After making the silly psychological thriller "Magic" (1978)—Anthony Hopkins as a ventriloquist dominated by his foul-mouthed dummy that was distinguished by one of the creepiest trailers ever made (go to YouTube to check it out, provided that you don't actually need to sleep tonight)—Attenborough finally went ahead with his long-simmering plans to make a film about the life of Mahatma Gandhi, a project that had been thwarted in the past by the deaths of backers, a competing version of the story to be directed by David Lean (who decided to do "Lawrence of Arabia" instead") and Prime Minister Indira Gandhi declaring a state of emergency in India in 1976 that precluded any filming in the country. Finally, Attenborough was able to cobble together the money required—most of it coming from a new production entity in the U.K. known as Goldcrest—but with the heavy subject matter, tortured production history (which is recounted in the fascinating Goldcrest history "My Indecision Is Final" by Jake Eberts and Terry Ilott) and total unknown Ben Kingsley in the lead, few expected it to amount to much of anything.

Of course, the film proved to be an enormous hit around the world and would go on to receive eight Oscars, including two personally for Attenborough (Best Picture and Director) and one for Kingsley. Because one of the films that "Gandhi" beat for the top prize was "E.T.," it is now often cited in polls and articles as one of those overrated films that cheated more deserving works for the Best Picture award. On the surface, it is easy to understand why—it sounds like the kind of overly noble project designed in a lab to win Oscars—but the fact of the matter is that it is a film fully deserving of its accolades. It is an epic work about the humblest of men, and, while that schism sounds like a recipe for disaster, Attenborough finds a perfect balance between the vast expanses filled with thousands of extras and the intimate moments in which we get to know the man behind the enigma. Thanks to his deft handling of material that could have grown sanctimonious at any time and Kingsley, whose performance is still a marvel to behold, "Gandhi" remains one of the few modern biopics that has truly stood the test of time.

The only problem with "Gandhi" is that it was such a personal and artistic triumph that it would prove to be difficult for Attenborough to follow. There would be "A Chorus Line" (1985), a somewhat awkward screen version of the long-running Broadway hit, and "Cry Freedom" (1987), a well-meaning look at the life and death of anti-apartheid activist Steve Biko (Denzel Washington in a powerful early role) that was hampered by the decision to view the story through the eyes of white journalist Donald Woods (Kevin Kline). In 1992, he would make "Chaplin," a biopic on the life of the famed filmmaker, and while the movie as a whole would fail to find much of an audience, it gave Robert Downey Jr. one of his first substantial dramatic lead roles and earned him a Best Actor nomination. His next two films, "Shadowlands" (1993) and "In Love and War" (1996), dealt with romances involving famous writers—the former chronicling the relationship between C.S. Lewis (Anthony Hopkins, in the last of his five collaborations with Attenborough) and American poet Joy Davidson (Debra Winger), and the latter looking at the brief love between a young Ernest Hemingway (Chris O'Donnell) and a nurse (Sandra Bullock) during World War I that would eventually inspire "A Farewell to Arms." None of these films would make much of an impact and his last two directorial efforts, "Grey Owl" (1999) and "Closing the Ring" (2007), would be largely dismissed by critics and ignored by audiences.

And yet, Attenborough's impact cannot be ignored, not as an actor/filmmaker nor as a humanitarian—the list of charities and educational programs to which he donated time and money is as long and impressive as his filmography. His was a life so immense that it will probably never be brought to the screen because he, with his unerring ability to work big and intimate at the same time, was perhaps the only filmmaker who could have.