“Shortly after my baby was born, a bottle of champagne came from Alan”: Readers remember Alan Rickman | film

He pointed to my wife and laughed.

One of the highlights of my late wife’s life was Alan Rickman. Returning to university in Manchester in the mid-1990s for a new semester, she was trying on a huge suitcase full of books (she spoke English). When she was able to put this thing on, she had a balance error, so she fell backwards and lay on the platform, shaking her arms and legs like an upside-down turtle, unable to move.

Alan Rickman came, clearly intending to take the same train. He stopped, pointed at her, and laughed before taking the stage. She never felt like it was rough, and she even played a part in some of the station’s impromptu art shows. TerryHFS

“One of the greatest and baddest villains ever.”

He was one of the greatest and most evil villains ever seen on screen in Die Hard, the opposite of course of the real Alan Rickman on screen, and perhaps the most extraordinary – and most deserving – death scene of any villain.

At a tribute a few years later to Bruce Willis, Rickman appeared with his head covered in bandages, and on crutches or something to show that his character had somehow survived (he must have landed on a pillow or something), which sums up his gentle sense of humor. He’s still missing a lot. JFBridge

“He has mastered silence on screen.”

One quality I always felt Alan Rickman had was that no matter what role he was playing, you could almost hear what his characters were thinking outside of the lines they were saying. He has mastered silence and staring at the screen. The gift

“Wonderful human being”

What a strange irony that such a wonderful human being would be remembered primarily as a cinematic villain, but I can’t think of another actor who enjoyed these roles as much as he did. Most movie stars want to be liked too much to play with the conviction Alan brought. He didn’t need our worship – he had clearly had enough of that from his friends. How08

“Incredibly knowledgable”

I met him once. Not a humble brag. But it was an amazing encounter with a wonderfully attractive man. I was a lowly employee of the Arts Council (as we were called then – this is 2003, I think). I was invited to an after-show party at the Barbican after a Richard Maxwell play (I think it might have been requested by Drummer Wanted). It wasn’t a star-studded affair – just a few dozen theater nerds excited to see another great experience at the theater.

I remember standing alone with a glass of wine when Alan Rickman introduced himself and asked me what I thought of the play. For the next half hour, we talked about our shared love of experimental theater practices – Forced Entertainment, Wooster Group, Lone Twin, etc.

He was passionate about it all, incredibly knowledgeable, keen to hear my ideas, happy to learn, and in no hurry. It was only 30 minutes but I still remember it clearly 25 years later. And that voice… com. theatredavid

“Keep sssssstichesssssssssmall!”

I’ve loved Alan Rickman ever since I saw him as the preposterous Sheriff of Nottingham in Robin Hood. My sister and I (both young teenagers at the time) have imitated his lines in this movie for ages (“And keep the sssssstichessssss sssssmall!”). Later I saw him in some other things and always found him beautiful: a graceful man with a kind of sadness and intelligence in his expression. It is wonderful to read how much he was loved by those who knew him personally. kastachicory

“It’s hard to believe that this was Hans Gruber’s first film role.”

It’s still very hard to believe that Hans Gruber was his first movie role. Yes, he had years of theatrical experience, but acting in a film, Mamoul, was completely different. The gusto with which he delivers a role that sometimes consists of three roles at once – a German thief pretending to be a German terrorist and an American businessman – is impressive enough, but so are small details like the hyper-subtle way he makes a small grammatical error when explaining how he watched his father make models. Chris Rogers

“A real gent”

I had the pleasure of working with Alan Rickman when he directed The Winter Guest at West Yorkshire Playhouse. I was just a lowly assistant stage manager, so there was no reason to recognize me, but he did and it was appreciated. After the show opened, he came back before it was over for everyone to see and found me setting up the show. “Hi Simon, how are you?” He said. My name isn’t Simon but ASM has a habit of forgetting so I didn’t correct him. He let go of me and then did one of the best double re-entries not caught on camera – “John! Oh my God, I’m so sorry!! I called you Simon!!” He was really terrified! A month later – long after the show had moved to London – my first child arrived, quickly followed by a bottle of champagne and a card from Alan. He asked the company manager to tell him when the baby would arrive. He was a true gentleman and a pleasure to know, even for a short time. Melheny