Derek Jacobi

In I, Claudius (1976), Derek Jacobi holds our attention without trying to outshout the family around him. His intelligence makes the complicated connections easy to follow, because we have someone worth watching at their centre. We warmed to Claudius because Jacobi lets vulnerability show without losing the sense of an alert mind at work. Brian Blessed’s Augustus, Margaret Tyzack’s Antonia and Patrick Stewart’s Sejanus remain distinct personalities around him, so the intrigue never becomes a list of names.

That breakthrough television lead was followed by substantial screen roles and smaller parts, with Shakespeare continuing on stage. Kenneth Branagh became a frequent collaborator from the late 1980s. Cadfael (1994), with Jacobi as Brother Cadfael, offered another quiet television lead. In films, Gracchus in Ridley Scott’s Gladiator (2000) became a role he returned to in Gladiator II (2024). We found the sequel handsome and rarely dull, but it is not where we would begin with an actor whose appeal depends on having time to notice what he does.

His precision can become mannered in lighter comedy, a risk apparent in Vicious (2013–16). It finds a more useful purpose in Richard Eyre’s Allelujah (2023), where his Ambrose has a schoolmaster’s contempt for other people’s sentences. The character’s fussiness gives that careful delivery something specific to express. The acting is the chief reason to watch this uneven ward comedy, though our stronger praise belongs to David Bradley’s difficult Joe and Bally Gill’s attentive Valentine.

The reservation about theatricality is worth keeping even with I, Claudius: some performances lean towards the stage, and the sets have aged. Its 12 episodes allow time to recognise individual voices and notice how much hostility there is in the polite exchanges. We would rather spend that time with Jacobi’s Claudius than choose a film merely because his name is in the cast. Start there if listening closely is part of the pleasure of watching.