People forget and some people disappear without much of an online trace – but others leave a lasting mark by doing the right thing and forging connections across the divides.
I’ve been thinking long and hard about how to do justice to a man widely written about ‘left right and centre’ and whose legacy and presence as an actor extraordinaire, with versatility, presence, precision, and dedication to his art extended far beyond the screen; reflecting his corresponding engagement and similar qualities in his work and interactions also off-screen – as acknowledged by Kylie Walters who writes that [Sam Neill] was “a performer whose impact off-screen was just as profound as the legacy he leaves on it.”[1]
Recently [and finally!] back from New Zealand Aotearoa (the Land of the Long White Cloud – or is it, rather, the Land of the Wrong White Crowd?[2]), I likewise readily confess and profess that I am thankful for this opportunity to spontaneously and effortlessly let my thoughts do their own talking – and writing – in these speedy and earnest reflections. That is very much in line with Kiwi and Aussie style: no nonsense, no sweat, on task and to the point.
A Kiwi, more or less ‘through and through’, Sam Neill (1947-2026) was grounded in sympathy, empathy, and humanity, had his heart in the right place, and now joins the league of the late Dolly Parton in his innate ability to focus on what really mattered – and still does. Of Irish/ NZ background, Neill (aka, once ‘odious’ Nigel; a name he could never relate to – as stressed in his storytelling 2023 memoir that bears the unpretentious but all the more suggestive title Did I Ever Tell You This?) claimed to be “in the cheering-up business”[3].
He might have remained in that space in the eyes of his neighbours across the ‘Tasman ditch’ who celebrated his dedication to the ‘Great World of OZ’[4] and declared him an “honorary Aussie” in light of his generally ‘no-worries’ attitude to life (and death for that matter: “Very irritating, dying. But I’m not afraid of it.”[5]), his “charisma and character” – something he had in spades.[6]
Had it not been for the fact that Sam Neill was way more than ‘just’ about cheering-up.’ Thereby not saying the ‘cheering-up is not grounded in serious business but the man had depth and versatility and breadth to boot – professionally and as a human being (on a personal level).
Where do I begin when the tributes started flowing in two odd months ago? Perhaps the best approach is by noting everything that Sam Neill was not. He was NOT blindly swayed by social media and unnatural (non) interaction, he did not stoop to a level of male insensitivity against women or the female spirit that is the male and where we may all be, ultimately, rolled into one — or insensitivity against animals, for that matter. On the contrary, Animals, in many ways, took centre stage (as did Wine – an art in itself; “Two Paddocks” as straightforward a label as the man himself [7]).
Sam Neill did not not understand the value of steering away from the limelight when the time called for it, and which is when he sought peace and solace in the rustic sanctuary of his Kiwi farm. A home away from home and a thankful alternative to and retreat from a jet-setting lifestyle; home is always where the heart is.
It certainly was for Dolly Parton who (by the way) recognised her own – unquestionable – worth by toying with the idea of eternal ‘life’ through posthumous avatar performances (her sister now takes a stance against our era of [voluntary] misinformation as we face an AI tide and “‘garbage’ posts”) [8] and “whose life’s work … as a narrative” was a “beautiful, painful, poetic, melodic commentary of what it’s like to be human.”[9]
And in a radically different remote neck of the woods that is a whole different Country unto itself, home was likewise firmly established in the mind of remarkable, forever stoic, proud and resilient David Gulpilil – who was finally laid to rest in his native Arnhem Land. May his memory last forever.
Sam Neill, Dolly Parton, David Gulpilil – different and yet far away so close – they are forever interconnected through their humanitarian efforts and endeavours and in their advocacy for what is RIGHT. In the elastic space of who they were not lies the essence of who they were. In the case of Sam Neill, his life was one of conscious action and reaction and constant reminders of what it means to return to our core.
At home and at peace in a faraway utopia down under yet on top of the world [10] – one that captivates and grounds us and where our heart lands no matter how many foreign investors descend upon [assault] this veritable miracle on earth; including ‘Yankee doodles’ as they now flee their home turf [11] to seek solace in paradise (leading to soaring property prices) — Sam Neill’s kindness was his guiding star. Without listing his cinematic endeavours and massive successes (we already know and celebrate it all), suffice to say that Neill led by example. [12]
We might have momentarily learnt an existential lesson or two from COVID-19 — an experience that cut across genders, income brackets, status and social class — but it appears only a few years on we have lost our way as the world as we now know it comes across as more insensitive and chaotic than ever. That is where Sam Neill matters psychologically first and foremost — in his realisation of the bigger picture and what lies beyond fame.
As we study Sam Neill’s career (with Campion’s The Piano my personal all-time favourite; Michael Nyman’s evocative soundtrack as haunting and captivating as the enigmatic New Zealand landscape against which this unconventional narrative unfolds), our real learnings lie in discovering Sam Neill’s perspective on life, his inclusive and welcoming attitude to pretty much everything, and the wit with which he navigated complex times and managed to distinguish the light at the end of the tunnel. May we all be soulfully connected—to one another, to the creatures that inhabit this planet, and to The Land where our spirits may finally settle into peace.
To all my friends who brought me a candle in those dark, dark days. [13]
Tribute To Sam Neill: Skills, Grit And Determination, And Common Decency Quintessential Kiwi Style
Words: Dr Jytte Holmqvist
Image: Sam Neill – photo by Ross Coffey (courtesy of Text Publishing)
Footnotes:
[2] This is most definitely the case with the anti-Māori New Zealand Act Party whose misdemeanours threaten to throw the country back to regressive and ignorant colonial times: www.theguardian.com and www.rnz.co.nz (Do the Right Thing in the upcoming general elections: www.elections.nz/ )
[3] www.abc.net.au (etc, etc) and with reference to wine – and yet so much ‘more.’
[4] In the summative words of the ABC; it all started with Neill’s performance in My Brilliant Career (1979) which is when he “fell in love with Australia, calling it his second home for many decades. He even had two Australian Story episodes made about him. /…/ ‘I feel I’m more in debt to Australia than Australia is to me. That completely changed my life. And I found myself in Sydney, which was the most exciting place I’d ever seen. So many good filmmakers.’” www.abc.net.au
[5] Sam Neill “died ‘with the dignity that has characterised his whole life’”: www.abc.net.au
[6] ”Whether it was through his vast array of movie roles, getting us all through COVID-19 lockdowns with his quirky animal videos or simply his ‘crazy obsession’ with wine, this actor from across the ditch had so much charisma and character we claimed him as an ‘honorary Aussie’”: www.abc.net.au
[8] “She said there had been a tide of AI and ‘garbage’ posts, adding: ‘As time passes, those who are in the business of exploiting the loss and tragedies of others on a daily basis will move onto the next stampede of endless misinformation.’” www.bbc.com
[9] P!nk Inducts Dolly Parton into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame | 2022 Induction: www.youtube.com
[10] On Top Down Under. For a hilarious rundown in Aussie slang, watch the iconic Austen Tayshus aka Sandy Gutman blow us away in Australiana: www.youtube.com
[11] Donald Trump will be trumped in the end and is ‘but’ a sad hiccup in the long history of Western mishaps and misfortunes.
[12] Sam Neill’s kindness and authenticity throughout were his guiding stars. One of his most beautiful, aware and sensitive interview responses was to “a collective of Autistic journalism students on The Assembly” two years ago: “What is the best lesson you learnt from your parents?’ ‘That is a really, really interesting question. I don’t know why the question has moved me so much, but it has. My parents were of the generation that went through a lot of things /…/ but they were very stoic people. And I had a year at university where I’d done bugger all /… / It came to exam time and I realised I’d done almost no work. It got me very anxious. Anyway, I got home and Mum sad, ‘How are you darling’?’ And I said, ‘Oh mum, I think I’m having a breakdown…’ And she just looked at me, and she said, ‘Well, you’re just going to have to pull yourself together, aren’t ya?’ — ‘and I think that was the best lesson I learnt — sometimes you just have to pull yourself together.’” www.iview.abc.net.au
[13] Sam Neill in his 2023 memoir (“Thanks”): Text Publishing, Melbourne, Australia.