Davidson/Shutterstock
Beautiful.
Complete.
So he walks ahead.
Through the weeping grass,
Towards the house
With the light on.
We follow in his wake.
PUCK
Sometime a horse I’ll be, sometime a hound,
A hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire;
And neigh and bark and grunt and roar and burn
Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire at every turn.