REMEMBERING ROY DOTRICE

by Linda S Barth

Like all BatB fans, I was terribly sad to learn of the passing of our beloved “Father,” Roy Dotrice. I had been a fan of his for many years, dating back to his role in the British musical “Tom Brown’s School Days”, which I saw in the early ‘70’s during one of my first trips to England. Many years later when I first noticed the publicity for a new tv show, a modern day version of “Beauty and the Beast,” I was immediately intrigued by the idea and then delighted to discover that Roy Dotrice would play a major role. He was perfect in the part, and I can’t imagine anyone else giving life to that complex character as flawlessly as he did.

Living close to New York City, I was very fortunate to be able to see Mr. Dotrice perform brilliantly in two plays on Broadway, Pinter’s “The Homecoming” and O’Neill’s “A Moon for the Misbegotten.” Both were amazing experiences that I’ll never forget. He was truly mesmerizing in both roles, conveying subtle layers of deep emotion far beyond outward appearances, and in both he truly stole the show, seemingly effortlessly, drawing the rapt focus of his audiences.

Almost equally amazing for me on a personal level, was having the opportunity to talk briefly with Mr. Dotrice about both performances. At the Austin con, only my second attendance at an annual con, I was taking my turn at our dealer’s table when a friend ran in and told me to get to the hotel lounge – NOW! I was just in time to catch the last fifteen minutes of Mr. Dotrice’s presentation, readings of various poetry and prose pieces, including “A Child’s Christmas in Wales.”  He was seated in a comfortable chair in front of a fireplace and obviously taking great enjoyment in the readings. With only a little imagination, it was almost as if we all were sitting in Father’s chambers in the tunnels, hearing him read for the enjoyment of the community Below.

Several minutes later, I was heading for the elevators to return to our room to get ready to go home, and much to my surprise when I got on the elevator, there were the Dotrices, just as pleasant and polite as you would hope they would be. I had seen “The Homecoming”  about eight months earlier, and I so wanted to say something to him about it. I am basically quite shy, but I knew this would be my only chance, and I mumbled something about how wonderful his performance had been and how he had made his character so terrifying and repulsive and yet compellingly attractive at the same time. He grinned and thanked me for the comments and patted me on the arm, saying he was so glad I had enjoyed the play, but he was sorry that he had terrified me. Seconds later, as I was about to get out at my floor, they invited me to come up and join a group of people with whom they were having tea. My flight was leaving in a few hours and I said I couldn’t go.  Yes, I know, totally insane on my part. Let’s just chalk it up to my state of shock that this whole incident had taken place at all.

Many years later at another con, and I’m sorry but I can’t member which one it was, Mr. Dotrice was making the rounds of the tables at the banquet, graciously and patiently stopping and talking to anyone who wished to speak with him. Once again, I somehow found the courage to speak up and tell him how much I had admired his performance in “A Moon for the Misbegotten” and to congratulate him on the Tony Award he had so deservingly received a few months earlier. As always, he was very modest and self-effacing, and almost seemed uncomfortable with the praise. I kept insisting how fantastic he was in the role, and he kept telling me no no no he wasn’t all that wonderful in it. It was the nicest argument I’ve ever had!

As I’m sure many other people have already said, Mr. Dotrice was always so charming and patient and kind to us at the cons. He spent a great deal of time just hanging out and talking, and his presentations, whether readings or reminiscences, were always so enjoyable and brilliantly done, straight from the heart, with humor, warmth, and grace. As one of the original founding mothers of CABB, I had for years participated in all aspects of our charity auctions, held in the dealers’ room at the cons.  We typically asked the various actors and creative people involved with B&B to help us out by autographing items, photos, etc. so that we could raise money for our designated charities. Mr. Dotrice was always one of the first to respond and could not have been more kind and helpful.

His passing leaves a void no one could dream of filling, but the memory of our experiences with him will never fade. As Father said, “Even the greatest darkness is nothing so long as we share the light.” Thank you, Mr. Dotrice, for sharing your light with all of us.