Michael Bryant: A Great Actor

I want to write something about an actor who is almost unknown today, yet was the most gifted actor I know of. It seems wrong that people of my generation haven’t heard of him. Hopefully, by writing this short piece, I can help to preserve the memory of his extraordinary talent.

There are two ways in which an actor can qualify as “great”.

The first is gravitas, presence, the ability to command a scene. Examples would be Sean Connery, Michael Caine, Clint Eastwood and Jack Nicholson. In his own way, each had effortless charisma and masculine power, and was able to dominate scenes, easily out-shining the other actors and drawing the viewer in to the story. This is not nothing. It is valuable. In many cases you need an actor like this in the lead role, to “carry” the drama. But it seems like a rather shallow gift, and one not requiring much effort or honing.

The other way to be a great actor is to be good at playing a wide range of different characters. This can be taught (actors in Britain were trained in it up till about 1980) but, as in all areas, the training is limited by the person’s innate talent. So some actors were versatile, but some were very versatile.

As an example to warm us up, let me introduce you to Geraldine Moffat. She acted in two plays, just one year apart. I happened to watch both on the same day. The roles are completely different but Moffat is so skilled that I didn’t realise it was the same actress. She was trained at the Bristol Old Vic Theatre School.

But the most versatile actor I know of is Michael Bryant (1928-2002), trained at the Webber Douglas Stage School. He was so versatile that I saw him in four different roles and never once recognised him. Only years later, doing research one day out of idle curiosity, did I learn it had been the same actor in those four dramas.

• 1972 Colditz, episode “Tweedledum”

• 1972 The Stone Tape

• 1974 Fall of Eagles, episode “The Appointment”

• 1974 The Treasure of Abbot Thomas

Note that these roles were all within a three-year period. In three years one barely ages at all. Therefore Bryant’s different “aura” in these roles was entirely a product of effort and skill. It was manufactured. He made it happen.

Of course one must acknowledge the contributions made by make-up, hair and costume. These were crucial in “making” Bryant into these various characters. But the rest was him.

British actors used to be good at doing different accents. I don’t know whether Bryant had that skill, but interestingly in the case of these four roles, he uses the same accent (standard RP of his era) every time. It’s just more evidence of his incredible talent that he could seem completely different even while using the same accent. He uses his voice differently - different rhythm, different tenor, and so on.

Colditz sees him as an inmate in a German POW camp in World War II. Here he is a rather meek man, but resourceful and persistent. Gradually, he goes insane. To call this performance memorable would not do it justice. The sheer attention that Bryant puts in to illustrating the character’s slow mental decline is remarkable. He does an incredible job here that, on its own, would mark him out as an exceptional actor. [WATCH]

The Stone Tape sees him as an aggressive “yuppy” sort of man - bold, ambitious, arrogant, bullying, yet also shallow, needy and impetuous, a sort of overgrown toddler. The performance could be described, by today’s standards, as over-the-top, but that is why it is such a thoroughly believable portrait of a narcissist. [WATCH]

Fall of Eagles sees him as a secret service mastermind - calm, icy, watchful, calculating, highly intelligent, and monstrously ruthless. This is a very frightening performance. [WATCH]

The Treasure of Abbot Thomas sees him as an affable vicar, trusting and open but also ambitious and complacent. [WATCH]

Remember, all within a three-year period. But these four roles were far from all he did in that period.

I haven’t seen these other productions. I dare say he “repeated himself” here and there; I will not pretend to assume that he was unrecognisably different in every role he ever played. However, I would expect that within this catalogue there are more than the four “versions” of Bryant that I have seen and described.

When young people nowadays tell me about an actor they think is “great”, the best scenario is that the actor gave a convincing performance that conveyed the character’s emotion to them. This is what now passes as “great”. But usually it’s not even that, and what they mean is that he was “memorable” in some film, perhaps exciting to watch, or he helped them engage with the story. They don’t realise that this used to be the baseline for actors. What they also miss is that, in all likelihood, he is the same in every film - probably just playing himself, or a generic character that any actor with equal gravitas could play.

This is what modern actors are like. They seem to be specifically trained to keep their performances “under-stated” and “naturalistic”. I hate this. As a viewer, you will have to discern the character’s nature and motivations purely from the things he does, because the actor will be doing very little. Not much investment is apparent. He hasn’t studied for the role, thought about it, worked out how to convey this or that, or even what things are there to be conveyed, and whether they should be conveyed, etc. No. He has simply learned the lines and is now “doing his thing”. This is not being a great actor.

To see a great actor, watch Michael Bryant.