John Gielgud: the story on HearLore

John Gielgud

On the first day of his drama training, a woman named Constance Benson looked at the seventeen-year-old John Gielgud and told him he walked like a cat with rickets. The comment struck him with the force of a physical blow, shattering the conceit of a young man who had already begun to believe in his own destiny. Yet this moment of brutal honesty became the foundation for a career that would span eight decades and redefine the art of English acting. Born on the 14th of April 1904 in South Kensington, London, Gielgud emerged from a family steeped in theatrical history. His mother, Kate Terry-Gielgud, was the daughter of the legendary actress Kate Terry, and his lineage included the famous Terry family dynasty that had dominated the Victorian stage. Despite this heritage, his father Frank Henry Gielgud was a stockbroker with no theatrical ambitions, and the family initially viewed the stage as an unsuitable profession for their children. Gielgud was the third of four children, with brothers Lewis and Val who pursued careers in public service and radio drama respectively, and a sister Eleanor who would later become his secretary. His early education at Hillside preparatory school and Westminster School provided a stark contrast between his academic struggles in mathematics and his natural talents in English and divinity. It was at Westminster that he first experienced the electric atmosphere of the West End, watching legends like Sarah Bernhardt and Marie Lloyd, and singing in the choir at Westminster Abbey, a ritual that would later inform his deep connection to the rhythm and structure of verse. The young Gielgud was not interested in sport, excelling instead in sketching and drama, though his father had once suggested he might be better suited for an architect's office. By the time he left school in 1921, he had convinced his reluctant parents to allow him to take drama lessons, with the understanding that if he was not self-supporting by the age of twenty-five, he would seek an office post. This gamble would pay off in ways he could never have imagined, launching him into a world where he would become one of the most celebrated figures of the twentieth century.

The Hamlet That Ruled The Stage

In 1930, the actor who would become known as the finest Hamlet of his era stepped onto the stage at the Old Vic and changed the course of Shakespearean performance forever. Harcourt Williams, the director of the Old Vic, had invited Gielgud to join the company, and the young actor seized the opportunity to play the Prince of Denmark using the complete text of the play. This was a radical innovation at a time when extensive cuts were customary, resulting in a running time of nearly five hours that did not dampen the enthusiasm of the public or the critics. The production gained such a reputation that the cast moved to the Queen's Theatre, where the text was discreetly shortened to give the title role even more prominence. Critics were lavish in their praise, with Ivor Brown calling it a tremendous performance and James Agate declaring it the high water-mark of English Shakespearean acting of the time. This role established Gielgud as a star, but it was not the only one that defined his early career. He also became celebrated for his portrayal of John Worthing in The Importance of Being Earnest, a role that showcased his wit and superficiality, contrasting sharply with the romantic and soulful Hamlet. The production featured his aunt, Mabel Terry-Lewis, as the formidable Lady Bracknell, and the pairing of Gielgud and Terry-Lewis was described by The Times as brilliant, with the two actors allowing Oscar Wilde to speak in his own voice. The success of these roles led to a period of intense activity, where Gielgud played a wide range of parts, from Richard II to King Lear, and established himself as a leading exponent of Shakespeare. His partnership with Ralph Richardson, which began in 1930, would last for more than fifty years, despite their initial differences. Richardson recalled Gielgud as a brilliant butterfly, while he himself was a gloomy sort of boy, but their friendship and professional association grew stronger over time. Gielgud's influence extended beyond his own performances, as he helped Richardson with his performance as Caliban in The Tempest, cementing a bond that would endure until the end of Richardson's life. The 1930s were a period of rapid growth for Gielgud, who also began to explore directing, setting up his own company at the Queen's Theatre and producing a season of classics that included Richard II, The School for Scandal, Three Sisters, and The Merchant of Venice. His performances drew superlatives from reviewers and colleagues, with Agate considering his Richard II to be probably the best piece of Shakespearean acting on the English stage today. The venture did not make much money, but it established Gielgud as a force to be reckoned with in the theatrical world, and his reputation as a master of verse and a consummate professional was firmly established.

When was John Gielgud born and where did he grow up?

John Gielgud was born on the 14th of April 1904 in South Kensington, London. He grew up in a family steeped in theatrical history with a mother who was the daughter of the legendary actress Kate Terry.

What happened to John Gielgud on the 20th of October 1953?

John Gielgud was arrested in Chelsea for cottaging on the 20th of October 1953. The incident led to a fine and a nervous breakdown, though his career survived with the support of fellow players like Sybil Thorndike.

How did John Gielgud win an Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor?

John Gielgud won the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor for his role as Hobson in the 1981 film Arthur. He turned the part down twice before accepting it and won the Oscar despite his initial nervousness about the strong language used in the role.

What is the significance of the one-man show The Ages of Man created by John Gielgud?

John Gielgud created the one-man show The Ages of Man in 1956 to keep his career alive during a period when few new plays suited him. The show featured Shakespearean speeches and sonnets and won him a Special Tony Award in 1959.

When did John Gielgud die and how old was he at the time of his death?

John Gielgud died at home on the 21st of May 2000 at the age of 96. His final feature film appearance was as Pope Pius V in Elizabeth in 1998.

The Scandal That Shook The World

On the evening of the 20th of October 1953, the life of Sir John Gielgud was irrevocably altered when he was arrested in Chelsea for cottaging, a crime that carried the threat of imprisonment and social ruin. Until the 1960s, sexual activity of any kind between men was illegal in Britain, and the Home Secretary of the day, David Maxwell Fyfe, was fervently homophobic, urging the police to arrest anyone who contravened the Victorian laws against homosexuality. Gielgud was fined, and when the press reported the story, he thought his disgrace would end his career. The incident occurred while he was in Liverpool on the pre-London tour of a new play, A Day by the Sea, and he was so paralyzed by nerves that the prospect of going onstage as usual seemed impossible. However, his fellow players, led by Sybil Thorndike, encouraged him to continue, and his career was saved. The episode briefly affected Gielgud's health, and he suffered a nervous breakdown some months afterwards. He never spoke publicly about the incident, and it was quickly sidelined by the press and politely ignored by writers during his lifetime. Privately, he made donations to gay campaign groups, but did not endorse them in public. In his later years, he told the actor Simon Callow that he admired people like Ian McKellen for coming out, but he could not be doing with that himself. The scandal did not destroy his career, but it did force him to reevaluate his life and his work. He concentrated on directing and did not appear on stage for a period, and his productions ranged from a revival of Charley's Aunt with John Mills to The Cherry Orchard with Gwen Ffrangcon-Davies. The return to the stage was in a production of King Lear, which was badly hampered by costumes and scenery by Isamu Noguchi that the critics found ludicrous. A revival of Much Ado About Nothing with Peggy Ashcroft in 1955 was much better received, and Gielgud continued to work, though the episode had a lasting impact on his personal life. He never spoke publicly about the incident, and it was quickly sidelined by the press and politely ignored by writers during his lifetime. The scandal did not destroy his career, but it did force him to reevaluate his life and his work. He concentrated on directing and did not appear on stage for a period, and his productions ranged from a revival of Charley's Aunt with John Mills to The Cherry Orchard with Gwen Ffrangcon-Davies. The return to the stage was in a production of King Lear, which was badly hampered by costumes and scenery by Isamu Noguchi that the critics found ludicrous. A revival of Much Ado About Nothing with Peggy Ashcroft in 1955 was much better received, and Gielgud continued to work, though the episode had a lasting impact on his personal life.

The One Man Show That Saved Him

In the late 1950s, as British theatre began to move away from the West End glamour of the past, Gielgud found himself in a career doldrum, with few new plays suitable for him. The new wave of writers, including John Osborne, was not in tune with his style, and he remained in demand as a Shakespearean, but there were few new plays that suited him. To keep his career alive, he created a one-man show called The Ages of Man, which he first appeared in 1956 and revived every year until 1967. The show was an anthology of Shakespearean speeches and sonnets, compiled by George Rylands, in which Gielgud, wearing modern evening clothes on a plain stage, recited the verses, with his own linking commentary. He performed it all over Britain, mainland Europe, Australasia and the US, including a performance at the White House in 1965. The advantages of performing solo were clear to him, as he noted that it was much easier without a Juliet to distract the audience. His performance on Broadway won him a Special Tony Award in 1959, and an audio recording in 1979 received a Grammy Award. The show became a central part of his career, allowing him to maintain his presence in the public eye while he searched for new plays that suited him. He continued to try, without much success, to find new plays that suited him as an actor, but his direction of Peter Shaffer's first play, Five Finger Exercise, received acclaim. The Ages of Man was a testament to his mastery of verse and his ability to connect with audiences, and it became a defining feature of his later career. He made many other recordings, both before and after this, including ten Shakespeare plays, and his voice became one of the most recognized in the world. The show also allowed him to explore the full range of his talents, from the tragic to the comic, and it became a vehicle for his own commentary on the human condition. The Ages of Man was a success, and it helped to keep Gielgud's career alive during a period when he was struggling to find new roles. The show was a testament to his resilience and his ability to adapt to changing times, and it became a defining feature of his later career.

The Late Bloomer Who Conquered Hollywood

For the first half of his career, Gielgud did not take the cinema seriously, making only a few films and viewing them as a necessary evil rather than an art form. He made his first film in 1924, and had successes with The Good Companions in 1933 and Julius Caesar in 1953, but he did not begin a regular film career until his sixties. The turning point came in 1964, when he received an Academy Award nomination for his performance as King Louis VII of France in Becket, with Richard Burton in the title role. This minor but flashy role had considerable and long-lasting importance, as his unrivalled theatrical dignity greatly enhanced the film. Gielgud finally began to take the cinema seriously, for financial and sometimes artistic reasons, and he told his agent to accept any reasonable film offers. His films of the mid-1960s included Tony Richardson's The Loved One, which was a disaster despite later acclaim, and Orson Welles's Falstaff film Chimes at Midnight, which was unsuccessful at the time but has since been recognized as one of the best, albeit most eccentric, of all Shakespearean movies. The real breakthrough came in 1981, when he played Hobson, the acid-tongued butler in Arthur, for which he won the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor. He turned the part down twice before finally accepting it, nervous after the Caligula débâcle of the strong language used by the acerbic Hobson. He won an Oscar as Best Supporting Actor and other awards for the performance, though he placed little value on awards and avoided presentation ceremonies whenever he could. His film work further earned him a Golden Globe Award and two BAFTAs, and he appeared in more than sixty films between Becket and Elizabeth in 1998. Gielgud's late film career was a testament to his versatility and his ability to adapt to new challenges, and it became a defining feature of his later years. He appeared in films of little merit, lending distinction while not damaging his own reputation, and he told an interviewer that he was happy to travel all over the world at other people's expense. His most successful film performance of the decade was in Arthur, and he continued to work in film and television until the end of his life. His last feature film appearance was as Pope Pius V in Shekhar Kapur's Elizabeth in 1998, and he died at home on the 21st of May 2000, at the age of 96.

The Man Who Won Every Award

Sir John Gielgud achieved a distinction that no other actor in history has matched: he won an Oscar, an Emmy, a Grammy, and a Tony. This rare feat, known as an EGOT, was a testament to his versatility and his ability to excel in every medium. He broadcast more than a hundred radio and television dramas between 1929 and 1994, and made commercial recordings of many plays, including ten of Shakespeare's and three recordings from his own Ages of Man. His voice was famous from the start of his career, and he was known for his mastery of Shakespearean verse. He was knighted in 1953, and the Gielgud Theatre was named after him in 1994. From 1977 to 1989, he was president of the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art, and he was the academy's first honorary fellow in 1989. His state honours included Knight Bachelor, Legion of Honour, Member of the Order of the Companions of Honour, and Member of the Order of Merit. He was awarded honorary degrees by St Andrews, Oxford and Brandeis universities. Gielgud was uninterested in religion or politics, and his indifference to politics was illustrated at a formal dinner not long after the Second World War when he asked a fellow guest, Whereabouts are you living now?, unaware that, as he was talking to Clement Attlee, the answer was 10 Downing Street. His dedication to his art was not solemn, and the critic Nicholas de Jongh wrote that Gielgud's personality was such infinite, mischievous fun. Together with Richardson and Olivier, Gielgud was internationally recognized as one of the great trinity of theatrical knights who dominated the British stage for more than fifty years during the middle and later decades of the 20th century. The critic Michael Coveney wrote, for Gielgud's ninety-fifth birthday, that he was a beacon of classical stage. In an obituary in The Independent, Alan Strachan concluded that any consideration of Gielgud's rich and often astonishing career must return to the stage, as he wrote at the close of An Actor and His Time, he saw the theatre as more than an occupation or a profession; for me it has been a life. Gielgud's final West End play was Hugh Whitemore's The Best of Friends in 1988, and he played Sir Sydney Cockerell, director of the Fitzwilliam Museum, in a representation of a friendship between Cockerell, Bernard Shaw and Laurentia McLachlan, a Benedictine nun. He had some trouble learning his lines, and at one performance he almost forgot them, momentarily distracted by seeing in a 1938 copy of The Times, read by his character, a review of his own portrayal of Vershinin in Three Sisters fifty years earlier. Gielgud's partner, Martin Hensler, died in 1999, and after this, Gielgud went into a physical and psychological decline. He died at home on the 21st of May 2000, at the age of 96. At his request there was no memorial service, and his funeral at All Saints' Church, Wotton Underwood, was private, for family and close friends.