To most people born in the last three decades, Maggie Smith has become a familiar figure as Minerva McGonagall, professor of transfiguration and deputy headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Harry Potter movie. That stern but kind witch dispensed both imperious commands and compassionate advice in a cropped tartan brogue from beneath her pointed black hat.
Others may have met her as Violet Crawley, the tart-tongued Dowager Countess of Grantham in Downton Abbeywhose advanced age and creeping infirmity did nothing to diminish his authority in the Old World – “I wouldn't know, I'm not familiar with the sensation,” he once remarked, on the foreign concept of being wrong – or his precision in landing a sharp criticism.
Smith died today in London, aged 89, and those who know her only for those two signature roles would do well to sample the many gems elsewhere in her seven-decade filmography.
For many of us who had savored for years Smith's priceless offering of the driest quips and most delightful one-liners, the broader 21st century discovery of his formidable screen persona through those characters brought the satisfaction that young people had finally achieved.
Smith had already made a splash in the 1960s with roles in The VIPs, The pumpkin eater and the film version of the National Theatre's version Othellostarring alongside Laurence Olivier and earning her first Oscar nomination as Desdemona. But it was the 1969 release of Miss Jean Brodie's firstwhich earned her the Oscar for Best Actress, which really put her on the map.
That starring role – that of a free-thinking teacher at an Edinburgh girls' school, unapologetic in her favoritism towards students she considers special enough to benefit from her social, cultural and political sculpture – forged a model which defined the actress without ever confining her. .
When a student enthusiastically expounds on her successes as a girl guide, Miss Brodie interrupts: “For those who like this kind of thing, this is the kind of thing they like.” Another student's rolled-up sleeves distract the teacher from a poignant monologue about love and war, prompting her to bark indignantly, “Are you thinking about doing laundry for a day?”
Smith somehow brought together haughtiness, erudition, a penchant for romantic reverie and a subtle camp streak into one character. It makes for a deceptively entertaining film for a drama about a protagonist whose passionate calling to teach is challenged by the betrayal of her favorite student, exposing her as a dangerously radical influence on impressionable young women.
Smith's unsurpassed command of acerbic dialogue made her a favorite of gay men, an iconic status further cemented when she played the eccentric Augusta Bertram in George Cukor's film based on Graham Greene's novel. Travel with my aunt. Wandering around Europe in an endless array of gorgeous ensembles by costume designer Anthony Powell, she became the glamorous relative of our dreams, none other than Rosalind Russell in Aunt Mame.
Augusta was a role that was almost twice Smith's age. A striking woman, she always seemed too gifted with worldliness and wisdom to appear truly young, much like her contemporary Angela Lansbury.
Smith's expertly timed delivery was put to good use in two Agatha Christie adaptations: Death on the Nilein which she trades bitchy banter with Bette Davis as the nurse and traveling companion of the latter's wealthy American socialite; AND Evil under the sunas a former actress who now runs a hotel on an Adriatic island, throwing verbal darts at a former fellow theater artist played by Diana Rigg.
The first of two films Smith made with screenplays by zinger specialist Neil Simon was Fatal assassinationa mystery spoof that collected thinly veiled parodies of famous fictional detectives for a weekend of murder in a remote mansion.
Smith teamed with David Niven to play the sophisticated Dick and Dora Charleson, based on Nick and Nora Charles from the Dashiell Hammett film Thin man series. When Dickie whispers to his wife about the use to which a missing naked corpse might be put, Dora's disapproving words don't even try to mask her excitement: “Oh, that's in bad taste. It's really tacky. That balance of decorum and mischief was classic Smith.
His second vehicle for Simon was the comedy anthology Californian suite. She was Diana Barrie, a seasoned British actress vying for her first Oscar and looking to her increasingly prying gay husband, played by Michael Caine, to calm her nerves and soothe her disappointment when she inevitably loses.
“It's bizarre,” Diana says on the flight from London. “Eight years at the National Theatre, two Pinters, nine Shakespeares, three Shaws and finally I get nominated for a sickening little comedy.” The character might have had no chance of winning, but the performance earned Smith her second Oscar, this time for Best Supporting Actress.
Among Smith's 1980s output, Clash of the Titansin which she played the sea goddess Thetis, remains an inadvertently campy guilty pleasure. But she gained new admirers as Charlotte Bartlett, the prim and protective chaperone of Helena Bonham Carter's Lucy Honeychurch in A room with a viewJames Ivory's adaptation of E.M. Forster's novel. That arthouse success kicked off a wave of films about buttoned-up Englishmen abandoning their rigidity in Tuscany.
My favorite from that period is Malcolm Mowbray's hilarious dark comedy A private function. Smith played Joyce Chilvers, a small-town social climber in post-war northern England, whose longing to be accepted by the local elite is not helped by her dim-witted mother or her podiatrist husband Gilbert, played by Michael Palin. When Joyce's plan – which includes stealing a pig to be served at a dinner honoring the royal wedding – finally bears fruit, she brightly announces, “Well, Gilbert, I think sexual intercourse is in order.”
That film marked Smith's first collaboration with playwright and screenwriter Alan Bennett, who would later write parts for her in Talking headsher brilliant 1988 series of television monologues, playing the alcoholic wife of a vicar; AND The lady in the vanhis 1999 play based on his experiences with an elderly woman who lived in a dilapidated vehicle parked in her driveway for 15 years. It was later adapted as a film, with Smith once again bringing his trademark grandiosity to the irritable, unsanitary character without obscuring his vulnerability.
Living in London for much of the '80s and early '90s, I was lucky enough to see Smith on stage a handful of times. The first was Millament, a woman who takes a tortuous path to the altar in William Congreve's Restoration play, The way of the world.
Then there was Peter Shaffer's very English comedy Lettice and lovage. Smith played a tour guide to British stately homes, given to wild, unreal embellishments, alongside Margaret Tyzack as a Preservation Trust employee who eventually becomes his partner in the crusade against ugly modern architecture. The production transferred to Broadway, winning Smith a Tony Award for Best Actress.
My third time was in Oscar Wilde's satire of Victorian society, The importance of being serious. As the formidable Lady Bracknell, Smith moved away from her usual biting indignation to offer the classic line, “A bag?” in a horrified whisper.
Smith's career highlights in the 1990s include Sister Actas the disapproving Mother Superior who becomes an unlikely ally to Whoopi Goldberg's Reno lounge singer as she is sheltered in a convent by her mobster boyfriend.
Smith was perfect in a small role The First Wives Club as the fabulously named, fabulously wealthy New York multi-divorcee Gunilla Garson Goldberg, who sabotages the upward social trajectory of Sarah Jessica Parker's careerist Shelly. Smith's ability to make the most of a throwaway line with simple intonation is on full display when he greets Goldie Hawn's Elise, an aging Hollywood actress fresh from touch-ups, at the funeral of a mutual friend: “What a tragedy …And your lips!”
Proving she can bring heat as easily as she bites, Smith was adorable in Agnieszka Holland's stunning film version of The secret garden. And along with her famous co-stars Joan Plowright, Judi Dench and Cher, she brought brilliance to Franco Zeffirelli's old-fashioned drama about expatriates in pre-war Tuscany. Tea With Mussolini.
The highlight of Smith's cinematic work in the 2000s, along with Harry Potter film, was Robert Altman's masterful murder mystery about the upstairs and downstairs murders of an English country house, Gosford Park. As Constance, another dowager countess, she memorably reassures a visiting American director worried about ruining the plot of his latest film: “Oh, but none of us will see it.”
That film laid the foundation for the development of screenwriter Julian Fellowes Downton Abbeywith a plum role for Smith that she says has made her a recognizable public figure after years of going unnoticed. It also won her three Emmys.
Smith scored another big hit in 2011 with The best exotic hotel in Marigoldwhich teamed her with Dench, Penelope Wilton, Bill Nighy, Tom Wilkinson and Dev Patel and generated a smaller but still financially successful following. I happened to call my parents when they were planning a trip to the movies to see the first episode, and when I asked my forgetful father what they were seeing, he said, “I don't remember what it's called but it has Judi Dench.” and Maggie Smith, so it doesn't matter. Their names were all the stamp of approval many people required.
While you really can't go wrong with almost any of the films mentioned here to appreciate Smith in all his glory, I highly recommend Roger Michell's. Tea with the Ladies.
In that endearing and loving 2018 doc, Smith joins Dench and Eileen Atkins on one of their annual visits to Plowright at his cottage near Brighton. The four old friends share memories and anecdotes about their lives, careers and ex-husbands, including Plowright's late spouse Olivier, a conspicuous ghost who mentored them all during his tenure as artistic director of the National Theatre. Listening to these titans of their artisan fare over champagne and, of course, tea, is irresistible. How sad that Smith's departure reduces the venerable quartet to a trio.