A wave to my brother

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My brilliant brother, Anthony Minghella, would have been 67 today. He had our father’s hands – big and chunky and reassuring. He became quite famous, and everybody wanted a piece of him. It was frustrating sometimes. But there was this thing he would do: as you walked together, he would put his hand out just a little behind him, for you to take. He would flex his fingers in a kind of upside-down wave. And when you took that hand, the world fell away. You were safe, you were together, you were unassailable. Oh for that touch, for that feeling again.

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Michelle Guish

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from 24 Jan 2020

Shakespeare in Love
Four Weddings and a Funeral
The English Patient
Truly Madly Deeply
The Singing Detective
 
The list is looong,
And the work was fantastic.
That’s why Michelle Guish was the casting directors’ casting director.
 
But she was also our “industry Mum”. She hired my partner, Sarah Beardsall, straight out of college, and looked after us both, and taught us the virtues of craft, diligence and integrity in our work.
 
When I was broke, I’d find a tenner in my jacket pocket, and know it was Mishi quietly looking out for me.
 
Whenever I fill a dishwasher, still, I remember the machine she bought us for our first kitchen in 1993.
 
Or how she took our first born, rested him on her shoulder, and didn’t so much pat as whack him into calmness.
 
A no-nonsense person who could judge – and crush – your terrible ideas with a raised eyebrow or a deft squish of her brightly-lipsticked mouth.
 
Who loved actors, directors and the business of storytelling.
 
Who owned every single room she sat in.
 
Had waiters or shop assistants gladly running to service her every need.
 
Whose personality was plus, triple plus — and oh, that laugh, piercing and infectious, that went with it.
 
Who could be the centre of everything and yet, and yet, was so private too. You won’t find much about her online, and even less FROM her.
 
She had that extraordinary personality, but she valued professionalism too. She would never gossip. She didn’t schmooze. She cared only about getting the work right. She was the real deal. She was kosher.
 
And the thought that she is gone….?
 
Just like a Mum, you could call her — Sarah did, and I knew I could — and go straight to the heart of your troubles, and hope for sound advice.
 
And just like a Mum, the idea that you can’t call her any more… that that laugh has gone, that you’ll never see those censorious eyebrows and that gorgeously expressive face again… it’s too much to bear.
 
 
RIP Michelle Guish
9.3.1954 – 24.1.2020
 
The “Guish look”, from James Francis Trezza.
from James Francis Trezza
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