Maggie Smith’s Enduring Charisma

Maggie Smith, a renowned actress with a distinguished career on stage and in film, possessed an undeniable charisma that transcended her roles. While she had already achieved considerable acclaim, her later years brought her even greater fame. Smith garnered Oscars in 1969 and 1978 for her roles in The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie and California Suite respectively. However, she continued to evolve her craft, cultivating an air of aloof charm that captivated audiences. Her memorable performances as Professor Minerva McGonagall in the Harry Potter films and the dryly witty Dowager Countess Violet Crawley in Downton Abbey are testaments to her exceptional talent. Smith’s versatility extended from Shakespearean dramas to children’s literature, enriching every project she graced with her presence. Her regal bearing and comedic timing made her a master at portraying characters who loved to stir the pot, albeit gently.

It is a shame that many people are only familiar with a certain group of esteemed British and Irish actors, including Michael Gambon, Richard Harris, and Smith, through their later roles. However, it is remarkable that younger generations had the opportunity to experience their talent. Considering the struggles many actors face in securing roles as they age, it is a testament to Smith’s enduring appeal. Additionally, it is never too early to introduce young audiences to the art of understated wit. In Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part Two, Smith’s performance as McGonagall is magical, bringing a set of stone warriors to life. When she says, “I’ve always wanted to use that spell,” with a touch of schoolgirl pride in her voice, it’s no wonder the line became a meme. However, the brilliance lies in the moments leading up to it. As McGonagall, Smith’s face lights up with surprise; even she hadn’t expected this arcane incantation to work. A great line often hinges on the setup, and Smith mastered this art.

Perhaps, inspired by their hero’s inquisitive nature, Harry Potter fans might be curious about Smith’s early performances. In The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, her portrayal of a teacher who fills her students’ minds with dreams, despite her own blind spots including a fascination with fascism, is a captivating and subtle masterpiece. As Miss Brodie greets “her girls” on the first day of class, she encourages a new student to share something about herself. When the girl talks about her accomplishments as a Girl Guide, adept at tying knots, Brodie interjects with grace: “For those who like that sort of thing, that is the sort of thing they like.” Her delivery is both dry, like an ancient fossil, and sparkling, like Champagne. It is not simply skillful acting; it is awe-inspiring.

Smith embraced her talent through numerous career transitions. In Neil Simon’s California Suite, she is wickedly brilliant as Diana Barrie, a snooty English actress nominated for an Academy Award for her role in a silly comedy. Although she initially pretends not to care, she is devastated when she loses. Smith transitions from comedy to melancholy with the subtlety of rustling leaves in autumn. When Diana confronts her husband, played by Michael Caine, accusing him of not loving her enough (he is gay, and this unspoken truth is part of their marital dynamic), he assures her in the most sincere way he knows: “I love you my angel, more than any woman I’ve ever known.” She replies with a witty remark that seems to emanate from her very soul: “Christ. I can’t get a break.” Diana is a woman who understands the world. Yet, with a single line, Smith reveals the pain of wanting something that is not meant to be.

The list of Smith’s film roles, both major and minor, is too extensive to fully encapsulate. She played Desdemona opposite Laurence Olivier’s Othello; the two would later reunite in the fantastical adventure Clash of the Titans, with Smith as the goddess Thetis. She also had small parts in Agatha Christie adaptations such as Death on the Nile and Evil Under the Sun, always bringing a delightful presence to the screen. She portrayed dignified aunts in films like Washington Square, A Room with a View, and Gosford Park, though nothing she did was ever perfunctory. Every role she took on possessed a unique spark. While her stage performances are less known, you can glimpse her genius in A Lady of Letters, the Alan Bennett monologue she performed as part of the playwright’s BBC Television series Talking Heads in 1987.

All these combined would have been more than enough for a fulfilling career. But in 2010, she took on a role that would exponentially increase her fame. Like McGonagall, Smith’s portrayal of Violet Crawley in Downton Abbey became a wellspring of memes. Even those who have never seen an episode of Downton Abbey, or either of its two film spinoffs, are likely familiar with Smith’s delivery of the line, “What is a weekend?” Her delivery was as gloriously arch as the most magnificent flying buttress. Violet Crawley allowed Smith to unleash her trademark wit upon the world: we could marvel at her imperial demeanor (who would believe she stood only 5’5″?), her mastery of the withering glare, her knack for delivering a cutting observation, pinkie up, as if it were the most delicate porcelain vessel. Smith’s longtime fans, those who have loved her since the 1960s, need not lament that her later roles brought her the greatest fame. Instead, consider how she embraced these late-career opportunities and, as if by magic, shared them with us, purely for our enjoyment.