A Celebration of the Life of
Gerry Troyna
Weetwood Hall
Monday 30th June at 2:00pm
The livestream has now been replaced with an archive recording of the service.
Book of Memories
4 entries.
Living close by in South Tottenham, I knew Gerry from an early age, via the Synagogue and Hebrew classes, Crowland Road Juniors, through to Tottenham Grammar School. I was good friends with his younger brother, Barry. Two years ahead of me, Gerry and cousin Colin Morgan were held in very high esteem. And, this is also reflected in the comments made on the tribute to him on both the Facebook pages of Crowland Road and Tottenham Grammar. It’s so nice to see that Gerry enjoyed both a successful career and a fulfilling life. May his memory be a blessing. Condolences to Jenny and all the family. Phil Nyman
Gerry is no more. I still can’t quite believe that I won't see him again. Every time I say this, I can hear him muttering, "Oh, don’t be so bloody dramatic!"
Gerry was always there. With suggestions, solutions, questions, demands, complaints, clues to a new way of looking at things. If I was feeling a bit lost, I could count on Gerry to show me a way... and if I didn't want to go that way, Gerry would usually listen to me with an open mind.
Of course his suggestions turned out to be the better option. He would then give a smug smile and mutter "It's my years of experience!"
Gerry could find story angles in a ceiling fan.
And now, just like that… he’s gone. Probably off directing clouds or giving God notes on lighting.
Gerry wasn’t my friend. He was my mentor, guide, and my life’s own script supervisor — always checking my dialogue for truth and continuity. He celebrated my half-baked ideas as if they were Oscar-worthy and told me when I was being an idiot (kindly, but with flair).
Actually he was a mentor / guide/ godfather to many others — generous as he was with his time and his wisdom. But I like to think he was just my mentor. I never liked sharing.
Gerry complained a lot. He really took moaning to the level of an art form. Sometimes that was hard on us, when we were working for him and staying with him for weeks and months at a stretch. But then an hour later he would be pouring drinks for us, explaining for the hundredth time why nothing can compare to a Single Malt, and telling us some weirdly wonderful story. I could never predict what would make his mood switch from sour to sunny, what would make him say "Now I am a happy bunny!"
As a filmmaker, Gerry didn’t just tell stories — he lived them, felt them, smoked them, and didn't stop at anything to tell them exactly the way he wanted to. He had an incredible belief in human beings. He just knew how to bring out the soul of his characters on film or video tape. He didn’t need a crane shot — his compassion was the wide angle.
He tried to teach us that magic of his. But its not something to be learnt, it can be only lived.
Gerry, there was no way I could repay all that you have done for me, all that you have taught me, all that you have made me think and feel and do. When the time comes, I will try to pay it forward, like you asked me to.
Rest well, you brilliant, crazy, wonderful old man.
And don’t forget to keep rolling.
Gerry was always there. With suggestions, solutions, questions, demands, complaints, clues to a new way of looking at things. If I was feeling a bit lost, I could count on Gerry to show me a way... and if I didn't want to go that way, Gerry would usually listen to me with an open mind.
Of course his suggestions turned out to be the better option. He would then give a smug smile and mutter "It's my years of experience!"
Gerry could find story angles in a ceiling fan.
And now, just like that… he’s gone. Probably off directing clouds or giving God notes on lighting.
Gerry wasn’t my friend. He was my mentor, guide, and my life’s own script supervisor — always checking my dialogue for truth and continuity. He celebrated my half-baked ideas as if they were Oscar-worthy and told me when I was being an idiot (kindly, but with flair).
Actually he was a mentor / guide/ godfather to many others — generous as he was with his time and his wisdom. But I like to think he was just my mentor. I never liked sharing.
Gerry complained a lot. He really took moaning to the level of an art form. Sometimes that was hard on us, when we were working for him and staying with him for weeks and months at a stretch. But then an hour later he would be pouring drinks for us, explaining for the hundredth time why nothing can compare to a Single Malt, and telling us some weirdly wonderful story. I could never predict what would make his mood switch from sour to sunny, what would make him say "Now I am a happy bunny!"
As a filmmaker, Gerry didn’t just tell stories — he lived them, felt them, smoked them, and didn't stop at anything to tell them exactly the way he wanted to. He had an incredible belief in human beings. He just knew how to bring out the soul of his characters on film or video tape. He didn’t need a crane shot — his compassion was the wide angle.
He tried to teach us that magic of his. But its not something to be learnt, it can be only lived.
Gerry, there was no way I could repay all that you have done for me, all that you have taught me, all that you have made me think and feel and do. When the time comes, I will try to pay it forward, like you asked me to.
Rest well, you brilliant, crazy, wonderful old man.
And don’t forget to keep rolling.
I remember Jerry as a kind and calm man who I've known since I was a baby. He often looked out for me and my sister when we were young and encouraged my career choices. He was always a pleasure to be around.
I landed on my feet when I met the generous,creative,funny,talented,warm Gerry and Jenny as I booked digs with them while acting at W.Yorks Playhouse. They became my friends and I always stayed with them. I played their piano,discussed life,art,education;they were there for me when I lost my Dad..
Gerry also got me to write the music for his C4 DISPATCHES documentary about the killing of Jamie Bulger:I learnt a lot from him.I then repaid the compliment by getting him on the Performing Arts Lab Writers Workshop, where he spent 10 days in the Kent countryside developing his script about Herschel.I loved his company and 'ramshackle'spirit;meeting for coffee and chat in Cafe Nero in Charlotte St when he was in London..one knew he wouldn't leave Leeds,even though it was discussed! I wish we'd lived nearer, to have more of his company.He was kind and generous beyond measure. I will miss his being in the world. We need more like Gerry. And there really aren't many..My thoughts are with Jenny today x
Gerry also got me to write the music for his C4 DISPATCHES documentary about the killing of Jamie Bulger:I learnt a lot from him.I then repaid the compliment by getting him on the Performing Arts Lab Writers Workshop, where he spent 10 days in the Kent countryside developing his script about Herschel.I loved his company and 'ramshackle'spirit;meeting for coffee and chat in Cafe Nero in Charlotte St when he was in London..one knew he wouldn't leave Leeds,even though it was discussed! I wish we'd lived nearer, to have more of his company.He was kind and generous beyond measure. I will miss his being in the world. We need more like Gerry. And there really aren't many..My thoughts are with Jenny today x
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