Tom Stoppard was our Oscar Wilde.

According to the playwright John Guare, a woman sitting in front of him at a performance of The Real Thing was heard saying to her husband, “I feel so witty!” And indeed, we all felt witty and smart, maybe even erudite, watching a Stoppard play. Certainly we actors thought it a rare privilege to speak his words, inhabit his mindscape, rise to his level of eloquence.

Sir Tom had a formidable intellect, a dazzling talent, a kind and graceful manner, and a rock star glamour. He wore the mantle of his fame lightly, rather like a cashmere scarf tossed around his neck. With his lion’s mane of hair, those voluptuous lips, and dangling cigarette, we all had a crush on him!

I had the great good fortune of being cast as Jeremy Irons’s wife in the New York prod

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