A tribute to Jeremy by Edward Hardwicke ...

In October 1993, during the filming of the last series of Sherlock Holmes, an article appeared in the independent newspaper, it was headlined: “Underrated - the case of Jeremy Brett’s Sherlock Holmes”. Among other things in the story, Kevin Jackson wrote … “Brett’s true brilliance is over-looked not because no one says that he is splendid, but because everybody does. He offers a combination of fidelity and audacity. Everything he does can ultimately be justified by chapter and line from Conan Doyle’s stories, but he has taken liberties with the myth so confidently that he has, over the last decade, taken possession of it and displaced the literary Holmes!” For me, that is the hallmark of great acting - to take an author’s words and push them another mile down the creative road, illuminating the text in a way that even the author could not visualise. But that is to judge Jeremy as an actor, and thankfully,  we are all able to do that, with the wonderful legacy of work he has left us.

 
I first met him three decades ago when we were both members of the National Theatre Company at the Old Vic. He was in such memorable productions as The Merchant of Venice, As You Like It and Hedda Gabler. I never managed to work with him in those days. I had to wait until I had the great good fortune to take over from David Burke as Dr Watson and join the already successful team making Sherlock Holmes. It was an exciting if nerve-racking time for me. But it was made easier by Jeremy’s support, generosity and humour. Only once did he even attempt to impose on me an idea of his own. On the very first day of rehearsal, he looked at me critically and said: “Dear heart, I think you need more hair and I think you should wear lifts.”

That was the moment I knew I was playing the Ernie Wise part - short, fat, hairy legs and you can’t see the join. The toupee lasted eight years and became affectionately known to Jeremy as Roland - Roland Rat.

The lifts, however, only lasted a day. It was impossible to keep up with Jeremy’s Holmes’s - one gloved hand behind his back, the other holding his silver-topped cane over his shoulder, coat tails flying as he paced ahead with his immense and rapid stride.

Over the next eight years we became great friends. He was a joy to work with, always daring, positive and generous to his fellow actors. He was a perfectionist in an age of small-screen minimalism. He brought a whiff of Edwardian acting to film and made it work miraculously. He taught himself to think positively. He was an optimist, wonderful for me - a natural pessimist.

Before we did Jeremy Paul’s stage play The Secret Of Sherlock Holmes, almost before Jeremy Paul had written it, Jeremy B announced positively: “Edward, we are going to do this performance!”  And so we did - at Wyndham Theatre where it ran for a year. His positive thinking and optimism helped carry him through the later series, when his health began to deteriorate and the strain on him was immense.

The Sherlock Holmes team became a family and Jeremy led splendidly. I remember he used to carry a little Instamatic Camera in the pocket of his costume. Unnoticed he would snap away at actors and crew. Then, a few days later, nothing said, a photograph would appear pinned up around the back of the set. Done with humour and affection, it was a great way of bringing everyone together. Very simple, and very clever. The crew and casts loved him and would do anything for him.

Jeremy often said that there were few larger-than-life personalities around these days. Jeremy gave the lie to that. He was certainly larger than life, and could be a true eccentric.

He developed a Jeremy uniform - white cotton trousers and navy or dark green sweaters - always cashmere - and a scarf. Whether entertaining cast and crew, which he frequently did, to dinner at Coco’s, a wonderful Italian restaurant in Manchester, or champagne for everyone in the cocktail lounge of Britannia Hotel or the Midland, he was in the same outfit. It took me a long time to work out why anyone so flamboyant as he seemed to be so restricted in his dress. Then suddenly dawned on me. A needless complication had been removed from his life. Whatever the occasion, no one ever expected to see Jeremy in any other cloths - brilliant.

This did have it’s funny side, however …

One morning, as I approached the entrance to the Granada studios, Jeremy arrived in a cab. As he leant forward on the pavement to pay the driver, the waistband of his well-worn, much-laundered white trousers parted company with the legs which fell in a heap on the kerb. Giggling, Jeremy pulled them back up and struggled to the safety of the wardrobe, where his laughter could be heard as far away as Liverpool. His laugh was always infectious. When I think of Jeremy, I think of his laughing… that will always be my lasting memory of him. I cannot pay him a greater compliment.

Among the many, many letters of tribute that have arrived from all over the world, one in particular from America appealed to me. It starts with a wonderful tribute to Jeremy’s performance as Holmes and then says: “Do you believe in an afterlife? I do and I’ll bet that wherever Jeremy is right now he is buying everyone champagne.” I don’t know the exact quote, but someone once said: “No one is truly gone as long as they are remembered.” My dear late friend will be remembered and greatly missed. Here’s to you, Jeremy!’ Edward Hardwicke speaking at the Memorial Service held at St Martin in the Fields.