Jane Campion remembers Sam Neill: “He radiated peace, radiated love.” Sam Neill

Sam. Very handsome, and that’s a rare thing in New Zealand and Australia: a movie star.

In fact, my hands were shaking when I met him at a café in Vulcan Lane, Auckland, to discuss training. He arrived, and we all had to start pre-production on The Piano. He had to play the repressed and violent Stuart, the one who would cut off his wife’s finger. Who else but Sam could play this role, or surprise with this role?

Sam was kind, committed and supportive. He took care of me and everyone in the group. He would stomp through the mud, plan dinners, control me when I was impulsive, and tell me to stop if he thought I was letting the lights get too dark. I loved him as much as Stuart. I can remember gasping as he pulled Holly out [Hunter] He emerged from his hut, through the rain and mud, with a force I had not expected, but I knew immediately that the story was necessary. He already knew that Stuart’s jealousy was terrifying.

Sam and his wife Noriko invited me to their home in Queenstown one summer’s day and showed me the extreme beauty of New Zealand’s southern tip. It was the beginning of my family’s love affair with the south – the lakes, the mountains and the beech forests.

Over time, we trusted each other, shared our life stories, talked like girls, and discussed preparation for the end of life. Part of Sam’s response to his cancer diagnosis was to write a fascinating and entertaining memoir and ask me to check out his piano class. It turns out it was a lonely time for him, but he never showed it, except maybe on screen.

I saw Sam earlier this year with his partner Heather and his friend Grizz. We spent the night at his beautiful winery and celebrated what seemed like impossible good luck; That he is cancer free and can now imagine new chapters. At that time I was struck by the gentleness and calmness that were his grace.

Then just a few months later he was suddenly admitted to St Vincent’s Hospital in Sydney. I fell down with coffee and food. Rachel Ward was there too and we were all joking and talking. The feeling of love intensified inside and around Sam. We didn’t discuss the illness, it just seemed like a waste of good time.

The last time I saw Sam he was still in the hospital. I brought him a small set of watercolors from the Macquarie School of Art shop because he said it was hard to fill the time… He was happy to paint some dreamy sketches. We talked about the amazing Split Enz reunion concert I saw that he followed in audio from his bed. Our farewell was like a kiss, followed by my thanks for coming and taking the trouble. Did we know it would be the last time? I didn’t think about that, and I don’t think he did either.

These past few months, every time I’ve seen Sam, it’s been an intoxicating experience. He radiated peace, and radiated love. He doesn’t seem to care about anything. He was there gently and gracefully – but now he’s not. Thank you for everything Sam. I miss you.