Monday, March 28, 2005

I just heard that Robin Spry died last night.

Robin was a gentleman in show business, a rare thing. He had a long, productive career and suffered some awful blows. He built a major production company only to see it go bankrupt, and then had to suffer the government chasing after him personally for the consequences of bad paperwork. But he kept afloat because everyone respected and liked him. Last I spoke to him, about a week ago, he was awash in writing and producing projects.

Robin was incredibly good to me. He optioned Unseen when I was more or less just starting out in Canada, then proposed me for Galidor, which was my first staffing gig. Then he hired me to create a series for Cinegroupe, Robot City, then pulled me onto Charlie Jade. He was incredibly supportive of my writing at every possible point. I don't know where I'd be without his belief in me, my projects and my craft.

I always worried about him. He seemed a bit frail, a tall old man with frizzy mad scientist hair, hardly bursting with health, but then he was very English -- the word "boffin" came to mind -- and you had the hope he could go on being a bit frail for ever.

He died in a car accident last night at three or four in the morning. I don't know if it was another heart attack or exhaustion. I'm sad at the thought that he was driving at all at three in the morning. He should have been resting on his many laurels.

11:49 AM

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