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Remembering Geraldine


The death of Geraldine McEwan the other day brought back memories of the first time I saw her on stage. I was still a teenager, making my first trip to London on my own and seeing as many plays and operas as I could within the space of a week and eating in as many interesting restaurants as I could afford. 

The Stage Door Grill, a Turkish establishment  in Wardour Street, off Leicester Square, quickly  became my favourite. From there it was an easy walk to the Comedy Theatre, where Geraldine McEwan, still a novice,  was appearing in Arthur Watkyn’s  For Better For Worse with Leslie Phillips. I had never heard of her and I cannot remember why this play attracted my attention but, on my second-last night, along I went. 

Not only was the play, about a pair of newly-weds, extremely funny, but McEwan, with her grainy voice, was so enchanting that I returned the following night to see her again, giving up an opportunity for something more elevating at Covent Garden. 

Though I cannot say I saw her in many other stage plays, apart from The Entertainer with Olivier,  I began to look out for her on television, where she frequently appeared, not only as Muriel Spark’s Miss Jean Brodie (a role in which I thought her superior to Maggie Smith) but as a quirky exponent of Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple. No less memorable in recent years was her portrayal of Jeanette Winterson’s mother in Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit.  Sadly, I never saw her in Shakespeare, in which she was said to have excelled.


2 February 2015

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