\u2018A gorgeous man and a wonderful actor\u2019<\/p>\n
Lindsay Duncan, co-star, Reilly, Ace of Spies (1983) and Blackbird (2019)<\/p>\n
I worked with Sam on Reilly when I was young and shy and even though I was pinned over a desk by him in one scene, I didn\u2019t really make the most of the experience. Then a few years ago we did a film called Blackbird, directed by Roger Michell, with an amazing bunch of actors and we all became close. Sam was a gorgeous man. He was a wonderful actor. He was warm and funny. He listened when you talked. He made wine and he shared it. What more do you want from a guy?<\/p>\n
When Sam was going through a particularly hard phase of treatment, the
Blackbird group decided he needed cheering up. After much deep thought from us all and the exchange of many hilarious images, Mia Wasikowska commissioned a cake from a friend of hers which was a pig and a sheep involved in an intimate act, with a bottle of Two Paddocks next to them, on its side. Just a few of the things he loved, in one cake. We all have tattoos of a little Blackbird, so that will go with him.<\/p>\n
Sam Neill and Lindsay Duncan in Reilly: Ace of Spies. Photograph: Fremantle Media\/Shutterstock\u2018He wasn\u2019t tarnished by cardinal ambition\u2019<\/p>\n
Charles Dance, co-star, Plenty (1985), To the Ends of the Earth (2005) and And Then There Were None (2015)<\/p>\n
In an industry that\u2019s full of quite dubious people, Sam was one of the good guys. He was a wonderful, unfussy actor with immense charm who was also incredibly handsome. I always got the impression he was really balanced. There must have been occasions when he was anxious and insecure and paranoid, but it wasn\u2019t ever apparent. He was just a very cool guy.<\/p>\n
Sam was always far more interested in the quality of his wine than in any awards for acting. When we wrapped filming on And Then There Were None, he gave us all some of the very, very good pinot noir from his winery, which he was very proud of. Between jobs, he would disappear back to New Zealand. He wasn\u2019t tarnished by that kind of cardinal ambition that is rife in our industry \u2013 but nor was he complacent. He just took life as it came.<\/p>\n
Sam Neill and Charles Dance with fellow cast members in And Then There Were None. Photograph: BBC\/Allstar<\/p>\n
When he was diagnosed with cancer, and led to believe he might only have six months, I sent him an email saying: \u201cGood luck, Sam, come on, you can get through this.\u201d He wrote back saying: \u201cGreat to hear from you mate!\u201d With him, what you saw was what you got. I think that was one of the reasons he inspired so much affection. <\/p>\n
In this business, all of us \u2013 however much we\u2019d deny it \u2013 have public and private faces. Sam had the same face in both places. I really wish I\u2019d spent more time with him, because that little time I did spend with him was so rewarding.<\/p>\n
\u2018He was fascinated by the cytotoxic venom of the puff adder\u2019<\/p>\n
Peter Webber, director, Tutankhamun (2016)<\/p>\n
I first wanted to cast Sam because of the magnificently creepy Andrzej \u017bu\u0142awski movie Possession<\/a>, in which he starred opposite Isabelle Adjani. That performance \u2013 strangely operatic and exaggerated yet deeply troubling, obsessive, damaged \u2013 stayed with me for years. I finally got to work with him on a television series in South Africa, and I spent the rest of the shoot badgering him for anecdotes between takes. He had a fine sense of comedy and although he was a complicated man, he wasn\u2019t grand or starry. No ego on set. No fuss. Just the work. And a wicked sense of humour.<\/p>\n