Actor Sam Neill expressed a simple wish for his legacy nearly a year before he died at age 78.
The New Zealand star beloved for his leading role in the “Jurassic Park” films said in an August 2025 interview with The Telegraph, published Wednesday, that he wanted to be remembered for his kindness. Neill, reminiscing on mortality, said this wish was inspired by a painting he owned by Helena Bonham Carter’s mother, Elena Propper de Callejón.
“It is a very sweet watercolor of a funny old thing in a flowery dress and bonnet,” Neill said of the artwork. “At the bottom of the painting is an inscription: ‘But she was kind…’ When I am no longer about, I hope someone will be able to say that about me.”
Neill died suddenly Monday in Sydney, his family confirmed on Instagram.
The actor announced in April that he was in remission after five years of living with cancer due to a new cancer therapy. He battled Stage 3 angioimmunoblastic T-cell lymphoma, a rare and aggressive type of non-Hodgkin lymphoma. Neill was in remission at the time of his conversation with The Telegraph.
After news of Neill’s death spread, his collaborators remembered him for his talent and his kindness — just as he had hoped. Laura Dern, who played Dr. Ellie Sattler opposite Neill’s Dr. Alan Grant in Steven Spielberg’s “Jurassic Park,” wrote, Neill “showed me the depths of loyalty, protectiveness and love always with the driest of wit.”
She continued: “He was a true and noble gentleman, wrapped up in my dream leading man. I will love you forever, Dr. Alan Grant.”
His “Peaky Blinders” co-star Cillian Murphy remembered Neill as “one of the kindest, funniest and gentlest people, and one of the finest actors,” while Nicole Kidman celebrated Neill as “one of the greats.”
Neill appeared in about 150 film and TV productions throughout his career. His notable credits include films “The Hunt for Red October,” “The Piano” and “Evil Angels” and shows “The Tudors” and “Apples Never Fall.”
For The Telegraph, Neill also discussed his humble upbringing, how he felt his acting career had been a “complete fluke” and his perspective on life amid his cancer battle.
“I have had the odd brush with cancer, so every day is a bonus these days,” he explained. “Life lesson: never take a single day for granted.”
Rarely would Sam Neill, who died Monday, carry a film on his own, but what he did in several of them, modestly and dependably, was equally as important. His nuanced supporting work allowed some of the greatest actresses of their moment attain their first fireworks. And even though he starred in one of Hollywood’s hugest blockbusters, it takes a certain kind of confidence to share the spotlight with a dinosaur. Here are Neill’s highlights, all worth rewatching for the sake of better appreciating a sophisticated presence often on the sidelines.
‘My Brilliant Career’ (1979)
Sam Neill and Judy Davis in the movie “My Brilliant Career.”
(Michael Ochs Archives / Getty Images)
Gillian Armstrong’s first feature is a landmark of the Australian New Wave and feminist cinema, signaling the arrival of the great Judy Davis and containing the most erotically charged (and quite possibly the longest) pillow fight in movie history. It works splendidly for countless reasons, not the least of which is Neill’s presence as the charming suitor of Davis’ headstrong heroine. Set in 1897 in rural Australia, the film follows Davis’ Sybylla, who dreams of becoming a writer, an unconventional aspiration given her family’s poverty and societal norms. Then she meets a wealthy charmer, played by Neill, and he proposes. It should be an easy decision, particularly since Sybylla loves him and Neill makes him so irresistible. That Sybylla does, in fact, resist, choosing independence over love and the possibility of perennial pillow fights, makes “My Brilliant Career” so daring and thrilling. — Glenn Whipp
‘Possession’ (1981)
Isabelle Adjani and Sam Neill in the movie “Possession.”
(Metrograph Pictures)
It’s being remade with Margaret Qualley and the main reason for the movie’s notoriety remains Isabelle Adjani’s unhinged, incantatory performance, a collection of freak-outs that’s still unmatched. But one can argue that Adjani couldn’t have gotten there without the slightly milquetoast banality of her character’s husband, played by Neill as one of the least exciting on-screen spies of the 1980s. (She’s already cheating on him when the movie begins.) He doesn’t seem cut out to be a family man either, but Neill’s cuckolded complaining, hard to pull off this confidently, may be what’s driving her to self-harm in the first place. — Joshua Rothkopf
‘The Final Conflict’ (1981)
More than a decade before his “Jurassic Park” role, Neill delivered a chilling turn as the Antichrist in “The Final Conflict,” better known as the third film in “The Omen” franchise, about a couple that unwittingly adopts the son of Satan. In this second sequel, Neill plays an adult Damien Thorn, now a U.S ambassador to the United Kingdom who is determined to stop the second coming of Christ. With sinister smiles and steely glares, Neill makes Damien his own, waging a murderous campaign against a group of priests, his voice dripping with contempt as he vows to slay “the Nazarene” when he is born. — Greg Braxton
‘Dead Calm’ (1989)
Sam Neill and Nicole Kidman on the set of the movie “Dead Calm.”
(Michael Ochs Archives / Getty Images)
We remember Philip Noyce’s claustrophobic cat-and-mouse thriller primarily as Nicole Kidman’s big-screen breakthrough. But, and you may be noticing a theme here, the movie would not work without Neill, who had a gift for playing opposite strong-minded women. Kidman and Neill are a married couple embarking on an ocean adventure to work through the loss of their child. They happen upon a crazy-eyed stranger (Billy Zane) on a sinking schooner, take him aboard and things go south from there. Part Cary Grant, part MacGyver, Neill gives a great physical performance, which he parlayed into well-paying Hollywood action roles for the rest of his career. None came close, though, to his flare-gun theatrics here. — Glenn Whipp
‘Jurassic Park’ (1993)
You go for the dinosaurs and there’s no shame in that. But credit Neill for both understanding the assignment and not quite settling for those awed stares of Spielbergian wonder. His Alan Grant is distinct enough to register as prickly and a little inside himself. He absolutely hates children, even as the whole plot, somewhat obviously, steers him in the opposite direction. He’s not Jeff Goldblum-level rascally, but he’s confident enough to go his own way and make a killer joke at a high-voltage fence. Acting-wise, Neill has already held his own opposite several forces of nature (see above). Raptors were nothing. — Joshua Rothkopf
‘The Piano’ (1993)
Sam Neill in the move “The Piano.”
(The Criterion Collection)
So many of Neill’s most memorable movies feature him supporting the singular vision of great directors, as is the case with Jane Campion’s 1993 landmark. Neill plays the awkward, ignorant Scottish farmer who arranges for a mail-order marriage with Holly Hunter’s mute pianist and then becomes possessive and driven to jealous despair. We hate him. Which was fine by Neill, as he wrote in his 2023 memoir: “There is honour to be found in the second fiddle. Or fourth. No one notices you much, you don’t get nominated for things. But you served. I was there in an important feminist film. It’s a work of art. And look, that tiny little figure in the fabric — see down there on the right — that’s me. It’s a film that will always have a place in cinema history. And I served in it.” — Glenn Whipp
‘In the Mouth of Madness’ (1994)
Finally, a leading role. Granted it’s one in which Neill, strapped in a straitjacket, screams things like “I’m not insane!” But if you’re a fan of his brand of slightly unconvinced heroism, John Carpenter’s horror movie — about an insurance investigator on the hunt for a missing Stephen King-like author — is an enjoyable watch. Carpenter was never one to overexplain things to his actors (it’s why you find so many rich, self-directed performances in his movies) and Neill’s snoop definitely goes through the looking glass, from disbelieving cynic to true believer. Genre movies thrive on his kind of total commitment. — Joshua Rothkopf
