Our Five Favourite Moments From Lord Richard Attenborough

The cinematic world has lost one of the 20th century's true icons in the passing of Richard Attenborough, the news of whose death at the age of 90 has spread quickly online overnight.

From his first on-screen appearance 72 years ago, Attenborough ingratiated himself to global audiences both in front of and, later, behind the camera, as both thespian and auteur, in a career that spanned six and a half decades.

In that time, he has been responsible for a veritable grab-bag of memorable moments, and, in honour of his distinguished life and career, we've compiled a short list of some of his standout on-screen efforts — spared no expense.

Brighton Rock (1947)

We'd be remiss to not start at (very near) the start, with Attenborough's breakthrough cinematic performance following an early lauded run in the theatre and a handful of minor movie roles. His turn as teen thug Pinkie Brown in the 1947 film noir Brighton Rock established the young actor as a dramatic talent bound for greatness, though it was a role that arguably was as much as curse as it was a blessing, as he then found himself cast in similar brutishly street-savvy roles until the mid-1950s, when the call of comedy came beckoning, which saw him bring the laughs in mid-century efforts such as Private's Progress (1956), The Baby And The Battleship (1956), Brothers In Law (1957) and I'm All Right Jack (1959).

The Great Escape (1962)

In the early 1960s, Attenborough would play what would become one of his most iconic and enduring roles, that of Squadron Leader Roger Bartlett in legendary war flick The Great Escape. If you're too young or too disinterested to have seen the film, you're probably still at least peripherally familiar with it — you might recognise the theme song as the soundtrack to Maggie Simpson's daring liberation of the confiscated pacifiers belonging to the infant inmates of Ayn Rand's School For Tots in season four's A Streetcar Named Marge:

That The Simpsons, during its golden age, chose to parody The Great Escape should give you an idea of its relative import among classic-cinema nerds. Although his co-star Steve McQueen would come to be more immediately associated with the film (which thrust him into the upper echelons of fame and fortune), Attenborough's charming and assured Squadron Leader won the hearts of US film-goers, and his appearance here ultimately was the catalyst that saw him break through into the wider consciousness.

the Flight Of The Phoenix (1965)

Before it was a terrible remake starring Dennis Quaid and Giovanni Ribisi, Flight Of The Phoenix first saw life as a big-screen adaptation in 1965 starring Attenborough and fellow screen legend James Stewart — though, to be honest, at the time, it was viewed as not really that much less terrible than its eventual 2004 do-over. And, even if you only watch the trailer, you can kind of see why:

Regardless, like so many old films of questionable quality, it has since taken on a life of its own among movie buffs.  With the benefit of 49 years since its release, the kitschy sensationalism and adventurous pomp and circumstance have unearthed enough value in the film, ironic or otherwise, for the tale of a rag-tag crew of air-crash survivors rebuilding their craft in the middle of the desert under the surreptitious instructions of a model-plane designer to have remained towards the surface of pop-culture awareness.

Jurassic Park (1993)

For modern audiences, Attenborough's performance as kindly if misguided billionaire dinosaur enthusiast John Hammond stands out as one of two of his most memorable performances of the twilight of his career. Despite Hammond's clear awfulness (or possibly just thoughtlessness) as a person — no sane human sends their grandkids on an untested dinosaur tour — Attenborough brought an indelible sense of humanity to the ageing tycoon (who was quite literally watching his life's dream and work being crushed under its own hubris while his descendents were lost in the wilderness with their only protection being a man who thinks neckerchiefs are an OK thing to wear), most astoundingly, and affectingly, after one of the most shamelessly guilt-inducing "buy me" product-placement camera pans in movie history.

Miracle On 34th Street (1994)

The second of the aforementioned standout moments of his later years, Attenborough did more than just play jolly old Saint Nick in the 1994 remake of classic 1947 Christmas film Miracle On 34th Street — for a generation of young movie-watchers, that man damn well was Santa Claus. 

Attenborough brought such warmth, such wisdom, such magic to the role that, every time, by the end of the film, it's impossible to not find yourself wishing a little more than usual that Santa actually was a real guy, because it seems like any world that has that kind of figure living and breathing his way through it would inarguably be a palpably better place.

If you can get through this movie without welling up once — even at the sight of thousands of children's letters vindicating, from the clutches of the courts system, a man who for all intents and purposes is goodness incarnate — then you might want to rethink whatever emotional repression strategy you're using, because it's kind of a heartstring-puller, and the perfect way to remember a man who brought so much joy, for so long, to so many people.