Like so many boys of my age, I was enchanted by her performances as Mrs. Peel. As a one time student of acting, I regarded those performances as a wonder even in all the silliness, though of course her costumes were not lost on me. The Avengers broadcasts of my youth were late at night and seemed scattered so that only occasionally was I able to enjoy them. However, because of my interest in acting, I read about a lot of actors, especially the British variety of whom she was a favorite.
At one time she wrote a book of critical reviews by mostly British critics titled No Turn Unstoned. In it she had some of the most clever and withering commentary on turns by very notable performers many or perhaps most of which were contributed by the actors themselves as the proceeds of the book were to go a show business charity. (Unable to find my copy of the book, I can’t be more specific.)
After her introductory remarks she noted that she could not expose all her colleagues’ pain without including a dart aimed at herself. What I recall of the article was that it related to one of her Broadway performances and specifically to a nude scene therein. The author declared that she had a body like a gothic cathedral with too few flying buttresses. It has been remarked that she was especially well known for her humor. Her commentary in Unstoned and her inclusion of that review more than validate the claim.
I particularly enjoyed George Lazenby’s Bond but never forgave those folks for killing off Rigg’s character and so early. However, my favorite of her movies was The Hospital. One scene is forever burned into my memory and perhaps my soul. In it, Rigg’s character has a monologue seducing George C. Scott’s doctor in which she describes her coming of age and states that “she masturbated incessantly.” Suddenly I was 14, rivetted and gasping at the image.
For a long time we have spent most Christmases in London enjoying theater and concerts as well as other events of the season. On one of those trips Diana Rigg and David Suchet were performing in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf. Knowing a great deal about Rigg and only Suchet’s Poirot, I was fascinated but could not imagine his being able to stand up to the challenge. Somehow we not only were able to obtain tickets but were close to the stage.
During our visit but before seeing the play, there was a radio interview of Rigg by an ignorant young man who asked what it was like for her to perform on stage and in such a serious role. Somewhere there must be a record of her response (of which I have no recollection), but suffice it say that it was the epitome of grace and generosity.
I must include in these remarks a final adolescent reaction. Late in the play the other male actor grabbed Dame Diana as she faced the audience and forcefully put his hand between her legs. I was aghast and nearly came out of my seat!
The performance was a tour de force. It was wrenching for audience and actors alike; indeed, the actors obviously were exhausted. Mr. Suchet was magnificent.
My final recollection of that night is that during the second intermission, an older woman behind me said emphatically in her wonderfully British way (to which the printed word cannot do justice), “It’s awfully long.” It seemed the perfect comment in the land of Shakespeare!