“Melancholy men, of all others, are the most witty,” said Aristotle, in an observation that will resonate with anyone who spent time with Maggie Smith.
At the turn of the century, I wrote a play, The Breath of Life, in which Maggie appeared opposite Judi Dench. One night at the Theatre Royal Haymarket, Hillary Clinton came with Madeleine Albright. They were both seated on time, but Bill Clinton and Chelsea, delayed by traffic, joined them in the middle of first act. Next day, I was eager to find out what the Clintons had been like. Judi had received them in her dressing room and been swept away by their charm. When I went to ask Maggie what she thought of them, she said she had refused to meet them. “Do you think I’m going to shake hands with anyone who’s late for your play?”
