We still have a lot to learn from Angela Lansbury

When you think of role models, there are probably a number of women who come to mind before Angela Lansbury: women who boldly and sometimes loudly shook things up like Rosie the Riveter, Riot Grrrl rebels, and RBG. Maybe even Miss Piggy, though that could just be me. In contrast, Lansbury, who died in 2022, is associated with cozy Cabot Cove (the setting of her long-running series “Murder, She Wrote”) and tea time as Disney’s Mrs. Potts. But don’t be fooled! In her life and many memorable roles, Lansbury had (and still has) a lot to say about going after what you want as a woman, avoiding stereotypes and living a full life at any age.

As Jessica Fletcher, the mystery-writing amateur sleuth in “Murder, She Wrote,” Lansbury never prejudges. She uses logic, observation and old-fashioned research, sometimes upending stereotypical notions of race and religion as well as gender. Michael Horton, who played her character’s nephew, once explained to me: “Angela was certainly progressive, so no way Jessica was going to be anything but that.” Both the actor and the character were comfortable being complicated individuals and wading through the complexities around them — because after all, problems in life and in good fiction are rarely simple. Only a truly great detective, like Jessica, would be able to figure out in this way that a dog had been trained to kill using a whistle and a motorized gate (Season 1, “It’s a Dog’s Life”).

From the very beginning, Lansbury shaped Jessica and, eventually, as executive producer, her storylines. It’s no surprise then that there’s undeniable overlap between the two.

To solve each mystery, Jessica’s willing to get her hands dirty, literally and figuratively. Sure, sometimes that means contaminating evidence. Gloves? Who needs them! Her world isn’t “Law & Order”; it’s about persistence. When a criminal underestimates her as a “woman of a certain age,” she turns that invisibility into her superpower. At other moments, when authority figures challenge her, she pushes right past them as if they weren’t even there.

As a preteen, it was that displayed strength that first drew me to Lansbury. I discovered “Murder, She Wrote” and immediately fell in love with her character as I watched her confidently write on her typewriter in the opening credits. Here was a woman on her own creating a story about a corpse — and doing it with a smile on her face. I couldn’t get enough. Even better, though, were the many ways she outmaneuvered powerful men in her investigations. She was like David fighting Goliath, but better because I could see myself, or at least who I wanted to be, in her.

It was only later that I learned Lansbury herself had that same grit. When she was young, dealing with the loss of her father and emigration during World War II, and later, when she lost her Malibu home during a 1970 wildfire.

Despite the tragedy at the center of each case, “Murder, She Wrote” episodes regularly end with a freeze-frame close-up, Lansbury mid-laugh. And her joie de vivre was a signature in many other portrayals, including Nellie Lovett in “Sweeney Todd” and Mame Dennis in “Mame,” her breakout Broadway role in 1966. If you need some cheering up, check out her duet with Bea Arthur, “Bosom Buddies,” on YouTube (you’re welcome). And if you need some additional fun, turn to Eglantine Price in the 1971 children’s movie “Bedknobs and Broomsticks”: an independent woman who sings, dances, bewitches suits of armor and saves Britain from a Nazi invasion — all while deigning to consider a romance with a man she definitely doesn’t need.

Of course, Lansbury always looked good too, making it a point to take care of herself — as she publicized in her book and fitness video “Positive Moves.” As Jessica, Lansbury even became a fashion icon (see Murder She Look on Instagram).

For her, aesthetics weren’t about superficial self-regard. They were about backing up how she wanted to feel inside. Sometimes, it was also about projecting confidence or even breaking out of a box society assigned her. After all, at the very start of her career in Hollywood, once she had settled in Los Angeles, Lansbury had to deal with specific notions of feminine beauty. She found herself playing side characters, villains and mothers — never the glamorous romantic lead.

But Lansbury didn’t give in to these misguided ideas of her appearance or her talent just as she never gave into other industry norms, including the conventional place of older women (mostly nowhere). When “Murder, She Wrote” debuted, Lansbury was almost 60. Her career and life are a constant reminder that we can be and do more at any age, whether that involves writing, acting or solving grisly murders.

On the occasion of what would have been Lansbury’s 100th birthday — Oct. 16, 2025 — I celebrate her and her example. Perhaps Lansbury isn’t the most obvious role model or hero — no cape, but instead an adorable blazer, broach and practical pumps. But she fought her way forward in her own way. Sometimes in song. Sometimes quietly. Sometimes over tea. And we can too.

Lily E. Hirsch is a musicologist and the author of “Weird Al: Seriously” and the forthcoming “Nowhere to Go but Up: What Angela Lansbury Can Teach Us About Living a Big Life.”