Born in Essex and trained at Rada, Juliet Stevenson, 67, made her TV acting debut in Granada drama The Mallens in 1979. She has won numerous awards and nominations, including an Evening Standard best actress award for Truly, Madly, Deeply opposite Alan Rickman. She is also a hugely popular audiobook narrator. Her new film, Reawakening, co-stars Jared Harris and Erin Doherty.
Reawakening is about a working-class couple, Mary and John, whose 14-year-old daughter went missing a decade ago. As a parent who has experienced loss [Stevenson’s stepson, Tomo Brody, died in 2020, aged 37], how did you prepare emotionally for that?
I often feel like a ruthless recycling machine, recycling things I have felt in my life and what I’ve observed others feeling. Nothing is sacred, because my memory bank is my fuel. But I also love that this film is a thriller, where something very profound – the loss of a child – is explored, before it twists and becomes something much more, about desperate yearnings, faith and belief.
And then their daughter reappears. A film about grief made you famous of course…
It did. And I still get lots of feedback from Truly, Madly, Deeply, which is astonishing – so many people still, generation after generation.
Why do you think that is?
Because loss and grief are usually portrayed on film and stage as sort of elegant. You get one or two beautiful tears rolling down the perfect cheek. Nothing’s smudged. There’s no dirt. But when you’re in grief you feel like shit. You hate the world. You’re jealous of other people’s happiness. It can be a very ugly state. I remember Anthony Minghella cleverly saying: Look, it’s very whimsical to have ghosts coming back from the dead, so you have to root that in something very real and raw. So I made Nina’s grief unbearable!
Reawakening sees you working with writer-director Virginia Gilbert, and you recently spoke enthusiastically about working with a female director of photography on ITV drama The Long Call. Is the business getting easier for women?
It’s changing but slowly, and not nearly enough. I’ve done three big filming projects this year for the BBC and CBS, and all the directors, writers and technicians were men, pretty much, however nice they were to work with. There needs to be more women and more film-makers of colour in this country because there are so many stories that need to be told, and different, subtler ways of telling them, but they’re not supported.
What’s the biggest issue?
Chronic underfunding. We create so much talent in this country – writers, actors, designers, technicians – and have centuries of storytelling, art and design in our culture, but as soon as anybody makes a bit of a reputation, off they go to the States and we lose it. It’s just heartbreaking, like a brain drain. A talent drain.
You were recently quoted as saying you’d join the Garrick Club if it accepted women. Have you?
No! I haven’t been subsequently invited to join, and I’m not a very club person anyway. I only got involved in the campaign alongside Mary Beard because I supported the idea in principle. I just simply didn’t understand the opposition. You know, guys, what are you scared of?
You’re vocally political – speaking up recently about the situation in Gaza and the refugee crisis. Do you ever worry about doing that publicly?
There’s a long tradition of people in the creative professions standing up and speaking about things going on in the world that affect people, from writers like Jonathan Swift or Charles Dickens, artists like Hogarth, or film directors like Mike Leigh or Ken Loach. I just consider myself, and I say this with humility, to be part of that. I think the arts are political with a very small “p”, in the sense that we are reflecting humanity back at itself.
You married your partner of more than 30 years, and father of your children, Hugh Brody, in 2021. What’s different?
Absolutely nothing at all! [laughs] So many people said: “Oh, I felt quite different once we got married,” but that’s not true for me. The only reason we did it is we’re older now, and it made a sort of sense. To have weathered some of the most challenging storms, and actually love each other even more after many, many years, makes me feel incredibly lucky. Love needs time and energy. It’s the most important force in the world.
Looking back, what projects are you most proud of?
I loved being in Bend It Like Beckham, where I play Keira Knightley’s mum – I based her on a mum I was very fond of at the school my kids went to, who was always turning up late in a panic, always made up to the nines. I think Gurinder Chadha genuinely made a huge contribution to the way that girls’ football is perceived in this country 20-odd years ago. To do so in a film that was also a fascinating exploration of what it is to grow up as a British Asian kid in a Muslim family was brilliant too. All credit to her.
Did you read Alan Rickman’s diaries?
I didn’t. I don’t know whether he wanted them published, but I just didn’t want to be involved in that world. I know what my relationship with him was like. He was a complicated person, but like a big brother – he just picked me up and kind of looked after me, bossed me around, gave me notes endlessly, and taught me a huge amount.
What excites you in the acting world today?
So many great young directors, like Alex Lowther, who just directed me in a short film, who I’ve already worked with as an actor, and Robert Icke in theatre. I find the younger generation easier to work with – they’re more direct and you just get on with the work. I always say to them: “Please just treat me like I’ve just left drama school”, and they do. I need notes. I always want direction. I’m always desperate to get better!
