Between Zooming in from her bathtub for an appearance on the Tonight Show, to telling a wild bear to “Get off my lawn,” one could easily say that Helen Mirren is in her IDGAF Era. I think Helen’s IDGAF Era has been… her entire life. She had the chutzpah as a twenty-something to reject advice to get a nose job; clearly her sense of self has always been strong and healthy. She’s promoting her Netflix movie The Thursday Murder Club, with a new engaging profile in The Times. Like her recent People Mag interview, The Times article treads the topic of Helen’s extreme distaste for being called “feisty” or “sweet,” descriptors she views as part of a broader wave of condescension towards seniors that she despises. Then there was this section in the middle that I found really intriguing, where Helen talks about aging (she turned 80 last month, Happy Birthday Dame) and death. “Really Kismet, must you launch us into a holiday weekend with a conversation on death?” Indeed, I must.
Is turning 80 what she expected? “You know, my mum said something very wise to me many years ago. She said: ‘Never be afraid of getting older. An amazing thing happens. When you’re 18 the thought of being 35 is horrific. And you get to 35 and it’s actually a lot better than being 18. And when you’re 35 the thought of being 55 … Then you hit 55 and you realise there are great things about being 55. Your life has moved on, you lose certain stuff but you gain other stuff.’ That’s certainly the case for me.”
Her father, Basil, who anglicised his name from Vasily after moving to England from Russia — he changed the family name from Mironoff to Mirren after his three children were born — died when he was 67. “He wasn’t young, but I would have loved to have had him around longer.” Her English mother, Kathleen, lived to 87. “So she had a very long life. She was very active, absolutely living life normally until almost the very end.
“As you travel through life you realise death is absolutely part of life. And it’s always tragic and it can happen when you’re young.” Her younger brother, Peter, died in 2002, aged 54, of skin cancer. Her stepson, Rio Hackford, died of cancer in 2022, aged 51. “You can lose friends to terrible accidents. You can lose friends to self-inflicted things. You can lose friends to dysfunctions or diseases.”
She is dubious of fighting the inevitable. “The tech bros think their billions are somehow going to hold back time. They haven’t learnt my mum’s lesson. It’s a natural wave of life that has been going on for billions of years and it’s beautiful to be part of that wave. It’s what humanity is all about in the end. So it’s important not to wimp out. You’re not going to be 30 when you’re 50. You’re just not.”
Not everything about being 80 thrills her. “The hardest part is the condescension. It really annoys me. If my husband and I are holding hands, someone might say, ‘Oh, look. How sweet.’ It’s like, excuse my language, ‘F*** off.’ There’s something very condescending about some people’s attitudes and I think they think they are being kind and generous. But they’re not. They’re being insulting.”
To be candid, I think part of why this section struck me so much right now is that I just marked two years since my father’s passing, and he happened to pass on his birthday which adds a whole extra layer of big feelings to the day. (All that summer he said “I want one more birthday,” and in the end my mother and I were just so darn proud of him that he achieved that goal as his final act.) So hearing Helen’s comment that “death is absolutely a part of life,” resonated with me. As did Helen taking us through her mother’s advice on aging. Generally I don’t think I ever long for returning to a younger age, but mainly because I feel like every bit of emotional / spiritual / practical / existential progress I make as a human is so flippin’ hard won — through LOTS of stumbling! So the idea of backtracking is frightening, even if looking in the mirror is too sometimes.
Finally, may I lead us all in a global manifestation that we somehow trap get all those f–king tech bro billionaires in a room with Dame Helen. She would eviscerate them, with very little effort and no ill will, just a stern arch of the eyebrow that says, “Enough with the nonsense,” and “Stop wimping out.” Time to put on our bearable shoes and deal with the fact that we’re all getting older!
Photos credit: Getty and Getty images for Netflix
@Kismet I’m sorry about your dad. I lost my dad last year, and it still feels oddly surreal, as if he’s still here but also not here. It’s hard to explain. In a little spot of kismet (sorry!), my grandmother died on her 93rd birthday, after telling us all multiple times that she “just wanted to make it to 93.” Death truly is part of life, and as I get older I find myself fearing death less and less.
I hate to say it but yes, she looks awesome for 80.
Once you give yourself permission to wilth away, you will be dead soon. If you have stamina to enjoy life, your life will be wonderful even as an older person. Our world celebrates and admires youth and has to disrespect the seniors. As if the entire journey from birth to the end can’t be valuable and wonderful. This is a bizarre world. I adore Helen Mirren. I am happy her mother told her that, what a gift to give your daughter. Dame Mirren is stunning, inside out. Enjoy getting older, everyone.
God I love her — she truly has no effs to give. I’m heading rapidly towards my 73rd birthday and battling a disease that will get me sooner rather than later, but am fighting it tooth and nail. So obviously the grim reaper is on my mind. She has the right attitude. I refuse to have botox or laser or anything other than healthy skin care, sunscreen, exercise and good nutrition.