Patrick Stewart Never Took His Gravitas for Granted, Even When He Was Subverting It

The English actor, who died Thursday, could take command of a scene with a single syllable. But he didn't stop there, rewarding audiences who followed him everywhere.

No one is ever upset, or even disappointed, when Sir Patrick Stewart pops up onscreen. Whether he’s the umpteenth cameo in a Marvel movie or a surprise addition to a sprawling Super Bowl commercial, the master of Shakespeare and generational captain is always greeted by audiences with eager anticipation, if not outright glee.

But Stewart, who died Thursday afternoon from Alzheimer’s disease and Lewy body dementia, didn’t treat his warm regard as a given. He saw the respect he earned throughout his towering career as an opportunity for what to do next — not for easy paychecks from familiar parts, but to push himself into new territory and delight audiences all over again.

Perhaps that’s why when I heard of his passing, my first memory was from one of his lesser-seen roles. “Blunt Talk” was a hot commodity when Starz picked it up in 2014. Seth MacFarlane (who worked with Stewart on “Family Guy,” “American Dad,” and “Ted”) was producing, and Stewart was starring as a past-his-prime British news anchor attempting to start anew in America. The premium cable network gave the comedy, from “Bored to Death” creator Jonathan Ames, a straight-to-series order with a two-season commitment.

And that’s exactly how long it lasted: two, 10-episode seasons, neither of which earned the acclaim or viewership the network expected. Stewart snagged a Golden Globe nomination (his last of three total, following nods for the 2005 TV remake of “The Lion in the Winter” and 1999’s two-episode “Moby Dick” adaptation), but reviews were middling and interest fell off quickly.

I’ll admit: I don’t remember much of the show’s plot, in part because it wasn’t as “grand” as I initially thought. Stewart’s character, Walter Blunt, was a handful — only understood by his trusty valet (Adrian Scarborough), a fellow veteran of the Falklands War, and constantly challenged by his staff, producers, and studio executives. The stubborn lost soul ended up in one preposterous situation after the next, a comedic version of the era’s antihero obsession: a drunk womanizer who virtually no one liked, clinging onto what little respect he had left.

But Stewart was having a ball. He said as much during the show’s press tour, which means next to nothing, but he backed it up in every scene, no matter how ridiculous, no matter how awkward, no matter how trivial. There’s a meta joy to his inebriated Shakespeare riff from the top of a cop car in the premiere. There’s relatable hilarity to his embarrassing battle with no-touch appliances in an airport restroom. There’s pitying chuckles to his childlike dependence on his peculiarly loyal man servant.

Frankly, Stewart brings so much to a series that never lives up to his offerings, but he and it become all the more endearing for the same reason. It would be simple to say “Blunt Talk” left a mark because Stewart got to play outside of his comfort zone; he delighted in subverting the expectations attached to a captain, a professor, and a two-time Olivier Award winner (not to mention a man whose natural baritone commanded gravitas with every syllable), and what few folks who watched him do it got to share in his delight.

But I think why Stewart’s performance in “Blunt Talk” surpasses any other memory of the series — and briefly surpassed any other memory I had of an actor who could do anything (and saw everything) — is because it exemplifies his unique, enduring blend of affability and ability. Patrick was an actor we never tired of seeing (or hearing), even when we had ample reason to assume we’d seen (or heard) this before.

As Picard, Stewart logged well over 200 episodes and led four movies. He revived Charles Xavier across nearly a dozen films (including the upcoming “Avengers: Doomsday”). He voiced Deputy Director Avery Bullock in 125 episodes of “American Dad” (a role he cited as his favorite voice-acting performance). He brought in audiences night after night to see his one-man-show of “A Christmas Carol,” his Tony Award-nominated work in “Macbeth,” and his heralded performances in “The Tempest,” “The Ride Down Mt. Morgan,” “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?”, “Antony and Cleopatra,” and “Hamlet.”

His lifetime of work should feel like plenty, and instead it feels like barely enough. Even his lesser projects now seem like they deserved more. That’s the level of care he brought to the screen, and it’s partly why he’ll be so missed from future screenings.

Sir Patrick Stewart was a man who was easy to like and an actor who was easy to admire. He never took either for granted. Thankfully, we never took him for granted either.