Before there was Jude Law, Kenneth Branagh, or Nicol Williamson, there was Paul Scofield, the epitome of the British actors' actor. Although a contemporary of Laurence Olivier and Richard Burton, Scofield is today less well-known, perhaps because of his modest personality, perhaps because he has, to this day, remained true to his one wife, but most likely because he remained an onstage workman, venturing into film (A Man for All Seasons, Quiz Show, The Crucible) only when the role suited him and not because of the lure of Hollywood.
Scofield never wanted for roles, working full time with successful stage companies paying living wages. The story of his life might as well be science fiction to today's young readers. But his craft, described here through interviews with fellow actors, as well as by contemporaneous theatre reviews, was as modern as possible; his natural demeanor, his disappearance into roles by virtue of his emphasis on characterization, continue to make him a worthwhile subject of study and admiration.
This biography, meticulously researched and prepared by author Garry O'Connor, succeeds because O'Connor utterly respects but is willing to probe his subject. O'Connor's style is appropriate for his subject's personality and era—a gentlemanly, mid-century style, written literarily, conveying information while remaining pleasing to the eye. Encyclopedic in scope, the material is probably also extremely accurate: The author quotes notes Scofield penned in the manuscripts.
We proceed chronologically, from Scofield's early gifts for mimicry and his onstage debut, in 1935 at age 13 as Juliet, through his several incarnations as what has been termed the best Hamlet of the 20th century, ending with his towering portrayal in 1996 of Ibsen's John Gabriel Borkman and a radio play in November 2000 in which he played Ibsen.
Scofield has been called "safe," not by virtue of his acting choices but because of his dependability. Indeed, no less than Dame Maggie Smith has dubbed Scofield her idol, not only for his technique but also for a sense of comfort the audience feels as soon as he steps onstage. O'Connor delves into Scofield's technique, but we are left with the thought that much of the actor's skills depend on his innate talent, good taste, and hard-working ethic. Not that O'Connor doesn't also try to delve into Scofield's private life; but the actor, as well as those around him, always note a wall between his public and private personas. His leading ladies and male co-stars alike admitted to crushes on him, but Scofield would have none but his wife and his work. Ultimately human, however, the actor does admit to one addiction: chocolate.
Useful for its historical perspective as well as its analysis of acting styles, O'Connor's work is indeed an immersing, intoxicating look at this now-octogenarian and all his seasons, who seems to have the misfortune only of having his name repeatedly misspelled.
Applause Theatre & Cinema Books, 2002, $26.95.
—Dany Margolies