Diana Rigg, R.I.P.

At my age, it doesn’t take much to feel old, some days more than others. A lithe young woman in a black leather catsuit stirs the blood (especially one holding a gun), and when that young woman dies, aged 82, it serves as a reminder that the pot doesn’t require much more stirring before it’s finished.

If you’re of that age, you remember that catsuit, and Diana Rigg, the young woman who wore it, from The Avengers. You also probably remember her from the James Bond movie On Her Majesty’s Secret Service. If you’re of a different age, the first thing you think of might be Game of Thrones, or perhaps a stage show you’d seen her in (such as Medea, for which she won a Tony in 1994), or any one of countless movies, television shows, or productions in which she appeared over a remarkable career. The point is, you remembered.

The outpouring of memories immediately following the announcement of her death was, in fact, remarkable. It seems as if everyone had a favorite moment, mostly from either The Avengers or On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (after all, who else can lay claim to having been the one and only “Mrs. James Bond”?), but by no means all. There was, for example, her appearance in the Hallmark Hall of Fame version of Witness for the Prosecution, in which she held her own in the role made famous by Marlene Dietrich. Or perhaps you remembered her wonderful turn in Paddy Chayefsky’s wicked The Hospital, a portrayal laced with both absurd humor and pathos. You might have recalled her performance in Mother Love, or the way she played Mrs. Danvers in a TV adaptation of Rebecca; speaking of which, she was a wonderful host of PBS’s Mystery! for many years, taking over from Vincent Price, and that’s no mean feat. She was an acclaimed stage actress, in the classics but also more contemporary fare; in addition to her Tony for Medea, she was nominated three other times. People who saw her perform in person didn’t forget it. She even appeared, with her daughter Rachael Sterling, on Doctor Who, and if that doesn’t seal the deal, nothing does. Her fans, her admirers, those who had enjoyed her work: all spoke of her with affection, appreciation that so many of her performances are available on video, and a little bit of sorrow.

Returning to this idea of age, of an era having passed: in that picture on top, she’s almost painfully young, isn’t she? Young, and breathtaking. No matter your age, it makes you wonder if you were ever that young, and I don’t think that I was. (I’d better start trying to make up for lost time.) Samuel West, who co-starred with her in the remake of All Creatures Great and Small, said: "Doesn't really make sense to think of her having died. She generally lived the hell out of everyone." She lived the hell out of her career, that’s for sure, and that’s something we’ll never forget. TV