Richard Eyre 

Helen McCrory remembered: ‘She had a brightness about her. She was a star’

Richard Eyre, the National Theatre director who cast the actor in some of her earliest roles, pays tribute to her after her death
  
  

Helen McCrory, who died on 16 April 2021.
Helen McCrory. ‘The trumpets will have sounded for her on the other side.’ Photograph: Antonio Olmos/The Observer

Part of the tragedy of Helen McCrory dying at such a young age, leaving a husband and two young children, is that professionally she had everything to look forward to. She had established herself as a very considerable actor in the theatre and on film and television.

She had a brightness about her, a luminosity: she was, in short, a star. She lit up a stage or a screen – you knew you were in the presence of a force of character and talent.

When I was running the National Theatre in the 1990s we cast her in a play about the theatre called Trelawny of the Wells – part comedy, part melodrama.

She played the part of a young actress who married a dull man, whose family found her behaviour too extravagant: she left him to return to the theatre.

In some ways this was essential Helen. She was shortly out of drama school, strong-willed, hugely gifted, and she took possession of the Olivier auditorium – a giant cauldron that requires great heat to bring to the boil. I can still remember her call in the play to her fellow actors: “Boys!” she said, with a voice that cracked like Judi Dench’s and touched the heart of everyone in the audience and mine especially. I adored her.

Helen triumphed in the theatre – among many remarkable appearances, a performance as Hester Collyer in Rattigan’s The Deep Blue Sea that suggested that the part might have been written for her – and she excelled on film, endowing the character of Cherie Blair [in The Queen] with her own wit and generosity.

Apart from her elegance and grace and skill, she had an entirely endearing brassiness, by which I mean the glitter of a fine brass player rather more than the flash of a mouthy barmaid. She was open and honest and a great leveller: direct and true. I’m sure that, as John Bunyan said, she will have passed over and all the trumpets will have sounded for her on the other side.

I think Helen was philosophical about her death. It’s possible she could have shown us how not to be angry and upset that such a malign fate has deprived us of her company and her talent at such an early age. She was a comet who blazed very brightly and brightened everyone and everything that she encountered.

 

Leave a Comment

Required fields are marked *

*

*