As she plays an unsatisfied woman seeking dangerous thrills in the TV drama Truelove, the star remembers the shocking sexism she had to endure on her way to becoming one of our classiest actors. T he spectacle of Lindsay Duncan being not nice — selfish or truculent or evil to her core — will never get old.
I speak to her by Zoom. She is at home in London. But this ring light, I think it might be a good thing. Maybe the fact that society barely exists. Where are the neighbours? Where is everybody? Where are the things we used to take for granted about growing up in society? Bleasdale had an absolute passionate commitment to the politics, and mad humour; he was saying proper tough stuff, but entertaining you hugely.
That was not a problem. I had fantastic support from my mother in whatever I wanted to do, and I had a grant. It might have been hierarchical, but for the most part, it was mutually supportive, and you were taking baby steps into the world. I was asked to show my legs at the audition. I was wearing a full-length dress as costume, so why should I need to show my legs?
I was never a young, glamorous person at all. Then, later, I had a photocall for that job, where I was asked to bend forward. I got back to the flat I was living in, with two guys, and just burst into tears. I carried this mix of shame and distress that I could hardly articulate.
Can you imagine anybody asking me that now? She was never self-assured, she says, and barely knew what she was doing, least of all on TV. She loves working on short films. With a lot of old people? But you know: a lot of old people. This article is more than 1 year old. Zoe Williams. View image in fullscreen. Explore more on these topics Television Lindsay Duncan Older people interviews. Reuse this content.
