Eileen Atkins

Eileen Atkins

  • Born: 1934-6-16
  • Birthplace: Clapton, London, England, United Kingdom
  • Height: 5' 6½" (1.69 m)
  • Profession: Actor, screenwriter
  • Nationality: U.K
  • Representative Works: All the time, Paddington2, Vanity Fair
  • Eileen June Atkins (Eileen Atkins), born on June 16, 1934 in Clapton, London, England, is a British film and television actress and screenwriter [1]  . The main works are " Padington2 ".

    Performing Experience

    In 1959, he starred in his first TV series " Hida Rethwise ", and played the supporting role Maggie Clayhanger   .
    In 1968, starred in his personal screen debut "Inadmissible Evidence", playing the supporting role Shirley in the film   .

    Personal Life

    family situation
    Her father Arthur Atkins (1886-1975) was a gas meter reader and mother Anne Elkins (1889-1984), a seamstress and bartender   .
    marital status
    In 1957, he married actor Julian Glover and divorced in 1966. On February 2, 1978, he married actor Bill Shepherd . On June 24, 2016, her husband died   .
    Extended Reading
    • Meggie 2022-07-05 19:29:14

      A master of facial expressions

      Looking at Burton's acting skills from this group of photos, Burton's acting skills do not need to rely on video to rely on moving pictures to show, just like Burton never needs tears to express pain and sorrow, he refuses to act in tears because he does not need to be like other actors. Relying on...

    • Kimberly 2022-07-05 19:26:02

      When the water is clear, there are no fish

      A bit of an incomprehensible movie.

      The teenager escaped the hypocritical and rigid dogma of his parents and found the horse, but after finding that he was not "pure" enough, he could only kill the god/horse, and fell into chaos in order to escape without a way out. The doctor takes it as his duty...

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    Equus quotes

    • Martin Dysart: Three weeks a year, in the Mediterranean. Every bed booked in advance. Every meeting paid for with vouchers. Cautious George and hired cars. Suitcase, crammed with kaopectate. What a fantastic surrender to the primitive! And the primitive, I use that word endlessly. Ah, the primitive world, I say, what instinctual truths were lost with it?

    • Martin Dysart: While I sit there, baiting that poor, unimaginative woman, with a word, that freaky boy is trying to conjure the reality. I look at pages of centaurs, trampling the soil of Argos and outside my window that boy is trying to become one in a Hampshire field. I sit there, night after night, watching that woman knitting, a woman I haven't kissed in six years! And he stands for an hour in the dark, sucking the sweat off his god's hairy cheek. Then, in the morning, I put away my books on the couch or shelf, close up my Kodachrome snaps of Mount Olympus, touch my reproduction statue of Dionysus, for luck, and go off to the hospital to treat - him - for insanity.