David Warner was my very first actor role model. I saw him in 1965 at the Aldwych, the Royal Shakespeare Company’s London home, playing Hamlet in a production directed by Peter Hall. I had never seen the play in performance but I knew the script very well and had learned some of the speeches for auditions.
I had never conceived or imagined a performance like David’s. He was so human, so sensitive, yet impetuous. Even when speaking the speeches I knew by heart I felt he was improvising them, simply responding to his feelings and circumstances. I was dazzled as the production also included Brewster Mason and Tony Church.
That night I never even fantasised, for a moment, that one day I might be part of the same company. That was a dream beyond my current status. But, six months later I was in the Conference Hall rehearsal room at Stratford as the First Player, facing David Warner saying: “We’ll have a speech straight: come give us a taste of your quality; come, a passionate speech.”
I confess that it actually felt like a fantasy, from which any moment I would awake. I was being asked to give a Shakespeare speech to David Warner? Yes, forget about Hamlet, he didn’t matter. DW was the one I was compelled to impress. Somehow, I finished the speech, Tony Church as Polonius said something, then in silence David walked towards me, put his arm around my shoulders and said: “Tis well.” He had a beautiful smile on his face, and I was in bliss.
I never forgot that day and after the production entered the repertoire, at that moment, every night, David would respond in subtly different ways to what I had done. The learning I was absorbing then has kept me going for decades.
David was also always friendly and companionable – and modest, when one day he turned up on the set of Star Trek to play a starring guest role.
He will always be in my heart. I loved him.
