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Some of Our Favorite Sir Patrick Stewart Roles and Moments
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Some of Our Favorite Sir Patrick Stewart Roles and Moments
We all have a Patrick Stewart story, it turns out.
By Emmet Asher-Perrin, Emmet Asher-Perrin, Emmet Asher-Perrin, Emmet Asher-Perrin, Emmet Asher-Perrin, Emmet Asher-Perrin
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Published on November 6, 2026
Credit: Screenshot, CBS
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Credit: Screenshot, CBS
We all have a Patrick Stewart story, it turns out.
When the news broke of the legendary actor’s passing, Reactor essentially shut down for the day. As befits the staff of a magazine about sci-fi/fantasy books and media, we were stunned, shocked, saddened to hear that he was just… gone. Most of all, we were wistful. And in that we discovered that each of us were holding tightly to a show, a play, a skit, something Stewart had been in, done, or said, that had lodged itself permanently in our identities as people. That is how we should pay tribute to him, we thought. Sharing the most delightful and formative of the many gifts that he gave us; these fruits of a life well-lived. Star Trek is just where it starts…
The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Oblivion was not Sir Patrick Stewart’s first video game voice acting performance. Though many of his earlier video game voice acting jobs saw him reprise his role as Captain Picard, Stewart’s iconic voice lent quite a lot of weight to games that, quite frankly, were not always worthy of his talents.
Oblivion was different. The Elder Scrolls series had previously established itself as a kind of dream experience that allowed you to live out your fantasy… fantasies in a vast and creative world. Oblivion was developer Bethesda’s attempt to bring that experience to a wider audience with slightly more accessible gameplay and, more importantly, enhanced production values. It’s fitting, then, that the first voice players hear in Oblivion is Sir Patrick Stewart as Emperor Uriel Septim VII.
Armed with a 90-page dossier about his character and his place in this world, Stewart delivers a Shakespearean performance that immediately sets a tone and standard that much of the rest of the game’s voice acting wouldn’t quite live up to. Hey, these were rough days for the emerging practice of fully voiced video games. Stewart’s performance helped set a standard for what would rapidly become a much more exciting age for video game voice acting and, perhaps more importantly in the moment, set the stage for what turned out to be every bit the dream fantasy adventure many hoped this game would be.
Dune (1984)
Sir Patrick Stewart has previously shared that he was accidentally cast in Dune. Though he didn’t reveal all the details, it seems that David Lynch thought he had cast someone else in the role. That’s quite remarkable to consider when you try to imagine anyone else having such undeniable gravitas while wielding a pug on a battlefield or teaching someone the art of really bad CGI melee combat.
In a movie that lovingly showcases the consequences of big swings that don’t quite land, Sir Patrick Stewart’s performance as Gurney Halleck simply works. Maybe it’s because of Halleck’s commanding nature in a sci-fi universe, or maybe it’s because Sir Patrick Stewart has looked roughly the same for decades, but it’s hard not to watch him in Dune and see a lot of Jean-Luc Picard. Picard rarely wore form-fitting leather in TNG, though, so you should still watch Dune.
His Extras Cameo
Is it silly that one of Sir Patrick Stewart’s few Emmy nominations came from playing a version of himself in Extras, a show unfortunately created by Ricky Gervais? Yes, yes it is. That’s kind of the great thing about this appearance, though. Stewart was often cast in more dramatic roles or comedic parts that saw him effectively play the straight man. This appearance is an all-too-rare example of what we all know about Stewart from his social media presence: the man was incurably silly.
That inherent silliness, which has arguably helped elevate Stewart throughout his career, is on full display in this incredible cameo. Though best remembered for Stewart sharing his pitch for a story about a man who has the ability to make clothes disappear, the true genius of this appearance arguably comes when Stewart is surprised to learn that an older guy who is unmarried and doesn’t have a girlfriend hasn’t seen Star Trek. “Good Lord,” indeed.
The Salt-N-Pepa SNL Announcement
Though many who follow SNL have long held Sir Patrick’s introduction of musical act Salt-N-Pepa in high regard (how many times can we get away with using the word “gravitas” in this article?), that moment became immortal when John Mulaney shared the story during a stand-up special.
As Mulaney puts it, it’s almost like Stewart wasn’t sure if Pepa was there at all. Such was the thrill of heralding their arrival. In classic Stewart form, the actor embraced the resurgence of that moment on social media in a way that ensured its immortality. That’s maybe my favorite thing about this story and the moment itself. It’s the perfect example of Stewart being accidentally iconic and embracing and celebrating the reception to such moments rather than shying away from them, as other dramatic performers might be tempted to do.
Actually, That Entire Saturday Night Live Episode
I was a little thing and dad loved Star Trek: The Next Generation but I did NOT because that Captain Picard was MEAN* and he looked like teachers who yelled at me. I wasn’t a fan, even though one time I was home sick and got to watch him debate the devil and I was so transfixed it stopped me from throwing up. Regardless, I didn’t want to be around that guy.
*To be fair, Stewart played Picard as a jerk on purpose in the first two seasons. And I have a whole essay somewhere in the dampness of my brain about how hiring Dr. Pulaski is a great example of bad team management. But anyway.
In early February 1994 I was the perfect slightly-too-young age to be allowed to stay up late and watch Saturday Night Live. And who was hosting but that meanie Captain Picard! Except here we was bouncing out with a big uncharacteristic smile, and being very serious about how much he loved “Boney” and “Dr. Spock” on Star Trek, capping it all off with a fumbled Vulcan salute and a “Live long…uh…and be happy!”
I was dying. It was the funniest shit I’d ever heard. From a guy who I had—just a minute ago!—been convinced was a total bastard. It was more than just Stewart proving he was a gifted comedian. That one monologue introduced me to the entire concept of acting. This guy and Captain Picard were the same person? How???
I’ve since flirted with comedy as an adult (you don’t wanna know about it) and have absorbed enough Saturday Night Live to know that Patrick Stewart was incredibly focused throughout his entire episode, and that the whole episode is near-perfect as a result. (Jon Hamm would break out in the same way a decade or two later.) Just listen to that opening monologue. He doesn’t break his Shakespearean cadence even once (well, until he’s supposed to in his closer). He turns on his punchlines with supreme confidence. It’s like watching a bald Steve Martin.
The TNG finale “All Good Things” came out only a few months after this. Then Star Trek: First Contact. Then X-Men. And I got old enough to take his role as Picard seriously. But I’ve never, ever forgotten that expectation-shattering SNL episode. I would watch him do anything after that.
Except watch him make more of his highly specific erotic cakes. No judgment but that life is not for me.
Credit: Screenshot, NBC/Universal
Jeffrey
My first knowledge of Patrick Stewart was probably actually Dune, since I have a blurry memory of being in a dark room that was only lit by a TV playing it—which is objectively the best way to remember that film. But the first time I was truly aware of Patrick Stewart, it was, like a lot of the Reactor crew, through my daily after-school viewing of TNG.
Which is why I was so ecstatic to see him in Jeffrey. Jeffrey is an early ‘90s play-turned-indie-movie, written by Paul Rudnick (the same person who wrote the original draft of Sister Act, Addams Family Values, and In and Out) about a young man named Jeffrey (played in the movie by Steven Weber) who swear off of sex because he’s terrified of AIDs. More specifically, he’s terrified of watching someone he loves die of the disease. (To be clear, this is an often hilarious comedy.) The movie is already good, but when Patrick Stewart shows up as Jeffrey’s friend Sterling, that’s when it really lights up. Sterling starts off as what could be a stereotype the “fabulous gay man”. He works as an interior designer, always has a witty quip at the ready, gives strangers unsolicited fashion advice, and Stewart is delightful playing that. But what makes it work is that he layers the performance to show that Sterling doesn’t care whether anyone thinks he’s a stereotype—he’s moving through the world the way he wants to, and he’s not going to dull himself down for anyone. But this is a play written at a time when drug cocktails were only just starting to hold AIDs at bay for a while. There was no long-term solution then. When Sterling’s HIV-positive partner Darius (Bryan Batt) sickens, and finally dies, he has to live the very thing that Jeffrey’s been so afraid of. Sterling goes from being the effervescent highlight of a comedy, to being the broken heart that has to keep beating anyway. Stewart’s performance shades into a new depth that grounds the whole film as Sterling’s grief, and his anger at Jeffrey for hiding from life, turns a light comedy into a much more resonant look at a particular time in queer life.
The Graham Norton Show Circumcision Story
I’m sorry, but I only really watched Star Trek over my mom’s shoulder when I was little—she was obsessed with the man she referred to as “Captain Baldy”, sorry to Sir Patrick and also sorry to my mom for telling the internet this—so when I think of Sir Patrick, I think primarily of his appearances in John Barton’s Shakespeare acting tapes which I watched during theater class in high school, and also this absolutely unhinged story from the Graham Norton show. There are many great clips of him on this show, and the rest of this particular episode with Hugh Jackman and later Sir Ian is excellent all the way through, but this story takes the cake. Look, we often think of this man as dignity personified—he’s known for his incredible presence, that special gravitas he brings to every role no matter the genre. But here, he’s just a guy goin’ thru it, talking about his junk on telly. I was unprepared to know this much about Sir Patrick’s Sir Patrick, but it’s so goddamn funny, I’m glad he overshared. And his immediate regret after telling it is so good.
I, Claudius (1976)
Credit: Screenshot, BBC
I’m not sure how old I was when I first caught a rerun of I, Claudius on PBS—it was before I was old enough to recognize most of the amazing cast from anything else (though of course, it’s an absolute treasure trove of acting talent, from Derek Jacobi in the title role to the great Sian Phillips, John Hurt, Brian Blessed, and Rocky Horror’s Patricia Quinn giving wildly memorable performances). As young as I was, I was absolutely hypnotized by this strange fever dream of court politics, plotting, betrayal, and murder—it was a formative experience, to say the least (is there anything better than a juicy historical drama done well?)
And right in the middle of everything, the one actor I did recognize (in spite of a rather famous wig), was Patrick Stewart as the treacherous and doomed Sejanus, who more than holds his own among the hissing, mugging, and high-class scenery-chewing that makes the series such a delight. It was apparently this role that led to David Lynch casting Stewart in Dune, and Stewart is so magnetic as a scheming villain that it’s well worth seeking out I, Claudius—fifty years later, and it’s still one of the wildest, most fascinating adaptations ever produced by the BBC, and I love it.
Incidentally, I only got to see Patrick Stewart on stage once, in the 2008 Broadway run of MacBeth, but it was a revelation. Stewart, Kate Fleetwood, and the rest of the cast managed to mine a surprising amount of dark humor out of the horrors unfolding, which I’d only ever imagined as straightforward tragedy—apparently, there’s a 2010 film version of that production, for anyone who might be interested in yet another tour de force Stewart performance.
The Alphabet Song
There are plenty of excellent outtake reels from Star Trek: The Next Generation, which are always good for a laugh when you need it. But the best out-of-character moment comes from a little birthday message our beloved captain recorded for Gene Roddenberry’s birthday—The Alphabet Song, complete with a hat and cane, and a little dance. I can never decide whether this or the Sesame Street B soliloquy deserves the top spot in his alphabet performances. Because he has more than one.
“Goodnight, Sweet B”
Oh hey sorry while we’re talking about the alphabet…
Wonderful! Wonderful!
The Nightmare Before Christmas Monologues
At the opening of The Nightmare Before Christmas, there’s half a poem leading us in to the action, read by Ed Ivory, the very same actor who voices Santa Claus. It’s a slightly odd choice because Ivory is putting on a very different tenor in the narration, making it clear that this isn’t meant to be Santa narrating, but a sort of strange omniscient party who never shows up again. Santa was meant to finish the poem at the end of the film, but this was scrapped.
Instead, the full opening and closing poems were recorded for the film’s soundtrack—and Patrick Stewart was brought on board to do the bracketing narration. The performance contains all the gravitas that’s missing from the actual film, and the monologues themselves contain a little extra information. The closing monologue in particular arguably changes the entire emotional arc of the film: The Narrator (presumably Santa) asks Jack, years down the line, if he’d repeat the film’s plot, knowing how the whole thing would turn out. And Jack, with a house full of kids, presumably still partnered to the love of his undead life “smiled like the old Pumpkin King that I knew / then turned and asked softly of me …Wouldn’t you?”
With a weighted reading of rhymed couplets, delivered as only he could, Patrick Stewart fundamentally changed the entire point of the narrative. Rather than the story of how one lucky skeleton got something great out of a midlife crisis that he roped his entire community in on, the end thought is simply: This was worth it. Seeking out your happiness, learning something new, prodding at the places in your life where there are missing pieces. It was chaos, and the chaos was needed. You are worthy of discovery, however inconvenient.
“Someone has come along.”
There are reams of thought in the X-Men fandom that direct the reader toward the gleeful statement that “Professor X is a jerk!” After all, Charles Xavier does spend a lot of time hamstringing some of his most powerful cohort and trying to break bread with oppressors who are happy to erase people like him from existence. The tension between Professor X and Magneto exists for a reason, and Xavier has done some truly heinous things in service of his own mission, if you read comics or enjoy cartoons.
What’s fascinating is how many folks who are aligned with this point of view… will still give a pass to the iteration that Stewart played. I think a lot about this phenomenon in particular, how the correct actor embodying a character makes their humanity undeniable, even if you don’t agree with many of their choices. But it’s also true that most of the X-Men films also make a point of showing what, precisely, in Charles Xavier’s mode of engagement works: Providing a safe place for students to grow up and demanding that people live up to their best attributes, no matter the cost.
None of that is better encapsulated than a moment in Logan, when our titular leading man sees a family on the side of the road, in trouble. They are still being chased, and so he makes to drive right by, insisting, “Someone’ll come along.” And Charles Xavier, mind ravaged by cognitive decline, broken for years after his powers harmed the people he loved, still says: “Someone has come along.”
That is what Charles Xavier stands for at his best, and it needed an actor like Stewart to bring it to the fore: You are frightened and endangered and running out of time and, still, you have no excuse to opt out of offering help. And this choice doesn’t ultimately prove something beautiful and righteous about adhering to that code—in fact, the people who they help wind up murdered by the very group that Logan, Xavier, and Laura are trying to avoid. This was never meant to be some kindly lesson that doing the right thing leads to better outcomes. You don’t have a punchcard of good deeds that you get to cash in on later.
Someone has come along and it’s no more profound than just that. Get to work.[end-mark]
The post Some of Our Favorite Sir Patrick Stewart Roles and Moments appeared first on Reactor.