Gillian Armstrong remembers Sam Neill: ‘I can’t believe that the very next day he was gone’

What can I say? I’m shocked and sad. He’d just been through the cancer treatments and was finally free . And bang! He’s gone. But what wonderful heartfelt tributes from everywhere. Yes, Sam was a great actor, in so many films, so many roles . Dashing, dry, evil, cheeky, damaged and very heroic. Even my grandson knows that man with the dinosaurs. I loved him having fun as that sly, handsome, grey-haired lawyer in The Twelve . Our real Sam? He was a little shy. And a smart, gentle, decent, passionate, loyal, surprisingly funny man. (Maybe not the best YouTube singer or pig-namer!) Good on Steven Spielberg for thanking Roger Donaldson, Graham Baker, Phillip Noyce and me for first casting Sam and showing him to the world. I couldn’t have been more proud of Sam’s performance in our little film , the unexpected power of its international release at Cannes and his subsequent stardom. We were all so young and naive. It was obvious from day one that the camera just loved him. And I still love him in our film, especially the pillow fight that he and Judy improvised in rehearsals – so well that we made it longer. I only asked Sam quite recently why he didn’t come to Cannes with us. Guess what: he had a small role in the TV show The Sullivans , so he couldn’t make it to that iconic French red carpet. But he stood on many, many red carpets after that, with many well-deserved awards and incredible co-stars. Judy Davis with Neill in My Brilliant Career. Photograph: David Kynoch/Margaret Fink/NFSA Sam and I rewatched My Brilliant Career together about eight years ago at a screening of the National Film and Sound Archive’s restored print in Launceston. I said: “What are you doing coming all the way here?” And discovered he was putting on a Two Paddocks tasting at a special Launceston wine store. He thought it would be good to kill two birds. (I did go to the event and heard his very erudite wine speech.) Sam watched the film with the packed house and was great afterwards with the enthused audience, sending himself up. Including his belief that Sybylla definitely shouldn’t have married Harry, he truly was a bit of a wet blanket! Later that evening we watched the 2019 Australian election coverage together in his room. He was so proud of the lovely Laura Tingle , he kept sneaking her texts and talking to the TV, directing her to look up more! In the New York Times’ excellent piece on Sam I read a quote that would have really made him laugh, taken from Carrie Rickey’s 2019 essay on My Brilliant Career for the Criterion Collection : “I found Neill particularly attractive, and he is lovingly and lingeringly shot in this film. In other words, like the girl in most movies. In retrospect, I realize this was an early experience for me of seeing a male lust object through the eyes of a female director.” There you go, Sam. I unconsciously made you a LUST object! My lust object was always incredibly loyal and generous to the film and to me, recognising it as the kickstart to his beginnings. He sent me a couple of his pieces on the making of My Brilliant Career to check over while he was writing his funny and moving memoir . In Sam’s joker style, he initially called me on FaceTime and I was shocked to see this strange person with a completely bald head and laughing face. But I recognised that chuckle straight away. At that point none of us knew he had cancer. Good on him for using that impetus to write that memoir. It was a well-deserved hit. The day before he died I came across a rerun of his episode of The Assembly when he was interviewed by autistic students. One of them asked: “What have you learned from your parents?” Sam paused for a very long time and teared up, then tried to be kind about his parents’ lives. I teared up too. I could see little Nigel (his birth name) standing alone on the train platform on his way to boarding school. I can’t believe that the very next day he was gone. Now I am really tearing up. He will be missed by so many. Best wishes and love to all his family. We finally cracked open the 1998 Neill pinot noir last night and made a toast. Thank you for being our Harry, and our Sam.