Nicolas Roeg

When the news of the Canadian actor Donald Sutherland’s death at the age of eighty-eight was announced yesterday, it was greeted with a sigh and a shout by his peers. A sigh, because every great actor’s death, even at a grand old age, is a sad loss, and a shout, because there will now be the niggling feeling that Sutherland never quite got his due treatment when compared to his peers. Yes, he won an honorary Oscar in 2017, and yes, he appeared in his fair share of hugely acclaimed and iconic pictures, from M*A*S*H to Pride and Prejudice. But Sutherland’s tendency to appear in a lot of undistinguished B-movies, especially in the Eighties, has counted against him.  This is deeply unfair. He was an actor who, even in the weakest films he appeared in, brought class and dignity.

The director Nicolas Roeg, who died on Friday aged 90, was a master of daring, dreamlike cinema — so daring and dreamlike, in fact, that the studios often didn’t know what to do with his films. Walkabout (1971) lost money on its release, but slowly became a cult classic. Bad Timing (1980) so alarmed the Rank Organization that they billed the film as ‘a sick film made by sick people for sick people’. But as Roeg showed with 1973’s Don’t Look Now or 1985’s Insignificance, he was more than a purveyor of shocks and chills, or split-screen, time-jumping Sixties’ tricks. Roeg had risen through the ranks of the British film industry, from one indispensable role to another: teaboy to director.