I first met the actor John Savident while working at the Theatre Royal, Lincoln in the early 1960s.
He had a presence and authority that belied the fact he was still in his mid-20s, notably as a testy, Homburg-hatted patriarch in Neil Simon’s Come Blow Your Horn.
Later I shared a flat in London with John, his wife, Rona, and their young son. He was then a member of Laurence Olivier’s stellar National Theatre company at the Old Vic and I was a struggling young critic. John urged me to sharpen my prose style and improve my dress sense.
I never did the latter – and probably not the former – but I was always grateful to John for his kindness, and never doubted that he would achieve the fame he richly deserved.
Michael Billington
In around 1970, when I was 12, John Savident was a Scout district commissioner at a camp that he had organised in Harlow, Essex. It was a gastromic themed event, and we made chicken à la king and sausages baked in banana skins. John did the judging.
Nick Fulcher
