Is it only me... or does anyone else not really "get" the huge praise that is being heaped on the head of Pete Postlethwaite, the Warrington-born actor who recently died.
Of course it is a rule that we should not speak ill of the dead and he was "Oscar Nominated". He also landed honorary doctorates from two Liverpool universities (see picture).
But praise should go where praise is due and while I don't particularly want to have a go at Mr Postlethwaite, it surely cannot be that possessed extraordinary acting talents.
To all intents and purposes he was a nice chap and a decent jobbing actor. Certainly he was top of the casting-list in the UK when an ugly bloke with dead-pan expression was required.
However, I find it strange that when I dare to voice this opinion I am rounded-upon like a heretic. The words of Stephen Spielberg are often quoted, since he described Mr P as "the best actor in the world" after he appeared in Jurassic Park.
But again, to my mind some of the acting in Jurassic Park was rather wooden, and the success of the film was down to special effects. I seem to recall that even its star Dickie Attenborough struggled with a ludicrously thin script, so Mr Spielberg's opinion on the quality of acting talent, may be taken with a pinch of salt.
Having said that, the obituary adulation of Pete Postlethwaite is completely normal and I've no rooted objection to seeing him lauded, albeit I think some of it has gone a little over the top.
I must confess I did not see his Lear, which is said to have been a triumph. Then again he was probably made for the part of an odd-looking crazy king.
What rankles with me is that his generation of actors includes much greater talents, who have have not received the same level of adulation.
They are performers who also earned their spurs at the Liverpool Everyman and Playhouse and warrant equal if not greater fame.
Alison Steadman, for one, is a truly wonderful actress, who deserves to be "Dame Alison", sooner rather than later.
And there are others from that same generation, who have died, but whose passing did not generate such huge chagrin. Perhaps that is because they never "made it" on the silver screen.
I am thinking in particular of two names.
The first is Ken Campbell, who died three years ago. He was not only a brilliant actor with a range that spanned comedy through to tragedy, but also a great director and inspiration to others.
The second was a truly wonderful actor named Neil Cunningham, whose premature death at the age of 44 in 1987 hardly rated a mention.
I remember taking photos of Neil as a cigarette-puffing Pope in a riveting production at the Playhouse around 1970. I don't recall the name of the play, but recollections of Neil's spine-tingling stage presence are imprinted in my mind.
(If anyone recalls the name of the play and any more about it, I'd be pleased to hear from them).
Sadly, Neil's film performances were sporadic, though they included a bit part in My Beautiful Launderette.
What a pity that he was not properly recognised as a huge talent, before and after his death.
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