Mourning Alan Rickman: It’s not complicated

On January 14^th, I woke up to a slew of notifications on my phone. Two friends had re-shared on Facebook an old picture a few of us had taken with Alan Rickman at the stage door after seeing him perform in Seminar in January 2012. Another couple of friends had messaged me condolences, saying they just heard about Alan Rickman. Heard what? was my first panicked thought, even though I already knew the only logical answer. I went online and clicked around. The same thing was everywhere, Facebook posts, news articles: RIP Alan Rickman. Alan Rickman dead at 69. 

I’ve followed Alan Rickman’s career closely for over a decade, watching not only his films but also attending his theater performances in New York and viewing my fair share of interviews with him on YouTube. The first time I met him was in 2008, at a screening of Bottle Shock, his most recent film at that time. In the question and answer session that followed, I sat spellbound as he spoke about the film and his career. I was completely starstruck that first time, finding it hard to believe that the man I had so long admired was sitting only a few feet away from me, making occasional eye contact with members of the audience, including me.

Over the next couple of years, I saw him a few more times: when he was directing The Creditors at the Brooklyn Academy of Music (BAM) in 2010; when he starred in John Gabriel Borkman, also at BAM, in 2011; and when he came to Broadway for the comedy Seminar in 2012. Each time, I waited at the stage door after the show to thank him for the meaningful work he’d been doing. And each time, he was gracious and kind, giving me his full attention for those few minutes, unlike the many other actors who would hurriedly sign the Playbills their fans thrust at them and then walk away. But Alan Rickman was never like that. Even at the culmination of a long and successful career, he was always down-to-earth and genuine with his fans. Part of the excitement of seeing him live became the opportunity to speak to him after the show.

The last time I saw him was eight months ago, again at BAM. He and I both happened to be attending a performance of Ibsen’s Ghosts that day (an intense, masterful production), and the main thought I remember passing through my head when I saw him was I hope he’ll be back on the stage here soon. I didn’t know that I would never see him on a stage again.

After his death, I was disturbed when I noticed a number of posts and comments appearing on Facebook, declaring that Rickman was an anti-Semite and therefore does not deserve to be mourned. In fact, I was downright horrified. In some cases, these comments were left in response to my friends’ posts that expressed sorrow at Rickman’s death. Out of nowhere, these commentators would write, “But Alan Rickman was an anti-Semite!” Or, “Didn’t you hear about that play he produced?”

They offered no actual evidence to back up what was a fairly controversial claim. Titles like “anti-Semite” should not be thrown around lightly without conclusive evidence. Accusing people of anti-Semitism at the least provocation is counterproductive; it only reveals a narrow-minded, paranoid view of the world, in which anti-Semitism is lurking under the surface everywhere, just waiting to get out.

Of course, as a Jewish fan of Alan Rickman, I couldn’t ignore the controversy stirred up by his involvement in producing the play My Name is Rachel Corrie — the source of the accusations of anti-Semitism. My Name is Rachel Corrie is a play based on the personal writings of Rachel Corrie, a young American pro-Palestinian activist who was killed in 2003 by an IDF bulldozer while acting as a human shield to protest the destruction of a Palestinian building. Israeli courts ruled her death an accident. Alan Rickman and Katharine Viner worked together to edit Corrie’s writings, including her diary entries and emails to family and friends. For the script, they used nothing but Corrie’s own words. Rickman directed the play for the first time on a London stage in 2005 before attempting to bring the production to New York.

For the Jewish community, the creation of this play became the origin for the “Alan Rickman is an anti-Semite” myth — and I say “myth” because too many people were ready to believe that based on very scant evidence. But I didn’t want to believe something without knowing the full facts, so I investigated. Although I hadn’t been able to see the actual show, and have only been able to read the script and see snippets of the production online, I did find plenty of articles and videos in which Alan Rickman discussed the play and his intentions in directing it. When I concluded my research, I felt quite satisfied that Rickman’s involvement in My Name is Rachel Corrie had zero anti-Semitic or anti-Israel undertones. On the contrary, one of the things I noticed throughout all the interviews was his consistent neutrality on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

Erika Dreifus, in an article for Tablet, expressed her ambivalence regarding Rickman due to his involvement in My Name is Rachel Corrie. Dreifus brought up Rachel Corrie’s personal politics and the ways in which they’ve been used by others as propaganda, connecting it to the discomfort she felt about Alan Rickman.

He did edit and direct My Name is Rachel Corrie, but this one line on his long and impressive resume was not a political statement, no matter how much some might want to read into it. Perhaps in this instance it is best to let Alan Rickman speak for himself. When I was going through all the materials I could find online about his involvement with and attitude toward the play, one quote in particular stood out for me. In a 2006 interview from the Edinburgh Festival, Rickman was asked about how he’d constructed and presented the character of Rachel Corrie. He responded, “Every word of it is hers, and it’s never been a polemic. The only instruction I had from her parents, if it’s an instruction, or a wish — was, whatever you do, don’t put her on a pedestal, because she wasn’t like that. And I think that’s the point, you know. As brave as she is, she’s naïve. As hopeful as she is, she’s disappointed. I think her youth is what everybody should relate to, and it certainly isn’t meant to be any kind of piece of propaganda.”

In presenting Rachel Corrie’s story, Rickman presented a character who speaks for herself, whose flaws and naiveté are on stage for all to see. Corrie isn’t meant to be a hero. Rickman himself made it clear repeatedly that the play was not meant to make a political statement or choose a side in the complicated Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

A memorial article in Haaretz following Rickman’s death points out that “in an interview with Haaretz in 2007, Rickman stressed that the play was not an attempt to make a political message. He decided to write and direct it, he said, because of the human situation that Corrie represented and the emotional texts that she wrote.” The article quotes Rickman as saying, “I never imagined that the play would create such acute controversy. Many Jews supported it. The New York producer was Jewish and we held a discussion after every performance. Both Israelis and Palestinians participated in the discussions and there was no shouting in the theater. People simply listened to each other.” Perhaps a little more discussion and listening is just what we need.

Mourning Alan Rickman isn’t complicated. It is just like mourning any other public figure — if you want to and it means something to you, you can, and if you don’t have any interest in doing so, you don’t have to. But after the death of a man who had a prolific career spanning four decades, who has meant so much to thousands of fans, it seems inappropriate to throw around words like “anti-Semite” without bothering to look into it. Alan Rickman was many things, but not that. He was a brilliant, versatile actor who put a lot of thought and deliberation into his work. He could be equally convincing as a villain, a hero, or anything in between. He made audiences laugh and cry and engage with new ideas. His work made an impact on many lives, including mine. And for all the things he was, I am mourning his passing.

 

Hannah Rozenblat recently graduated from Yeshiva University.