This is impossibly sad news. I’m not one to get particularly worked up when a famous person passes away – they’re not any more special than the hundreds of people who die of some fatal disease or another in Africa every day – but Natasha Richardson was a particularly special actress, even if she was hardly the most famous or instantly recognisable face to the great majority of filmgoers. Her best work was by most accounts done on the stage; I’m sorry to say that I never had the chance to see her in that environment, and I’m even sorrier to know that I never will now. There were rumors that she and her mother, Vanessa Redgrave, were going to headline a New York revival of A Little Night Music, following up from their concert success a few months ago; now we’ll never get to experience what would undoubtedly have been that great triumph, nor any of the other performances the 45-year-old actress might still have had within her.
My own Natasha Richardson story: my first exposure to her was the 1998 cast recording of the Cabaret revival in which she played Sally Bowles, and even on CD I was keenly aware that she was doing things that I’d have never thought could be done with that role. I’ve seen her in films since then, good and not so good, and there was never once a time where she wasn’t the best part of the project, always electrifying, sexy, charming, smart.
Acting has suffered a great loss today, to say nothing of Ms. Richardson’s family, as impressive a collection of famous performers as you could put together: her mother Vanessa, of course, and her aunt Lynn Redgrave; her sister Joely Richardson, and her husband Liam Neeson, as well as their two children. My thoughts and sincerest condolences, however feeble, go out to all of them.