Pete Postlethwaite, with whom, sadly, I never worked, belonged to that group of journeymen actors who command the respect and admiration of their peers but are denied the wider honours until death claims them. How amazed he would have been by the enormous photograph that graced the front-pages of the newspapers — his unique, craggy face that had never known botox or cosmetic surgery, displaying more character than many of his more vaunted fellow thespians.
It is sometimes forgotten that an actor’s career is more often than not sculptured in snow and disappears so quickly when he or she is removed from public view, for it is an inescapable fact that for the majority who choose the profession there is little public recognition. But then, suddenly, an artist like this one proves the exception, reminding us that we can still recognise and applaud true quality. He was content to be judged by his work, not by his views on marriage, abortion, the cost of television licences or any other subjects which pass for instant wisdom by Z-list celebrities in some sections of the popular press. The most individual of actors, he used his sometimes grief-frozen face to rivet our attention with a rare, unvarnished honesty that reminded me of the late and now neglected star Eric Portman.
So, even though I was greatly saddened that his long battle against cancer had finally taken him from us, I thought what an object lesson he had been to all those hopefuls who follow the same unforgiving path towards recognition in our profession. Starting out with none of the usual advantages, he brought an uncompromising talent to every role he played, whether on stage or screen. From the moment he came into view, audiences knew they were not going to be cheated, that his work had an honesty few of his colleagues could emulate without resorting to tricks. He acted with much heart, as we say, telling it straight, giving a reality to every character he played without any apparent effort. That in itself is a sort of genius, the concealment of an art that has been honed to perfection.
It would be comforting to think that his example, his courage, will be carried forward beyond the deserved, eulogistic obituaries, as an object lesson to the next generation of drama students knocking at the door of fame; that they will realise it is not the pursuit of celebrity that matters but the ability of an actor to deliver the goods. That is what he did in spades.