Godspeed, Michael Jayston

Goodbye to one of the greats

This past Tuesday morning, I happened to scroll through stories on Instagram and see that Michael Jayston, one of the stalwarts of British theater, film, and television, had died.

It wasn’t altogether surprising, as Jayston was 88, but it was still a bit of a shock.

I’m not sure how well American audiences knew Jayston. My first encounter with him was in my 10th grade history class, where my Russia-obsessed teacher showed us Nicholas and Alexandra. I’ll admit I don’t remember much about it—in fact, I’d say I remember three things: the chant Prince Alexei recited about how he wasn’t allowed to do anything (Alexei was a hemophiliac), the final scene—wherein the Romanovs are assassinated—and the that Tom Baker played Rasputin, which was honestly the only reason I found it interesting at all.

It wasn’t until 2021 that I realized Michael Jayston played Tsar Nicholas.

(The trailer’s a bit overwrought by modern standards—it’s considered the last great epic film, so that’s kind of fitting—and you get the idea.)

The movie was nominated for six Oscars and won two. Unlike many of his co-stars—that cast includes Ian Holm, Brian Cox, Roy Dotrice, Julian Glover, and Laurence Olivier, for crying out loud—Jayston didn’t really make a career for himself in the US, which is why I’m not sure how many Americans are familiar with him. He was all over UK telly for a while, though, both on screen and in voiceovers.

I encountered him for the “first” time (as far as I knew) as the Valeyard, a nefarious prosecutor who takes on Colin Baker’s Doctor on Doctor Who probably not too long after we watched Nicholas and Alexandra in history class.

The Valeyard is one of the most mysterious characters in Who history, with his actual identity a central question of the sole season he appears in, in which he presents questionable evidence against the Doctor in a Time Lord court.

He came back to the character several times on audio for Big Finish, adding new layers and also clearly having the time of his life.

I was fortunate enough to meet Michael Jayston twice. The first time was at Regeneration Who in Baltimore in 2018. I went to a meet-and-greet event with an assortment of guests the first night and was truly surprised to learn that evening that Jayston was a big fan of Groucho Marx, and even more surprised when he got up to leave our table and decided to re-enact one of his favorite Groucho bits by borrowing my hand, since I was seated next to him, saying, as he left us, “Fantastic bit of business.”

Three years later, when I saw him again in Long Island, I remembered that moment, but couldn’t for the life of me remember exactly what he’d done. I knew I wanted to see if I could get him to do it again and record it on video—and I managed it, thanks to my friend Chris, who I’d only just met, and who gamely agreed to be my spontaneous cameraman, since there was no way I was going to be able to record it myself.

I also got a photo with him, where he asked, “Smiling or stern?” I asked the photographer what he thought, and he recommended “stern,” so that’s what we did. I have to say, I was not fully prepared for the full effect of being glared at by Michael Jayston.

The moment definitely called for an appropriate response from me, but I couldn’t quite get all the way there, because I couldn’t stop laughing. I was just so unprepared for the menace in that glare that my brain got its wires crossed. After the photo was taken, he said, slowly, “You wouldn’t be smiling.” And he was right.

Despite that intense glare, I agree with the folks at Big Finish that Michael Jayston was a warm and generous soul, and I’m really glad I got the chance to meet him. (I did talk to him about doing the podcast, and he was amenable to the idea, but the ins and outs of Zoom were, unfortunately, not something he was familiar with.)

Encounters like these are one of the reasons that I am a firm believer in taking advantage of opportunities when they present themselves, especially if they involve meeting folks you might not otherwise cross paths with. They’ve certainly enriched my life greatly, and it’s worth a little momentary nervousness for the memories you can create in the process if you’re willing to say hello.

Regardless, I’m sad that we’ve lost such a great actor and human. If you’re not familiar with his work, I hope you’ll be inspired to check it out.

Godspeed, Michael Jayston. Thanks for everything.