To Sirs, With Love

Yes, there was a bloody Revolutionary War that the rebels won. But Americans have preserved a psychic attachment to Britain and Britons over two centuries, especially those cultured Brits who seem to understand this sometimes rowdy land and spot in it worthy traits often missed by residents. Such were Sir Peter Ustinov and Sir Alistair Cooke. The world lost both this week, Ustinov at 82 and Cooke at 95. Both were sure good talkers, raconteurs of entertaining yarns revealing both themselves and others.

A corpulent, avuncular 6-footer, Ustinov was, often simultaneously, actor, novelist, playwright, director and storyteller with an amazing array of accents he began displaying at age 2, mimicking friends from behind a curtain for his Russian parents. Americans first met him as a quirky Nero in 1951’s “Quo Vadis.” He was a slave trader, Charlie Chan, a Turkish crook, British royalty, symphonic narrator and a Muppets truck driver, winning two Oscars, three Emmys and a Grammy. He was quick too with bon mots. Visiting populous China once to promote his role as the persnickety Belgian detective Hercule Poirot, Ustinov was asked his impression of that country: “So many suspects.” He once said, “Critics search for ages for the wrong word, which, to give them credit, they eventually find.”

Ustinov spoke more than six languages, a great help in his long-running role as goodwill ambassador for UNICEF. But he said his favorite language was laughter, which he never stopped causing.

Cooke was raised in a Blackpool boarding house, educated at Cambridge, changed his name from Alfred and became a U.S. news correspondent for British media. A close student of America, especially revealing minutiae, he began in 1946 a weekly “Letter from America” on BBC Radio. It was an insightful, discursive 14-minute essay articulately explaining like an erudite uncle all things North American to Britons and, via shortwave, the world.

Cooke pioneered a broadcast genre: not reading scripts but telling stories to well-informed friends about Watergate, assassinations, New England autumns.

The program was to last 13 weeks, a long run then. “Letter” ran 58 years until this spring. Cooke missed only three. “Letter” evolved into a TV series, best-selling books and a 22-year stint as the arm-chaired host of “Masterpiece Theatre,” telling stories about the stories viewers would see momentarily. Cooke typed his letter every week in a 15th floor apartment overlooking New York’s Central Park, characteristically detailing in his last letter that he was propped up by three pillows.

Finally, a quick note from the Colonies to both Britons: “Thanks much.”