The “absolute pig of a part” Judi Dench hated playing: “In the end, we got away with it”
If one respected actor tells another respected actor that they’re going to hate playing a particular part because it’ll leave them on a hiding to nothing, they’d have every right to turn it down. Not Judi Dench, though, which at least meant she wasn’t surprised by the outcome.
The legendary dame’s heart belonged to the stage for the first three decades of her career, and it wasn’t until 1997’s Mrs Brown that she became a fixture on the big screen, earning the first of her eight Academy Award nominations. Her film and television appearances were sporadic up until then, and when she needed to work, treading the boards was her first port of call.
That led her down a sticky path in the late 1970s, with Dench realising that she may have bitten off more than she could chew. Having received an offer to play a key supporting role in a production based on the work of, who else, William Shakespeare, she sought advice from someone who’d played the part before and doubled as one of her biggest acting inspirations and influences.
The future staple of the James Bond franchise was in her mid-30s at the time, and after reaching out to Peggy Ashcroft, who was four decades her senior and one of the stage’s most respected and decorated veterans, she was forewarned that agreeing to take the job stood every chance of becoming her career’s sharpest double-edged sword.
“I felt that I was in for a run of difficult parts when I went back to Stratford to play Imogen in Cymbeline,” Dench wrote in her memoir, And Furthermore. “I had seen Dame Peggy play it at Stratford in the ’50s, and I thought she was exquisite. So I went to ask her advice, which was not the most comforting.”
Ashcroft offered words of encouragement, sort of. “It’s an absolute pig of a part, I never got it right,” she said. “You’ll hate playing it each night, but on the last night you’ll regret not being able to play it again.'” Ominous words, and she was only 50% correct. “I agreed with her about the part,” Dench offered. “But not the regrets.”
Despite her familiarity with Shakespeare, Dench called Cymbeline “difficult to make sense of,” which put her in an awkward position from the start. Nine times out of ten, she could perform any of his plays in her sleep, but with Ashcroft’s warning still ringing in her ear, she discovered that the part really was “an absolute pig,” and she had no intention of ever reprising it once the 1979 run had drawn to a close.
Matters weren’t helped by David Jones, the director, leaving for America as soon as her Cymbeline opened its doors to the public, “so he wasn’t around to help us get it right.” Without anyone to steer the ship, Dench did her best to avoid becoming lost at sea, and it was an experience she was in no hurry to replicate. “In the end, I think we got away with it,” she suggested. “But it is not a play for which I have any affection.”
