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Sam Neill Reflects on Life, Career, and Animal Companions in His Last Interview
In what marks his final conversation with readers, the beloved actor shares candid thoughts spanning decades of filmmaking, personal relationships with animals, and his journey from Nigel to Sam.
Living Like a Dog: Lessons from Dean Spanley
When asked whether he sought professional guidance before embodying a canine character in Dean Spanley, Neill offered a surprisingly straightforward response. He explained that his understanding of dogs came naturally through years of observation, both conscious and unconscious. Having maintained canine companions throughout his life, he confessed that comprehending dogs proves easier than understanding fellow humans.
“I had a Staffy for 15 years. They are the most expressive of dogs – every flicker of guilt or pleasure is written all over their faces.”
That particular dog, a rescue named Fire, became something of a legend on set. Neill recounted how the animal would react dramatically to departures, plunging into despair at the sight of packed luggage. Upon his return, Fire would deliberately ignore him as a form of punishment, leaving the actor wondering whether forgiveness would ever come. The dog’s name presented its own challenges—while perfectly functional at home, shouting “Fire!” in public spaces sounded rather desperate.
Flying between New Zealand and Australia with Fire proved expensive, with cage transportation costing more than the human passengers. Airport staff once made a memorable announcement: “Flight 8497 to Queenstown is delayed. Sam Neill’s dog has taken a shit in the back.” The incident became something of a running joke among ground crew.
Robin Williams: A Friend and a Phenomenon
Neill’s memories of working alongside Robin Williams in Bicentennial Man reveal both professional admiration and personal affection. After nearly three decades, watching the film again on Netflix brought back vivid recollections of seeing himself as a younger man, with his hair artificially greyed for the role.
“His constant humour was almost an affliction – he couldn’t help it.”
The actor described Williams as someone who required hours simply to reach the set, greeting every crew member by name among the two hundred or so people involved. Yet beneath the perpetual cheerfulness lay something deeper. Neill noted that explanations for Williams’ death never fully captured the profound sadness he carried, a quality visible during quiet moments when they rehearsed lines together in the trailer before stepping outside to transform into the life of the party.
Special Effects Versus Pure Tension
Comparing his experiences in Jurassic Park against Dead Calm, Neill found both approaches demanding in different ways. The dinosaur film offered visual spectacle through Stan Winston’s enormous puppet creatures, complemented by emerging CGI technology. He particularly cherished the T-Rex sequences, noting how dozens of operators controlled the beast during the famous sunroof attack scene.
Interestingly, Neill admitted feeling more protective of the dinosaur than the children. The mechanical T-Rex occasionally lunged too aggressively, dislodging half a dozen teeth and requiring the “dinosaur dentist” to perform repairs. His signature glasses removal gesture during moments of astonishment, he explained, was entirely his own invention—Spielberg never requested it, though Neill found it counterintuitive to remove sunglasses when staring upward into bright skies.
Villains and Farm Life
Neill expressed genuine enjoyment in portraying antagonists, particularly Major Campbell in Peaky Blinders, whose character possessed a deeply sad dimension that earned the actor’s sympathy. This contrasts with his lack of compassion for powerful figures currently occupying positions of authority worldwide.
His farm has become a menagerie of celebrity-named animals. Helena Bonham Carter, now a cow with sixteen calves, remains enthusiastic about her status. Amy Adams the pig, despite not being particularly photogenic, earned her name during a visit from the actress. Michael Fassbender, the rooster, provides morning entertainment despite his current limp—a detail Neill finds ironic given his habit of referring to him as “my big cock.”
“Changing it has been the best decision I’ve ever made. Now there is – God save us – the vague prospect of one of the worst Nigels ever becoming prime minister.”
Finally, Neill reflected on his decision to abandon his birth name, Nigel, calling it the finest choice of his life. He concluded with characteristic warmth: “I’d like to think that, in life, I’m a goodie.”
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