Beacon of positivity
For someone in the ‘‘cheering-up business’’, actor Sam Neill has some heavy things on his mind as he rides a new wave of popularity, writes
Of everything said and written about Jurassic Park in the 27 years since it roared into cinemas, one piece of feedback is still lodged in Sam Neill’s memory.
‘‘You only remember the bad reviews,’’ the actor says with a smile. ‘‘There was this little review running in The New Yorker week after week. And it openedwith something like, ‘This film marks amilestone in the history of cinema. For the first time computer-generated effects are more convincing than the acting’.’’
Neill, who does not enjoy watching his early work but is protective of Jurassic Park’s legacy, says the sideswipe was a ‘‘crusher’’, but at least recognised the movie’s groundbreaking use of computer-generated imagery. In the same magazine, critic Terrence Rafferty dubbed Steven Spielberg’s 1993 blockbuster ‘‘lifeless’’, ‘‘drab’’, ‘‘mediocre’’ and a ‘‘cold-blooded creation’’.
Nearly three decades on, audiences have delivered their own very different verdict. Jurassic Park and its handful of sequels still captivate millions and earn billions. And Neill, its original star, is adored maybe more than ever.
The 72-year-old has been a beacon of positivity during the Covid-19 pandemic. Videos of Neill singing, playing the ukulele, reciting poetry, talking to animals or having fun with celebrity mates have earned the versatile performer a new legion of fans, or reminded old ones why they always liked him.
When I tell friends that Neill has agreed to do an interview, they gush over how his contributions have kept them sane during lockdown.
‘‘The videos have kept me very occupied during all those months of ennui and anxiety,’’ Neill says. ‘‘I hope they have helped cheer some other people up, too.’’
The actor is reprising his role as palaeontologist Alan Grant for Jurassic World: Dominion – the sixth instalment of the franchise – and is in England filming when we speak via Zoom on a sunny Saturday morning. When I ask how he feels about American entertainment outlets describing Dr Grant – and the actor by default – as a ‘‘father figure’’ to a generation of movie-goers, Neill doesn’t skip a beat: ‘‘Better to be a daddy than some dodgy uncle.’’
Laura Dern – who like Neill is riding a new wave of popularity decades into a long career – is also back as paleobotanist Ellie Sattler. Jeff Goldblum rejoins them as mathematician Ian Malcolm.
‘‘We have known each other a
Bevan Shields.
very long time,’’ Neill says of the original trio. ‘‘Most of mywork is with Laura, who as we know can hardly fit into her house now for all the Oscars and Emmys and everything else. She is a completely delightful person.’’
Neill promises the legacy characters have not been consigned to cameos and will be running and screaming throughout the movie. ‘‘We are fully involved, as they say. And fully involved in dinosaur films, from my experience, means risking your neck on multiple occasions.
‘‘I’m very confident that this will be an absolute rip-snorter. I really love Colin Trevorrow, the director who has part-written it. He has been very collaborative and has this fantastic and infectious enthusiasm – just like Spielberg – for the work.’’
Neill hasn’t been back to his New Zealand winery since February, when he left to shoot a film in Marrakesh. He went to Australia as the pandemic gathered pace in March and spent most of the year in Sydney with friends and his partner, 7.30 chief political correspondent Laura Tingle, before flying to England. The Jurassic World cast and crew have taken over a hotel and are tested for Covid-19 at least three times aweek.
‘‘We are in this kind of bubble where we are insulated from the world and as long as I don’t turn on the news – which sort of gets worse every day – I am perfectly happy. Well ... there is maybe the odd glum day.’’
Neill doesn’t know when he will get back to New Zealand to see his newly-built house for the first time. He misses his pig, Angelica, and his sheep, Jeff Goldblum (both feature in his social media videos). And he’s sad to have not said a final goodbye to Charlie the duck before she died on the farm.
‘‘I’m mindful, though, that it’s a great privilege to be working at all at the moment because so many of my friends and colleagues in acting and the world of film are completely without work,’’ he says.
Will there be more work to come? For the curiousNeill, other documentaries are likely and more big-budget films close to a certainty. For some of his industry peers, the future is less certain.
‘‘It’s hard to be optimistic about things, but that is all we can do. I can’t be sure of this, but I suspect in 24 monthswewill be back on a reasonably even keel. In the meantime, there is just so much damage being done to the economy and to people’s lives and livelihoods that I just find very hard to think about.’’
For someone who boasts of being in the ‘‘cheering-up business’’ of winemaking, Neill has some heavy things weighing on his mind. He is upbeat, charming and funny for the majority of our conversation – he generously records a small video for my 10-year-old nephew, a big Jurassic Park fan – but also slips into darker territory.
‘‘I am very worried about America. I love America. I just love the States. I’m the sort of age that saw America as everything that was good: rock’n’roll, cars with fins, James Dean, John F Kennedy, baseball and chewing gum. All these things were just fantastic for someone from a little country on the other side of the world. And now I’d be reluctant to set foot in the place. It’s unrecognisable.’’
Neill knows celebrity interventions in politics can be just as dangerous as Alan Grant’s encounterswith rampaging theme park dinosaurs.
‘‘That’s really why I tend to not talk about it, because you don’t change anyone’s minds. Everyone’s rusted on. I’m just a flea on the hide of the world and I don’t expect anyone to listen to me.’’ –
I am very worried about America. I love America. I’m the sort of age that saw America as everything that was good ... now I’d be reluctant to set foot in the place. It’s unrecognisable.’ SAM NEILL