TELEVISION HEAVEN - Key Persons
A Fine Romance starred real-life husband and wife team Judi Dench and Michael Williams. Dench (in her first sitcom) played the part of Laura, a translator by profession who is single and happy to be that way. In order to appease her forever matchmaking sister, Helen (Susan Penhaligon), she goes to a party where she is introduced to Mike, also in his forties, a landscape gardener who Laura sees as short, shy, and nervous. But the pair make a pact to feign interest in one another in order to make an early escape from the party. They soon begin an on-off relationship which eventually blossoms into a fine romance. Bob Larbey didn't think Judi Dench would do the series at first. "The producer and I were trying to cast it, and we batted names back and forth, making endless lists with asterisks and question marks, and he said, "In a dream world, who would you like to play it?" And I said Judi Dench, thinking this is a great classical actress, she wouldn't touch a sitcom with a barge pole. He, bless him, said, "well let's send her a script, she can only send it back." He sent her a script, she phoned him back and said she'd love to do it. The series ran for four seasons between 1981 and 1984. Another of Bob Larbey's early solo projects was adapting The Darling Buds of May for television. "It was a huge success." says Larbey. "I did the first four episodes of that. I adapted two of the books. And, without being mean spirited, I saw some things starting to happen that I didn't particularly want to happen so I quit then. But I did have the advantage of meeting Catherine Zeta-Jones, who played Mariette. I remember the stunned silence as she walked into the rehearsal room!"
A veteran of the classic British Music-Hall, Askey's trademark brand of quick-fire humour and masterly use of the ad-lib won him generations of fans.
They say that good things often come in small packages, and for the world of entertainment as a whole and early British television comedy in particular, one especially small package came to embody bright, fresh, anarchic laughter on a huge scale. The name of that small but shining star of early small screen comedy was Arthur Askey.
Arthur Bowden Askey was born in Liverpool on 6th June 1900. After being educated at the Liverpool Institute and singing in the Liverpool Cathedral choir he entered the Liverpool Education Offices as a clerk. At the age of 16 he gave this up and began to learn a new trade as an entertainer around the local clubs and soon began to emerge as a true all-rounder in the grand tradition of the British music hall. During the First World War he joined the forces he soon began performing at army shows. Following this, Arthur spent 14 years honing his skills working the concert party circuit before landing a part, in 1938, on BBC radio in a new series called Band Waggon. The show was the first weekly comedy/variety series to be broadcast in Britain on a fixed day and also the first to feature a resident comedian. However, the first few episodes were not very well received and the series was almost cancelled. But by the third programme Arthur, his partner, Richard Murdoch, and writer Vernon Harris came up with a better-received format and the idea that led listeners to believe that the duo lived in a flat on top of the newly opened Broadcasting House. The public suddenly caught on to the pair's particular brand of anarchic humour and 'Big-Hearted Arthur' and 'Stinker Murdoch' became huge stars.
Arthur quickly became famous for his catchphrase "Ay-Thang-Yew" (the first of many to be associated with the him), and his boast that it was the "daddy of all catchphrases" was given credence almost 60 years later when Mike Meyers used it again for comic effect in the successful Austin Powers feature films. "I did not realise at the time I was saying anything particularly comic," said Arthur, in 1951. "But in no time those words were on everybody's lips and the phrase passed into language."
Band Waggon was quickly adapted for both a stage production and a feature film (1939) and Arthur went on to star in a number of other successful features for Gainsborough, including Charlie's Aunt, Ghost Train, I Thank You, Back Room Boy, King Arthur Was A Gentleman, Miss London Ltd., and Bees in Paradise. Askey's persona was that of a hyperactive schoolboy and he would often perform skipping around the stage or incorporating an energetic song and dance into his act. He was also the master of the ad-lib. Although they were distinctly different in style, Arthur claimed to be influenced by the great American comedian Jack Benny. "I am an out-and-out admirer of Benny - he's terrific." He wrote in an article for The World Radio and Television Annual of 1951. He wrote; "The tendency on this side of the Atlantic is for characters to be eccentric, even grotesque. Jack Benny, whatever strange happenings he lets himself in for, is himself and nobody else." Arthur said that Band Waggon was the first show of its kind on British radio to steer away from eccentric characters. "I was myself and Dickie was himself -and millions of listeners believed in us and our flat." To such an extent in fact that listeners sent in hundreds of letters a week addressed to that make-believe address.
After the Second World War Arthur remained as popular as ever although his first TV series in 1952, Before Your Very Eyes! (another of his catchphrases), was only moderately well received by critics and public alike, until the introduction of the completely dumb voluptuous blonde, Sabrina (Norma Sykes), whose fondness for tight fitting dresses turned her into British TV's first sex-symbol. Although he was constantly seen on television throughout his career, his own starring vehicles were not that kind to him. In 1957 writers Sid Colin and Talbot Rothwell revived the Band Waggon format for Living It Up, a series that reunited Askey and Murdoch after an absence of 18 years. (The flat they shared was now on top of Television House). The first show was panned by critics.
But Arthur the irrepressible came back the following week with some unrehearsed remarks directly to the camera. During the opening sketch he suddenly broke off, walked up to the camera and peered inside as if looking at the TV audience. "So, you didn't enjoy the show last week?" he said. Then in the middle of another scene he went up to the camera again and shaking his head he remarked, "Can't understand why you didn't like it, really I can't." In the end only 9 shows were made and Arthur returned to live performing as the end-of-the-pier comedian par excellence.
There were other TV series, the best of which was Arthur's Treasured Volumes, but in the main Arthur would be content as the special guest star or topping the bill at the Palladium. The diminutive comedian (he was 5 foot 3 inches) who had coined the catchphrases "Hello Playmates and "Doesn't it make you want to spit?", continued to work into his eighties and in 1980 he made one of his last appearances at The Royal Variety Show. Following this he suffered from circulatory problems in his legs, which ultimately led him to having both amputated. Arthur Askey died on 16th November 1982.
Although small in physical stature, the genial, superbly honed comedic talent and lovable persona of the big hearted, cheekily grinning comic lad from Liverpool will forever ensure that Arthur Askey's trademark brand of quick-fire humour and masterly use of the ad-lib will continue to elicit big bouts of appreciative laughter wherever and whenever vintage British television comedy is screened.
Remembering the quintessential fictional 'spiv' Arthur English, who off stage was a humble man, as kind in spirit as he was funny on it
Arthur English was born in Aldershot in 1919. There was no theatrical dynasty behind him - his father had left school at 11 years old and became involved in Cheltenham races and the horseman world, although by the time Arthur came along, Walter English was doing horse and cart deliveries for the local Junior Army and Navy Stores. He had been left an inheritance by his first wife of around £2000, but as Arthur recalled, ‘he drank the lot!' and so at the time of Arthur's birth, family income was supplemented by his mother, who earned her crust cleaning.
The Army came calling 11 weeks into the Second World War, Arthur reaching the rank of sergeant during his years of service. He narrowly avoided death, having escaped his crew's tank just seconds before it exploded under enemy fire near the Rhine, where he and his colleagues submerged themselves to avoid following gunfire aimed at them.
In 1941, Arthur married his childhood sweetheart, Ivy, to whom he had been engaged since he was 18. Ivy became a vital part in his success story. He auditioned at the Windmill Theatre with a comedy partner, Johnny Carol in 1948 but failed. Unbeknown to him though, his brother had written to the Windmill's renowned impresario Vivian Van Damm and asked him to audition Arthur's solo act, sending him a picture of Arthur in a spiv outfit. When Arthur first performed, he didn't even know what a spiv was, but after being challenged on it by a punter who suggested that he was one, he promptly equipped himself with all the necessary tools. Ivy created an over-sized yellow tie to complete the act, under Arthur's protestations, but he trusted her judgement and it was his outfit that got him the audition. Even then, his success owed much to Ivy as he weighed up the insecurity of a daily rate offer that could end at any minute against a smaller but more secure wage painting. She convinced him to take a punt on Van Damm's offer, and Arthur's professional career was underway.
The Windmill may have been a starting ground for many comedy performers over the years, but Arthur denied that it taught budding comedians nothing. Given that a great many of the patrons were there solely to see the nudity, Arthur said it taught him to die with composure. Those who wished to be in the audience and were not there for the comedians would inevitably be keeping a low profile behind newspapers, but Arthur was quite content to use those particular patrons as subjects of his jokes. Of one pairing that he said played cards while he was on, he joked, ‘The other day only one of them came in. On his own. He didn't have anyone to play with…so he sat there and played with himself…'
Unlikely though it may seem, the great Noel Coward took a seat for several performances before asking Arthur to play a spiv waiter in his upcoming show Ace of Clubs. Arthur declined. As Arthur's career took him into radio, he began to get a reputation as a quick-thinking stand-up and eventually Vivian Van Damm put himself forward as his agent. A clash with the BBC over billing, to whom Van Damm would not bow, led to Arthur parting ways with him and taking Chesney Allen as his agent as his career began to blossom.
Arthur did all the radio classics - Look Who's Here, Variety Bandbox, Workers' Playtime - and he was a success at each. He even met the future Queen at the 1951 Royal Variety Performance, when she commented on his kipper tie in the after-show line-up! Despite this, the gradual closing of the Variety Halls led to Arthur deciding to quit the business in the later 1950s after being offered a job as a paint salesman, while setting his wife up with a drapery business in Aldershot. The spiv character was no more. But if the Windmill was the starting ground for some performers, others earned their stripes as redcoats at Butlins, and no sooner had Arthur been offered his salesman job than Billy Butlin came calling. From there though, the work didn't follow for some time and when it did, he had to accept he was no longer top of the bill, and it wasn't until 1974 that he found his feet on television.
His first breakthrough role was in Copper's End in 1969, having done the rounds in sketches for the likes of Leslie Crowther, Frankie Howerd and guest roles in standard CV shows at the time like Dixon of Dock Green and Dad's Army. Arthur's appearance in Copper's End had no lines, just a requirement to climb some cellar stairs with a crate of beer. However, the laughter induced from it convinced the producer to add more scenes in future episodes and not that long afterwards he was talking with Yorkshire television about the part of Slugger in Follyfoot.
Ironically, Slugger had been written as a former jockey and boxer working for a riding family. However, despite his father's experience in the riding business, Arthur was terrified of horses. His first take saw him run for the hills when the horse arrived, and a mistimed cue of his next scene saw him leave a house too early and instead of looking at the hind legs of four runaway horses, he was standing in the line of four charging straight at him. Arthur's reaction - ‘Don't bother, I'll make the tea!' as he ducked back inside - made the writers realise that his comic skills would allow them to change the character, which they did to great effect.
Even greater success awaited Arthur when comedy producer and writer extraordinaire David Croft came calling. It's well known that Croft had a habit of noting performers that he worked with and then calling on them years later when a suitable role arose. Arthur had appeared in Hugh and I in 1962, but in 1976 Croft found himself looking for a new maintenance man on the floors of Grace Brothers, Larry Martyn having left his role of Mr Mash. The role of Mr Harman was an instant success and his one-episode trial turned into a permanent fixture through to the show's demise in 1985. It also helped pull Arthur from a grief-stricken wilderness after the death of his beloved wife in 1975 which sent him into a spiral of drinking. Arthur never once considered working on Are You Being Served? to actually be work. The atmosphere and camaraderie were a stable force in his life that he loved, and his character's success was in no small part down to his own cheeky charm.
His grief was also helped by a new relationship with a new lady in his life, eventually marrying dancer Teresa Mann. John Inman had kindly urged him to join him in panto to try and keep his mind occupied during the festive season, and it was then that Arthur decided to pick himself up and get back on with his life. He had been a one-woman man with Ivy, but he had grieved long enough, and he and Teresa married in August 1977.
Arthur's remaining screen role that most will recognise him as was Alf Garnett's drinking buddy, appropriately named Arthur, in In Sickness and in Health. By 1985, Garnett's humour was becoming a challenge to values, Alf now having a gay, black carer in his older years to challenge his bigoted views. With the loss of his ‘silly old moo' after the death of Dandy Nichols, Arthur became a sounding board as an often-tipsy Alf aired his life's challenges.
Arthur English died in a care home in 1995. After bursting on the stage as a headline stand-up comedian, he had to get used to being part of the cast rather than headlining it. But the industry never forgot his status. Warren Mitchell said that he could learn everything about comedy from Arthur, and in his earlier days, Vivian Van Damm predicted that Arthur would reach the top, in no small part to him being the best behaved of the many artists to tread the Windmill boards. A humble man, as kind in spirit as he was funny on stage, he remains one of television's comforting faces that brings a smile every time he is seen in screen.
The Arthur Haynes show was essential viewing in the early days of ITV. A favourite of millions but for too long overlooked Television Heaven takes a look back at his career and the impact he had on television comedy.
An often underappreciated yet vital component to the success and memory of any TV series or film is its music. In the field of classic British telefantasy there has arguably been no finer exponent than Barry Gray.
Fondly remembered as Russ Abbott's comic foil to his Cooperman character, Bella Emberg, aka Blunderwoman, became a household name in the UK in the 1980s
With the passing of Benny Hill, the world of comedy lost one of its greatest clowns. He broke the language barrier in much the same way as his idols; Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin and his impact on a generation can easily be compared with these masters of mirth.
Benny Hill was born into something of an amateur showbiz background. His paternal grandfather, Henry, had been a street clown, his uncle, Leonard, had performed a circus high-wire act which ultimately cost him his life, and his father, Alfred, had run away from home at the age of sixteen to join Fossett's Circus.
But Benny's father was not said to have been the most pleasant of gentlemen. A number of hardships and missed opportunities left him something of an embittered man with an uncompromising attitude. Because of this he was nicknamed "the Captain", even though he only ever reached the rank of private after his showbiz career was curtailed by the outbreak of World War One.
Returning home at the end of hostilities, having been gassed in France and then held Prisoner of War in Belgium, Alfred turned his back on show business and went to work as a clerk. By 1920 he had met and married Helen Cave and the couple settled in Helen's hometown of Southampton. The following year the couple celebrated the birth of their first child, a boy whom they christened Leonard. Benny, who was named Alfred Hawthorne Hill, was born three years later on 25th January 1924 (not 1925 as often stated). A third child, Diana, was born in 1933.
All of the Hill children grew up closer to their mother than their father who it has been said would constantly try to prove that he was stronger, cleverer and more able than any of his offspring. And if Alfred Senior had returned from the war a bitter man then a missed opportunity at work did nothing to mellow his character. Alfred had been offered the chance to buy a partnership in the surgical appliance shop where he worked. He was unable to raise the necessary funds and the business, a backstreet outlet selling abdominal supports, tonics and (mainly) contraceptives, became hugely successful and made its owner, Jack Stanley, a millionaire.
As a child, Benny faced schoolyard taunts from his fellow pupils at Shirley Infant School about the fact that his father sold what was then popularly known as 'French letters'. In order to combat these, the youngster turned to humour and used his father's profession to his advantage by allowing the other children to believe that he was well versed in all matters sexually related. Benny began to indulge in the type of schoolboy smut and saucy postcard humour that would eventually become his trademark. According to his brother, Leonard, one of Benny's earliest jokes went:
Benny had plenty of offers from elsewhere. American television offers came flooding in and he allegedly turned down a $6m offer to make 26 half hour shows in the US because he preferred the security of his home territory. But there were no offers from home. Ideas were tossed back and forth including a series of specials for London Weekend Television, but nothing ever came of them. Benny Hill retired gracefully and with dignity. He was financially secure, in fact he always had a pile of royalty cheques unopened above his fireplace in his Teddington flat, and he took to travelling to his favourite holiday locations, visiting local cinemas and spending time with ex-Angel, Sue Upton, now married and with a family of her own. To her children he was always Uncle Benny.
Published on February 20th, 2019. Written by Laurence Marcus (2003) Sources of Reference: Life Is Funny (Articles published in weekly parts in TV MIRROR commencing 15th January 1955, written by Benny Hill. Star Turns written by Barry Took published in 1992 Benny Hill Merry Master of Mirth written by Robert Ross published in 1999. Radio Times Guide to TV Comedy written by Mark Lewisohn published in 1998 for Television Heaven.
Cockney born and Cockney bred, Bernard Bresslaw is best remembered as the gormless giant of no fewer than 14 Carry On films, often playing the lumbering oaf foil to Sid James' conniving characters. At 6 foot 7 inches, he told everyone that the reason he grew to that height was to reach the top more easily. But reaching the top didn't prove to be too difficult for Bernie, and thanks largely to a simple, three-word catchphrase, "I only arsked", his popularity swept Britain in the 1950s in a matter of weeks. It was not thanks to his size but thanks to his huge talent that he stayed at the top for so long.
Bernard Bresslaw (left) and brother.
Born on 25 February 1934, the youngest of three sons, Bernie's father and mother were second-generation Polish immigrants. The young Bernie was a giant from birth, weighing in at 10lb 4oz and wearing size nine shoes before he hit his teens. The shoe size was a big disappointment to his mum - she wanted him to be a tap dancer. His father wanted his youngest son to follow in the family trade as a tailor's presser, or take some ‘safe clerical job'. With this in mind Bernie was sent to ‘Coopers' Company School' in Mile End, not far from Eric Street where the family lived.
Although none of the masters would say that he shone in any particular subject, he did well at sport, and made the first cricket eleven. He showed a particular interest, too, in the end-of-term plays, and was proud of the fact that he was often given ‘star' parts, and never fobbed off with spear-holding roles. At an age when most of his friends were dreaming of being train drivers or rocket pilots, Bernie's ambition was to become an actor.
Bernard went to work on this ambition, and rather surprised his family when he was able to tell them that he'd been awarded a scholarship at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art, winning one of only two places given annually by the London County Council. This news was met with all kinds of objections. ‘Acting is a dicey sort of job. Why not plump for something in an office? Or commerce? Something that earns money,' said his father.
But Bernie was insistent, studied at RADA and won the Emile Littler Award as ‘the actor most likely to succeed', when he was 17, for his performance of Christopher Fry's ‘ Venus Observed ,' not only winning the Award but also personal plaudits from the playwright himself. "At RADA I had to learn ballet dancing," said Bernie. "Imagine me pirouetting?" Bernard graduated and went into a notoriously tough form of rep - playing RAF and Army camps, Borstals and mental hospitals. He later said that the demands of keeping happy the demanding all-male houses - who would soon let you know if you weren't up to scratch - was superb discipline and training for his later career. During his time at RADA, he was also picked by Laurence Olivier to play a wrestler in his production of ‘The MacRory Whirl.'
Bernard Bresslaw was a household name when, in 1965, he took on the first of 14 'Carry On' roles as Indian brave Little Heap in Carry On Cowboy. He went on to star as such memorable ‘Carry On' characters as warrior Bungdit In in Carry On Up The Khyber, and sinister butler Sockett in Carry On Screaming, and Bernie played them all while pursuing his classical career in the theatre. His dedication to the ‘Carry On' series was without question. For the filming of Carry On Up The Jungle, he even went as far as to learn his lines in a genuine African language; only to find out that the actors hired to play alongside him were from the West Indies. Bernie remained a regular on the stage, performing in such plays as Charley's Aunt, Run for Your Wife and Me and My Girl.
Bernard Bresslaw could turn his hand to any role although he is probably best remembered as being cast as an amiable idiot. In truth, this real-life gentle giant was not only large in stature but also a huge and often underrated talent who always remembered the advice he was once given on the film set of Too Many Crooks by Terry Thomas: "Be nice to people on your way up the ladder, for you may meet them again on your way down." It was advice that Bernie always remembered although he remained at the top of his profession throughout his career. On TV, movies or the theatre he has undoubtedly been regarded as one of Britain's unsung heroes for too long. Bernard Bresslaw was one of Britain's foremost actors who entertained us for over forty years: A true giant in every way.
Mike and Bernie Winters were gifted and appealing professionals whose canny brand of rough and smooth comedy routines added much welcomed laughter to the nation's television screens.
Bob Hope was a one-of-a-kind entertainer. Vaudeville, stage, film, radio and television-he did it all. Friend to presidents, pal to soldiers in battle, master of the quick one-liners. His performances won him the admiration of such comedians as WC Fields, Charlie Chaplin and Woody Allen.
Bob Larbey had already experienced working as a solo writer but admits that working without a partner is less fun. "There is no one to bounce ideas off of nor is there a partner to laugh with if something is funny." He also admits that when he and Esmonde worked together there was much more planning and outlining involved in the scripts. On his own, Larbey says he thinks in broad terms, figures out the ending and just goes from there. "We always wrote together in the same room. I've heard of pairs of writers who do scenes each and then meet up and put them together, but that never appealed to us. We rented a series of disgusting little offices and just used to go to work-sit in the same room, talk a lot, drink a lot of coffee. We used to get the story fairly straight first, and then start to ad-lib dialogue. And that was it. Ad-lib it and write it down, and try to remember what you've just been laughing at. That's the hardest part." They rarely disagreed on things, but decided early on that if one of them felt very strongly that a scene wasn't working or a line of dialogue should be taken out, then it would be gone.
In 1995 Bob Larbey wrote My Good Friend starring George Cole, Richard Pearson and Minnie Driver in a well written poignant comedy about old age. His scripts contain the same strengths as the work he did with John Esmonde. They got laughs without resorting to coarse language and, although not every one of their collaborations proved to be a hit, they weren't afraid to experiment. They created characters everyone could relate to and let the laughter flow naturally from the characters and the situation rather than an endless stream of artificial one-liners. "I don't think we ever set out with a master plan of what we wanted to write. We just used to think of ideas that we hoped were funny, and hoped that somebody else found them funny. I think a style just naturally evolves, and I think John and I together and me singly tended to concentrate on characters, to make them character comedies as opposed to situation comedies."
Together and solo, the work of John Esmonde and Bob Larbey has made the world of British comedy a much richer place.
One of British TV's most popular performers with a career that spanned over fifty years and included work as a cartoonist, comedian, actor, writer and TV presenter who was once billed as Britain's answer to Bob Hope.
Born and raised in Dorset, Brian turned his back on a twenty-five-year career in IT in order to satisfy his writing passions. After success with magazine articles and smaller biographical pieces, he published his first full-length work, `Simon Cadell: The Authorised Biography'.
Brian is a devoted fan of the comedy stars of yesteryear, citing Eric Morecambe, Ken Dodd, Harpo Marx and Dudley Moore amongst his personal favourites. He was drawn to the story of Simon Cadell through not only `Hi-de-hi!' but also `Life Without George', a programme he identified with having grown up in the Thatcher era.
Voted BBC TV Personality of the Year in 1991, awarded an OBE in 1998, CBE in 2006 and a BAFTA fellowship in 2008, Bruce Forsyth was associated with some of the most successful shows in television history. The secret of his success lay in a winning combination of innate talent and a natural rapport with audiences.
Bryan Pringle's craggy, down-to-earth looks made him a perfect character actor.
Charlie Drake delighted audiences with his slapstick comic antics in stage variety shows and on television for more than 50 years, often playing a downtrodden "everyman," who failed at everything he tried. Not so in real life.
With his diminutive stature, red curly hair and childlike mischievous manner, Charlie Drake was described by one critic as looking like 'a Botticelli cherub.' A physical comedian who mastered the art of slapstick, often articulated in an outraged falsetto when things went wrong, which they invariably did, he successfully moved from children's to adult performer and in the process became one of Britain's top television stars of the 1950s and 60s.
Charles Edward Springall was born on 19 June 1925 in the Elephant and Castle area of South East London. His poverty stricken family of mother, father and six children, of which he was the youngest, were so poor that his mother had to pawn the sheets and pillowcases they slept on every Monday only to retrieve them every Friday so they would be able to enjoy the comfort of them at the weekend.
Wanting to be a sports star, and very capable of being one too, Chuck Connors instead became a very watchable star of television and film, appearing in over 100 productions.
John Sullivan's television scriptwriting debut concerned the exploits of would-be Marxist, Wolfie Smith, and the activities of his four-man revolutionary party, the Tooting Popular Front.
'Allo, 'Allo Created by TV comedy legends Jeremy Lloyd and David Croft, who were responsible for some of the longest running sitcoms on British television, 'Allo 'Allo! was a wartime comedy created as a parody of Secret Army. Also tagged British Comedy
Job Titles:
- Members of till Death Us Do Part
‘Dandy Nichols…was a law unto herself, and one of the best and most subtle scene stealers in the business.'
Best remembered as the stoical wife of Alf Garnett in the often-controversial BBC sitcom Till Death Us Do Part, Dandy Nichols enjoyed a long and distinguished career, not only on television, but also on the big screen and in the theatre. To many, Nichols was the essential small-part character actor typically appearing as a cockney charlady, a busybody neighbour, or a dowdy housewife. But here performance in Till Death Us Do Part was an accomplished example of an understated performance that was vital to the series success. Even if she wasn't writer Johnny Speight's first choice to play the role of Else (short for Elsie) Garnett.
Dandy Nichols returned twice more to play Else, first in an ITV revival, Till Death... (ITV, 1981), and finally in In Sickness and in Health (BBC, 1985-1992). But by the second of those series she was now suffering from rheumatoid arthritis, so her character was written as confined to a wheelchair. Nichols only appeared in seven of the episodes. On 3 February 1986 Nichols had a bad fall in her flat and was admitted to the Royal London Hospital in Whitechapel, East London. She passed away on 6 February of pneumonia and heart disease. She was 78 years of age.
According to the other cast members of Till Death Us Do Part, Dandy Nichols was a very caring mother hen figure on the set of the series, and the handbag she had on set, which she had brought from home contained a number of ‘remedies' for any potential ailments. According to Tony Booth, Warren Mitchell got a little more than he bargained for on one occasion. After Mitchell had been particularly irascible during one rehearsal, Nichols offered him one of her ‘remedies' to help him sleep at the end of the day. The following day Mitchell turned up for rehearsal late, having overslept. Apparently, Nichols had ‘confused' her downers with uppers and given Mitchell a ‘black bomber.' "I caught Dandy's eye and she winked." Said Booth. "This was no accident."
For a time, Britain's most controversial comedian, regularly provoking outrage, indignation and a flood of complaints to the BBC's switchboard.
Writer and producer David Croft had the Midas touch when it came to comedy and the shows that he created and wrote with alternating creative partners Jimmy Perry and Jeremy Lloyd were comedy gold for the decades. But how did two of the most popular fare on the big screen?
One of the most recognisable voices and faces of Irish stage and screen, David Kelly was loved and respected by his co-stars and the public alike.
There are faces on television, particularly from the three channel days, that are instantly recognisable and yet somehow people cannot put a name to them. If you tell anybody how funny you thought David Kelly was, surprisingly people will not always follow the thread. However, he was one of the shining lights in the success of the early episodes of Fawlty Towers, charmed us as a one-armed waiter and was arguably Dublin's most famous acting export - not to mention a hero to a Hollywood legend and a sex symbol while in his seventies. If you mention hopeless builder Mr O'Reilly or Robin's Nest suddenly people are with you.
David Kelly was born in Dublin in 1929. A true Irishman, regardless of where filming would take him he would never leave his birth city. He was educated at Synge Street Christian Brothers School, an experience that held no positive memories for him, and here he learned like so many of his peers that the best way to avoid being a target for the bullies was to make people laugh. Kelly decided to pursue a career in the performing arts and although his parents never actively tried to dissuade him from choosing acting as a career, they insisted he at least learn some kind of alternative skills should acting not work out. As such he learned calligraphy and painting skills and he would later suggest that his dapper sense of style was influenced by how he thought painters should dress. While Kelly often played a rather dishevelled character on screen, off screen he was rarely seen in anything less than impeccable styles. His calligraphy skills were put to use in future like by sending personal thank-you notes to those kind enough to employ him.
Stage work was Kelly's first step into acting, having a particular soft spot for the Gate Theatre in Dublin throughout his career. He would appear here in the early stages of his career and return regularly throughout.
Kelly's celluloid debut would be in the feature film A Terrible Beauty, albeit significantly down the cast and having only one line. He would appear on television in minor roles before getting his biggest break to date in 1968, courtesy of the sitcom Me Mammy. Also starring Yootha Joyce and being a vehicle for Milo O'Shea, with whom Kelly had a lifelong friendship, Me Mammy was a very successful comedy in which Kelly played Cousin Enda. It focussed around a London-based Irishman played by O'Shea and his attempts to pair up with his secretary, normally foiled in doing so by his dominant mother. Another victim to the BBC's wiping policy, Me Mammy may not be as well-known now as some of its equals, but it brought Kelly to a wider audience than his television exploits back home on RTE.
Guest appearances would follow in a number of established sitcoms, but leading roles eluded Kelly. In 1975 however, he would gain more notoriety from one brief role in sitcom legend than most actors would gain throughout their entire careers. Cast as the dubious Irish builder, Mr O'Reilly, Kelly brought a hysterical performance to his short role as the low-cost and low-skilled option chosen by Basil Fawlty to carry out renovations and enhancements to the ground floor of Fawlty Towers. It's highly unlikely that such a role would be permissible in the modern era, but the hapless O'Reilly's insistence on reminding Basil of things that the Good Lord might have had a hand in is probably the only time in the two series of Fawlty Towers where a guest star took as much credit as John Cleese for the success of an episode. The success was not lost on Kelly, who would say decades later that regardless of his other acting successes across more than 50 years, Fawlty Towers would likely be on his gravestone.
If that brief but memorable performance in Fawlty Towers wasn't enough to cement a place in comedy folklore, what followed for Kelly surely would. As a follow up to the hugely successful Man About the House, Robin's Nest saw Richard O'Sullivan's Robin Trip character settle into a life with partner Vicky (Tessa Wyatt) running a bistro restaurant. Under the disapproving eye of his future father-in-law and reluctant business partner James Nicholls, played by Tony Britton, Trip has advertised for a washer-upper, and Kelly's Albert Riddle arrives to fill the void. Not unlike the famous one-legged Tarzan sketch from Peter Cook and Dudley Moore's Not Only, But Also… Trip sees Riddle having only one arm as a potential snag, something Riddle is oblivious to. Riddle sees only his prison record as an obstacle to his employment and pleads with Trip to ‘rescue a piece of human flotsam,' Trip almost mistakenly hires the one-armed Irishman but in the six series that follows, never finds the heart to release his new staff member, who breaks crockery from the moment he arrives.
Robin's Nest repeated the success of its sitcom predecessor and much of the credit must go to Kelly. Britton's Nicholls is the figure of authority that Robin and Vicky rub up against, but the heart of the show comes from Riddle. He offers slapstick comedy, Irish charm and a down-on-his-luck character that completes the ensemble perfectly. Kelly himself described the show as heaven, despite having to have his arm strapped behind him!
Despite his success on Robin's Nest, Kelly never traded Dublin for London in the name of his career. His roots were vital to him, so it was no surprise that after the end of Robin's Nest Kelly didn't return to British television series, although he gained huge plaudits for his performance as Rashers Tierney in RTE's Strumpet City.
Kelly's role as Mr O'Reilly earned him unending worldwide fame, despite covering only eight minutes of screen time, but amongst his numerous roles over the next few decades, two would bring him to new audiences with his usual gentle Irish charm. In 1998 he starred in Waking Ned, appearing as Michael O'Sullivan, one of two lifelong friends living in the small Irish village of Tullymore trying to persuade the entire village to pretend that he is in fact Ned Devine - the holder of a winning lottery ticket who had died instantly at the shock of his windfall. The entire film had a feel good factor that relied heavily on the amiability of Kelly, who was nominated for a Screen Actors Guild award for his performance, and who gained some female followers for his frantic naked motorcycle ride!
Subsequent to Waking Ned, Kelly would achieve Hollywood fame at a level he had never previously attained when he played Grandpa Joe in Tim Burton's remake of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. His twinkling charm shone through and captured hearts young and not-so-young. Burton said at the time that Kelly was the only actor he wanted for the role, and when honoured with a Lifetime Achievement Award by the Irish Film and Television Academy, Johnnie Depp said of Kelly, ‘You are officially my hero.'
Receiving that award not long before he passed away, Kelly admitted that he never had any real intentions to do anything other than act. He was therefore somewhat bemused and clearly humbled by his honour, admitting that, ‘It is bizarre that I am now being rewarded for having a dream come true.'
Kelly was respected and loved by his co-stars - his style, humour, humility and charm all conspired to make him everything that Mr O'Reilly wasn't. Perhaps then director of the Gate Theatre, Michael Colgan, summed it up best when he said after Kelly's passing, ‘Whatever ‘it' is, David Kelly had it - he had it all.'
When asked once if any of the characters she had played on television reflected her true personality, Dawn French replied "Nope, not really. I keep my own personality in a cupboard under the stairs at home so that no one else can see it or nick it." So, I thought it was about time we looked a little more closely at one of Britain's best-loved actresses to discover that personality for ourselves.
Dawn Roma French was born on October 11 th, 1957 in Holyhead, Wales. Her parents were childhood sweethearts from Devon, and her father, Denys, who was in the Royal Air Force, was at that time stationed in Wales. As a youngster Dawn would often become depressed about her short stature and weight. But her father was a tower of strength for Dawn, impressing upon her how special she was and giving her constant support. "Everything my parents did, they did with such love and such care.... It was my father who taught me to value myself", she once said. "He told me that I was uncommonly beautiful and that I was the most precious thing in his life."
Conversely, in spite of this encouragement Dawn's parents decided that she and her older brother, Gary, should be sent to boarding school. It was felt that because of Denys' military career and the fact that the family moved frequently, Dawn and Gary would have a more stable upbringing if they remained in one place. At the age of 11 Dawn was sent to St. Dunstan's Abbey in Plymouth, where she felt a little ill at ease among the well-to-do pupils. But she soon became a favourite with some of the students, as well as many of the teachers. One teacher in particular was to have a major influence on Dawn -her drama teacher, Ms Abbott.
In 1976, as result of winning a public speaking contest, Dawn was rewarded with a year's scholarship at the Spence School in New York City. During this time she met an Irish sailor, David White, whom she fell in love with. The couple became engaged. However, there was much turmoil and heartbreak ahead for Dawn. Her father, Denys, had retired from the military and became increasingly depressed. In September 1977, at the age of 45, he committed suicide.
It was a very distressing time for Dawn. For someone who had instilled in her a great self-confidence, Dawn's father could not find it within himself to break out of his own depression. Shortly after his death Dawn moved to London where she joined the Central School of Speech and Drama having decided to follow in the footsteps of Ms. Abbott and become a drama teacher.
Her arrival at the Central coincided with the arrival of Jennifer Saunders. There was no instant friendship, though, and according to both women they actually went out of their way to avoid each other at first. But they eventually discovered that they had several things in common. Jennifer's father was a pilot in the RAF and she had also attended boarding school. Like Dawn, she also went abroad after graduation, working for a year as an au pair in Italy. They even discovered that they had shared a mutual best friend during childhood.
In their final year of college, Dawn French and Jennifer Saunders shared a flat with several other students. They quickly realised that they shared a similar sense of humour and began to do impromptu sketches for their flatmates. Jennifer quickly became the boss of the flat while Dawn became her 'right-hand man' who gave the orders to everyone else. They would return to this experience later in their sitcom Girls on Top, although in that scenario Dawn was the bossy one.
Dawn received another blow when fiancé David - with whom she had been carrying on a long-distance relationship since he was working in Sri Lanka - decided that he was in love with another woman and broke off their engagement. She focused on her work making a name for herself as an unorthodox but popular teacher at her school. Then one evening Jennifer noticed an ad in the paper calling for comics to try out for a new club. They auditioned and were accepted.
Dawn finished out her year of teaching while doing stand-up with Jennifer in the evening. They performed at the legendary Comedy Store - a small venue that played a large role in the history of British comedy during the 80s. They were one of the few female comedy acts, but that did not give them immunity from the ferocious heckling that was a part of the Comedy Store experience.
Dawn French has a huge talent that has been proven over and over again. Her warm smile, likeable personality and natural comic timing makes her one of Britain's best loved modern-day television actresses and it surely won't be long before critics and fans alike are singing her praises once more. After all, a gift like that can't be kept hidden away in a cupboard under the stairs for too long.
The same year that the third series of Only Fools and Horses was being made John also found time to write another sitcom that became a firm favourite with viewers. Just Good Friends starred Paul Nicholas and Jan Francis as a pair of ex-lovers who meet up years after he had left her at the altar. Although Only Fools was becoming a runaway success in the UK, John was unable to sell the format to the USA. However, with Dear John, in 1986, he had more success. The series was set around a group of dysfunctional adults who joined a divorced and separated encounter group and starred Ralph Bates as its principle character. Like the early series' of 'Only Fools', Dear John only received modest ratings and after just two series it was taken off. Whether or not it may have resurfaced at some stage will never be known due to the premature death of Ralph Bates in 1991. But in 1988 NBC bought and adapted the series and cast Judd Hirsch in the Bates role. In 1992 John took the basic relationship of the Trotter brothers in 'Only Fools' and transferred them to female counterparts in the series Sitting Pretty. Dianne Bull starred as Annie Briggs, whose millionaire husband had died whilst having an extra-marital affair. Worse still (as far as Annie is concerned) he had left her penniless and she was forced to give up her jet-setting lifestyle to go and live with her parents and dowdy sister in a ramshackle house in Kent. Again the series was not perceived as a great success and only 13 episodes were filmed.
Meet John Lacey, a forty-something language teacher at a Comprehensive School. He has everything; a steady job, nice house, beautiful wife, loving son and a car. Until one day he gets home from work and finds a letter from his wife informing him that their relationship is over...
Job Titles:
- till Death Us Do Part Producer
His daring narratives and innovative storytelling techniques continue to influence playwrights and screenwriters across the globe. A look back on the life and notable works of Dennis Potter
There are very few stars from television's golden age who instantly put a smile on your face. As talented as the likes of Bob Monkhouse and Bruce Forsyth were, one person probably eclipsed them all for just such feelings of warmth and happiness…the late Des O'Connor.
Des O'Connor's story was a proper rags to riches one. There were no entertainment connections handed down through the generations - his father worked the bins, his mother cleaned for a living. It was a childhood of struggle, with little money and Des shackled to callipers until he was six years old. In what would be typical fashion for his life and career, Des chose to just smile and laugh about the challenges.
After a brief flirtation at a sporting life with Northampton Town FC, Des discovered his penchant for entertaining while on national service with the RAF. Allegedly caught by his supervising officer while mimicking him, he was ordered to enter a talent contest that he duly won. The bug had bitten him and once demobbed he took the path many an all-round entertainer would take, that of becoming a redcoat at Butlin's.
In 1958, Des achieved a modicum of success on television, becoming one of the hosts of the little known Granada quiz show, Spot that Tune, which would eventually morph onto Tom O'Connor's huge success, Name That Tune. Des was only co-host, but he was successful enough to get his own variety show offered to him in 1963. The Des O'Connor Show would propel Des into a different world as his stock grew and his fame went worldwide.
Around ten years earlier, while performing together on the same bill in Hull, Des had become friends with two stars in the making. By 1963, the career of those two entertainers was blossoming. Morecambe and Wise were motoring on ATV with Two of a Kind, and Des confided to Eric Morecambe that he wanted to be an international star. ‘I'd like to have an affair with Brigitte Bardot, but we can't have everything can we?' quipped Eric. When Des said he would achieve this by becoming a recording success, Eric retorted that in response, he would join the Royal Ballet! But Des was soon to achieve exactly what he'd wanted.
The Des O'Connor Show combined all elements of variety, and Des himself was adept at comedy and singing in particular. As the show gathered momentum it was picked up for syndication around the world, completing eight series and a number of specials by 1973. Des was now a household name, even if it wasn't always of his own doing. In 1972, Morecambe and Wise made a quip in a sketch with Pete Murray, ironically one of the co-hosts with Des on Spot that Tune. When Ernie answered the telephone and turned to tell Eric that he had great news, Eric responded, ‘Has Des O'Connor got a sore throat?'
Des appeared on The Morecambe and Wise Show a number of times, allowing the audience to see just how much friendship there was behind the barbs the boys would aim his way. The jokes had started as far back as 1953, so it was a solid friendship that allowed them to mock Des in the affectionate way that they did. But by the time they were sending up their pal, Des O'Connor had already become the international star that he'd yearned to be, and it was helped by hitting the top of the charts in 1968 with I Pretend. He would go on to record 36 albums and sell millions of records.
In 1977, four years after his variety show ended, the BBC offered Des O'Connor his own chat show. It would run for six years with the corporation and then become a mainstay for ITV through to its end in 2002. Des didn't want his chat show to be an interview programme. The heavier more inquisitive nature of Parkinson wasn't what he was going for. He wanted to have ‘fun conversations' which was perfect for someone with such a generous and easily drawn out laugh. Coupled with some moments of variety and song, this was the perfect vehicle for Des for 25 years.
One of the most remarkable things about Des O'Connor Tonight was how it managed to survive the changing face of British television comedy. When it started, the comfortable sitcoms were still thriving, and the top comics of the day were still at their peak. When Channel Four appeared on the scene in 1982, bringing alternative comedy to the fore, Des's comfortable sofas seemed inevitable fodder. Comedy from the likes of Ben Elton, French and Saunders and the Not the Nine O'Clock News gang would spell the end for some.
Perhaps what kept Des O'Connor Tonight safe from the new breed of harsher comedians was the fact that rather than try to resist them, Des embraced them. For the entire run of his show, comedy was the key element, and Des would offer a route into the business for new comedians from both sides of the Atlantic. Alan Davies, Bradley Walsh, Joe Pasquale - just a few names among the many who would find their first real fame courtesy of a spot on primetime commercial television, bringing mirth from their host as they offered up their material.
It was the same for the Americans. Robin Williams, David Letterman, Jay Leno, Billy Crystal…heavy hitters from across the pond benefitted hugely from visits to see Des. Indeed, comedian Kelly Monteith received his own series from the BBC off the back of his guest appearance on Des O'Connor Tonight.
Des's edict of just wanting fun conversation oozed out on screen. To the older guard of comics now in their twilight years, he was respectful and sweet. To the younger comics, he was generous with his time, allowing them full remit to perform their scripted material. And all the while, Des would be rolling around on his sofa, crying with laughter. Nobody ever sat next to Des on his sofa, but it was always in full use as he regularly corpsed to one side, clearly loving every second of his guests' performance.
When Des O'Connor Tonight ended it appeared that its host had done all he needed to do. He hosted his own contribution to the hugely successful An Audience With… specials for ITV, and won a Special Recognition Award at the National Television Awards, both in 2001. Had television seen the end of Des as he turned 70? Not a bit of it.
In 2002 he was invited to host ITV's daytime television show, Today with Des and Mel alongside comparative newcomer Melanie Sykes. Des's laid back style was perfect for daytime chat, and while he was no longer pulling in massive audiences on primetime television, Today with Des and Mel was another huge success. It won Best Daytime Show in 2003 and it was somewhat of a surprise when it was axed four years later.
After a few years hosting Countdown, now well into his seventies, Des returned more to theatre performances, but he would still take guest appearances on television, with his final effort being an appearance on the ever-zany Harry Hill's Alien Fun Capsule in 2017 at the age of 85.
It's perhaps fitting that his final appearance should carry the word fun in it. That's pretty much where Des's focus was for the entirety of his career. Seemingly devoid of any show business ego, fun was key for him. It was impossible to find a bad word against him, and understandably so. He wept tears of laughter for many decades on television, matched only by the tears of sadness when he passed away at the age of 88 in 2020. As modern comedians queued up not just to pay tribute, but to thank him for his generosity and support in their own careers, it was clear that the nation held a special place in its heart for Des O'Connor…not short, for Desperate (sorry Eric!)
Desmond Hawkins, a producer at the BBC, became friends with Morris as the Second World War closed. He was enamoured by Johnny's good natured story-telling skills, believing that the skills he showed would make him ideal for a role in radio broadcasting. Hawkins invited Johnny for an audition, and he didn't disappoint.
For the next five years, Morris combined farm management with a part-time radio career, where his improvisational skills and vocal dexterity excelled to the extent that he eventually decided to go into broadcasting full time. Although work was initially inconsistent in its supply, Morris could often be found providing voices or sound effects, and one of his biggest successes in his early days was a programme called Pass the Salt, where he offered his humorous investigative skills on various careers. This stood him in good stead when he landed the most momentous role of his early days, that of The Hot Chestnut Man.
As part of a children's programme called Playbox which launched in 1955, Morris joined a very distinguished company. Eamonn Andrews hosted the programme, with artistic skills offered by Tony Hart, and scripts written by Cliff Michelmore. The Hot Chestnut Man role was Johnny Morris, and he would regale stories to his young studio audience. By 1958, The Hot Chestnut Man had moved on from Playbox and became part of the Monday Magazine children's offering under the title Studio E, eventually becoming a segment of children's television in its own right until the early 1960s, when the career-defining opportunity presented itself.
His private life was littered with failed marriages and affairs and his shows are hardly seen any more, but Dick Emery was watched by millions of viewers every week
Dudley Moore was an exceptional entertainer who had the ability to act, sing, play the piano, compose his own music and - most importantly, make people laugh. A leading figure in the satire boom that swept Britain in the 1960s, his all-round body of work left behind a lasting legacy.
Dagenham may have launched many a motor car over the years, but in 1935 it produced its most famous export - a man whose humble beginnings were an unlikely precursor to the worldwide adulation he would attain. That man was Dudley Moore.
Hailing from a Dagenham housing estate, Dudley had a traditionally troubled childhood that befalls many children who have a visible difference to their peers. In his case, it was in the form of a club foot. It was a feature that Dudley would be hampered by in his formative years, with extensive treatment correcting his right foot but not his left, and which would lead to him turning to humour to prevent the seemingly inevitable bullying that would follow. Dudley would retain an unease about his physical affliction throughout his entire life.
After attending the Guildhall School of Music, Dudley Moore was awarded a scholarship to Oxford. It was not a common occurrence for Dudley's area, and he proudly recalled his Mum, ‘running down the road shouting "My son's going to Oxford!"' The scholarship Dudley had attained was in music, but despite his talents as a musician he would find himself falling in with three future comedic geniuses in the form of Alan Bennett, Jonathan Miller and Peter Cook.
Dudley Moore provided the musical entertainment as the quartet honed their stage act…his musical segments a parody of famous classical compositions. The show the four of them took to the Edinburgh Fringe, Beyond The Fringe, proved a phenomenal success and they found themselves performing it on the West End and in New York as their careers took off spectacularly.
For Dudley, as much as he admired the work of his three colleagues, the one that he found the greatest connection with was Cook, and it was the pair of them that would raise the bar of British television sketch comedy. When the BBC decided that Dudley's musical parodies would make a solid base for a television show, Dudley himself was less convinced. Not Only…But Also was intended to reflect that the show was not only Dudley Moore, but also a guest star. As such, Dudley brought Peter Cook in for the opening episode, somebody he was by now used to working with. His insecurities addressed, the show was a huge success and so the BBC decided to retain Cook, ensuring the double act of Pete & Dud was somewhat inadvertently created.
Not Only…But Also lasted for three series and a Christmas special, but the pair would remain linked for the rest of their careers. Most notable within their television success were the sketches known as the Dagenham Dialogues. Here, Pete and Dud would discuss particular situations in their life. Not unlike the dynamic of Laurel and Hardy, we are treated to the ramblings of one idiot, and another who adopts the attitude of the superior intellect but is actually no wiser than his diminutive friend. The highlight of these sketches were undoubtedly Dudley's inability to deliver the material without collapsing into laughter, normally intentionally drawn from him by Cook.
Cook and Moore were hot stuff in the television world, and they went to Australia to replicate the success of Not Only…But Also down under. They further cemented their reputation by branching into cinema, most notably with Bedazzled, Cook starring as the Devil opposite Moore as he tries to trade wishes in return for the latter's soul.
The relationship Moore had with Cook would sour when Dudley struck gold in Hollywood. In 10 and Arthur he attained worldwide solo fame and even an Academy Award nomination for his portrayal as the millionaire drunk playboy Arthur Bach. Cook and Moore would have a difficult relationship, but it was one that would never go away. But Dudley's Hollywood fame did go away. Having scored such successes with two remarkable comedies in such a short space of time, repeating those successes proved impossible. Some movies would be passable, but most would flop, despite Dudley's best efforts, and he found himself retreating more and more into his music.
During the years when film success eluded him, Dudley remained a regular favourite on television chat shows. In many ways these were the perfect vehicle for him. His loveable character and playful demeanour meant that the warmth the British public maintained for him went unaffected by his defection to the other side of the Atlantic, and such shows rarely went by without an interlude at the piano.
With Dudley unable to find success in Hollywood, he returned to the small screen and his music for solace. Such was his musical passion that British television audiences saw him in a light they had not previous been exposed to. Two successful programmes, Orchestra and Concerto, aired on prime-time Channel 4 to much critical acclaim. In many ways, Dudley was now having the best of both worlds - performing where he was most at home, with his music, while gaining favourable reviews to provide him the acceptance he craved.
His comedic talents and playfulness were by now rarely seen however, and in America his two attempts to return to television comedy failed badly. Dudley and Daddy's Little Girl were both axed before the end of their respective runs having attained poor reviews and viewing figures, but Dudley wasn't overly concerned about the possibility of the shows remaining episodes being picked up, telling lifelong friend Peter Cork and music master from Dagenham High School, ‘it certainly would be unwelcome…since it was the most hard thing I have done in my life.'
In later years, Moore disappeared from our screens as ill-health took control of his life. A rare brain disease, undiagnosed at the time, initially sparked speculation that Dudley had an alcohol problem as he struggled to remember lines, spoke with a slur and most worryingly for him, struggled while at the piano. Once the diagnosis was made, Dudley largely disappeared from public life altogether, aside from collecting his MBE in 2001.
Dudley Moore was a rare commodity indeed. The work that survives of his television material with Peter Cook stands the test of time extremely well, while his best movies and music compositions compare better than most of his contemporaries. Despite all of that though, most fans will remember him for his charm, unmistakable giggle and playful naughtiness…Cuddly Dudley was a one off.
From his early days on the stage to his groundbreaking roles on the screen, Edward Woodward consistently captivated audiences with his immense talent and undeniable charisma
The very best comedy has always sported an essential core of warm humanity. For decades of British television viewers no one conveyed that warmth or humanity more successfully than the great Eric Sykes.
Delighting audiences with her scene-stealing performances in films, television, and theatre, Esma Cannon, with her pixie-like appearance and dotty charm, was one of the most beloved and versatile actresses of her generation
Although initially he didn't think much of television, during his 70 years as an actor, Frank Thornton became one of the best known faces on the small screen, and in the process he became one of our best loved comedy actors.
In the 1950s, Frank Thornton wrote of his scepticism of the new medium of television. Trying to carve out a successful theatrical career, television in his eyes threatened the industry that he had committed himself to and that he held so dear. By the time he died in 2013, Thornton had worked with the finest comic actors in the business, starred in two of the BBC's most internationally successful comedies, and become one of the most recognisable faces on British television. Coupled with being part of an Olivier Award nominated stage musical during an extensive theatrical career and appearing in more than 60 films, it's safe to say Frank Thornton's concerns had been well and truly quashed.
Born in 1921, Frank Thornton Ball had spent many happy hours watching comedy giants like Laurel and Hardy and Buster Keaton on the big screen as a youth while in education at Alleyn's School in Dulwich, influencing the expressions we would grow to love in his future comedy creations. As was so often the case at the time, his parents were wary of the financial insecurity of entering into the acting profession. So it was that young Frank went into insurance, but the financial rewards couldn't suppress his acting ambitions. His father was supportive enough to allow him to attend the London School of Dramatic Art during his evenings and after excelling there he became a day student. By 1940 Frank had taken all he could of the insurance world. Noting in his journals that the financial benefits were, ‘not lucrative enough to compensate for the boredom thereof,' 1 April 1940 saw him commence work as an actor, initially touring with the Yorke Clopet Company in Ireland in Terence Rattigan's French Without Tears.
A year later, Frank joined the touring company of Donald Wolfit, who had been performing Shakespeare on the road and in London since his company's inception in 1937. Wolfit's musical director Rosabel Watson described him as, ‘a nice intelligent actor…no silly mannerisms,' when he was cast as Mosca in Ben Jonson's Volpone. In 1941 Frank had the opportunity to join a repertory company in Sheffield, but despite doing so for a month, he chose to return to London out of loyalty to Wolfit. It was a move that proved pivotal, as in September that year while performing in The Merchant of Venice he met the love of his life, Beryl Evans, an actress that Frank would marry in 1945 and remain wed to for the rest of his life.
Wartime inevitably intervened and in 1943 Frank Thornton Ball received his papers and headed off to Canada for training in the Royal Air Force. During his time there, his thirst for the acting world had to be satisfied with being granted leave, which he put to good use by watching many stage shows in Manhattan. Frank never saw military action, returning to England in 1945. He did however remain with the RAF long enough to be given the role of running the RAF Entertainment Unit which included such future comic luminaries as Peter Sellers and Tony Hancock.
Frank had dropped the Ball from his name when he first launched into his theatrical career, keeping it only for his military service, and so Frank Thornton resumed his theatrical career after being demobbed. He picked up minor television roles in the early 1950s and made his first credited film appearance in 1954 in Radio Cab Murder. However, financial rewards were limited and it was with this in mind that Frank decided to supplement his theatrical income with a side-line in portrait photography. Learning his skills from his father, who printed his own landscape photography, Frank converted the butler's pantry in the family's flat in Earls Court to a dark room and used the dining room of the Victorian building as a studio. Here he would take photos for Spotlight profiles for the likes of Hattie Jacques and Clive Dunn among many others.
After many minor movie and television roles, Frank's big break ironically came courtesy of a big flop. He had been appearing in a musical, The Golden Touch, at the Piccadilly that had proven to be a disaster, with little beyond its musical numbers to give it any credit. After it closed, Michael Bentine offered him a part in Don't Shoot, We're English, a revue that had survived a troubled start in Newcastle to go on and have a successful tour of the country, and when it descended upon the West End Bentine offered Frank a part. Sadly, this show also lasted only a few weeks, Bentine believing that satire had become the rage in London, so the tour's success at seaside resorts was doomed to failure on transferral.
The friendship Thornton and Bentine had struck meant that for his next project, Bentine turned to Frank again, this time with huge success. It's A Square World was a cleverly written award-winning comedy for the BBC depicting bizarre news stories with scale models and Frank appeared in 43 episodes alongside Bentine, Dick Emery, Clive Dunn and a host of other comic performers. It was a time he enjoyed immensely and a first step towards television success, Frank recognising the potential it offered when pondering in his journals, ‘…a series is planned. This will be my first ever. Where will it lead?'
Frank became a constant presence on TV screens beyond It's A Square World. He appeared primarily in comic roles, but such was his success that he could boast an astonishing array of programmes within his CV. He sat with disdainful disapproval of Tony Hancock in the famous Blood Donor episode, appeared in multiple episodes of Steptoe and Son , and performed with some of the finest comics of the time in Harry Worth, Morecambe & Wise, Benny Hill, Frankie Howerd, Eric Sykes and Sid James. He even appeared in the Beatles movie A Hard Day's Night, only for his role to be left on the cutting room floor.
Within this remarkable workload was a pair of appearances in Hugh and I, a comic vehicle for Terry Scott and Hugh Lloyd. Producer of that programme was David Croft, who had an uncanny knack for impeccable casting. Seven years after Frank's second performance in Hugh and I, Croft was casting for a sitcom pilot that was part of the BBC's Comedy Playhouse in 1972. The role that he called Frank in for was that of a sneering floor walker within the clothing department of Grace Brothers Department Store. When regular programming was pulled because of the Munich Olympics massacre in 1972, the BBC turned to its stockpile and aired the pilot of Are You Being Served? from which Frank would gain worldwide fame in the defining role of Captain Peacock.
With his trademark "oohs" and "aahs", Frankie Howerd rose to the very pinnacle of comedic success in the United Kingdom and in spite of a few ups and downs managed to stay there for almost fifty years.
One critic once wrote when reviewing Geoffrey Lancashire's work, "If Geoffrey Lancashire didn't exist, he would have to have been invented."
Geoffrey Lancashire was born, fittingly enough, in Oldham, Lancashire on 12 March 1933, the only child of two council-office workers. Having passed his 11-plus examination he won a place at Oldham Municipal High School for Boys where he was encouraged to write by his English teacher.
On leaving school Lancashire pursued a career in journalism working for the Oldham Evening Chronicle in Union Street. Later, he and Roy Bottomley - also destined to join Granada - started a paper of their own, the Oldham Mirror.
Following his National Service, during which time he learned to speak Russian, he returned to reporting on a freelance basis. When Sidney Bernstein's Granada won one of the first Independent Television franchises in the UK, Lancashire offered his services writing broadcast links and continuity announcements.
One of the things most endearing about Palmer once fame came his way were his sullen looks, somewhere between a bloodhound and Walter Matthau.
Best known as Inspector Wexford in The Ruth Rendell Mysteries, George Baker was the man Ian Fleming wanted to play James Bond.
There are very few modern day television storytellers whose tales span the generations. But each generation of children from the 1950s to the present day are familiar with the name Gerry Anderson. You don't have to be "of a certain age" to have marvelled at the wondrous offerings that Anderson and his talented stable of puppeteers and animators have bought to the screen. Gerry Anderson was to television what Walt Disney was to the movies. But for a man who enthralled generations of both adults and children down the years, his own childhood had a less than fairy-tale start.
Born Gerald Alexander Abrahams on 14 July 1929, Gerry was the second son of Joseph and Deborah Abrahams. After suffering from recurring anti-Semitism at school, the family changed the family name to Anderson. From an early age Gerry Anderson showed a flair and imagination fuelled by his love of the cinema which he visited weekly, usually accompanied by his mother, to see the latest releases. In the meantime, Gerry's brother, Lionel, had joined the RAF as a pilot and was sent to America to do his basic training. On his first tour of duty Lionel undertook thirty missions over the most dangerous air space in the world. Lionel often wrote to Gerry and in one particular letter he enthused over the amazing aerobatics he had witnessed, performed by planes at a nearby airfield to where he was stationed. The airfield was called Thunderbird Field.
Anderson's love of the cinema burned bright in his desire to work in movies, but not as an actor, as it was his yearning to work behind the cameras rather than in front of them. After leaving school he sent off a continuous stream of letters to film companies and studios in search of employment, and eventually received a response from the Ministry of Information offering him a placement with their Colonial Film Unit. Anderson then applied for a vacancy at Gainsborough Pictures, who were one of the biggest independent filmmakers in the country.
In 1947, he was called up to do his National Service. Anderson was sent to Cranwell Radio School where he passed out with the rank of Leading Aircraftsman. It proved to be very influential on his later career and an incident in his final year with the RAF also had a profound effect on him.
Whilst working in the radio tower a message came through that an aircraft with a damaged undercarriage was about to attempt a life or death landing. After a tense approach the pilot managed to bring his aircraft down safely with little injury to himself or his crew. The incident stayed with Anderson for many years and formed the basis of his first Thunderbirds story Trapped in the Sky.
On completion of his National Service Anderson went to Pinewood Studios as a dubbing editor. After a brief time at Elstree he moved on to Shepperton. By 1955, he was working for a small production company based in Taplow, Buckinghamshire. Polytechnic Films was a relatively new company that had been formed specifically to supply programmes to the embryonic Independent Television network. Anderson had been invited to join as a director and quickly struck up a good working relationship with cameraman Arthur Provis. By 1957 Polytechnic had gone into liquidation and with the prospect of unemployment looming, Anderson and Provis decided to form their own production company. They took on three of Polytechnic's existing employees from the art department, Reg Hill who had a career as an artist before going into films and John Read who had done his National Service with the RAF as an airframe fitter. 30 -year-old secretary Sylvia Thamm completed the line-up. They called the company Pentagon Films, but after making a few TV commercials they too went bust. Undeterred, they set up AP Films (Anderson/Provis) and rented space in an Edwardian mansion in Maidenhead, Berkshire. They installed a phone and waited for their first big order. Nothing happened. Six months later, with nothing further happening, the money began to run out and all had to take other jobs to keep the company afloat. Then the phone rang.
Gerry Anderson created a world of children's characters that stand tall alongside the giants of the literary world. Like Alice, Snow White and Mary Poppins, Anderson's characters are simply timeless in their appeal. And in creating these characters he carved a unique place for himself in the heart and consciousness of the television watching public that spans the generations. The kids of the 1960s who grew up watching the thrilling adventures of International Rescue can only marvel as they watch their own children and grandchildren rediscover the magic of Thunderbirds (a new animated series Thunderbirds Are Go! began airing in 2015) and other Supermarionation series each time his productions are re-shown, which is quite often. And until his health worsened, even though he had been showing conditions of the symptoms up to ten years before, the man showed no signs of retiring. "That is just not anywhere in the plan," he said some years before. "The only way I'm going out, I always tell people, is when someone finally cuts the strings."
Born on 28th February, 1925, in Rangoon, Burma, the son of a British Army officer, Harry Corbett was only three when his mother died and he was sent back to England to be raised by an aunt in Wythenshawe, Manchester. Corbett first showed an interest in the theatre when, as a child, he was taken to the Manchester Opera House to see the comedian Leslie Henson.
"I used to spend many a glorious hour in the dear old lovable Coronation Cinema in Wythenshawe. It was a dream palace. I was reared on those marvellous films of the thirties. I idolised all and everything and that's where the spark first flew off the forge, I suppose." - Harry H. Corbett (speaking in 1967).
During the Second World War he served in the Royal Marines but it was soon apparent that he would never become a career soldier:
"I thought the entire set-up was wonderful. But it was just that I was completely miscast. I couldn't really believe it was all happening. I could march perfectly well with a rifle and all but when the band started to play it was all so idiotic I'd curl up with laughter and this did not seem to be appreciated. I was as keen as most to get out of uniform after the war. Me as an Armed Force was a bit comical anyway. I think this was mutually appreciated and eventually the day dawned when it was all over. They pressed 60 "nicker" into my grubby hand and pushed me gently out into the real world."
Following his discharge, Corbett trained as a radiographer, but gave it up (later claiming this was because he couldn't afford to pay for the long training).
"I wanted to be a doctor at one time. Fancied myself very strongly as a do-gooding type healer of the sick. But, of course, it's a long and expensive business and I didn't have the money or the brains to compensate for not having the money. I also wanted to be an actor. So there I was, out in civvy street again. Out of one mob and into another mob and the only difference was the shape of the uniform. But although there was nothing about me that was important I felt great personal happiness. I owned nothing yet the world belonged to me. Great days..."
Harry H. Corbett once said of Harold Steptoe; "I like the part because the man I'm playing is a failure-and failures are often of more interest in life than successes. I think there's a bit of everyone in Harold. Most of us try to put on an act, often behave in a way that's foreign to us. Harold makes fumbling attempts to 'get culture' by reading or listening to highbrow records, by dragging his father to exclusive restaurants and foreign films. He doesn't really succeed in kidding anyone, and somehow his failure is complete and pathetic." In making this assessment of his alter ego it is hard to escape the possibility that Corbett was drawing a parallel to his own professional career. Here was a performer who was initially told by friends and critics that he had the makings of a great classical actor. But, due to a remarkable performance, an innate understanding of the character he was portraying and the instant empathy the audience felt with that character, he became forever rooted in the public consciousness as Harold Steptoe.
"He has his dreams all day, and so do we." Said Corbett of Harold. "It's in all of us and we never lose it. And he's a man in the grip of that terrible dilemma - how long do you stand by your duties and let life slip away from you?" Is that how he felt of his own career? If so, Harrry H. Corbett did himself a great injustice. What he bought to the role of Harold Steptoe was great dramatic pathos, creating a character who struck a chord with the audience in a way that no sitcom character had ever done before. Galton and Simpson's Steptoe and Son changed the sitcom genre forever more, but without Corbett the series would have had far less impact. His was one of the great dramatic/comedic character interpretations of all time - equal to anything he could have created from Shakespeare's works.
"One thing that frightens me-when people ask me to explain my success." He said. "For once you've pinned down the formula, you're finished. After Harold, the junk man, had gone no one would take me seriously. In a movie I was in with Edward G. Robinson, 'Sammy Going South', I was supposed to be a devil, and they just fell about with hilarity. I haven't tried villainy since."
However, to many people there is nothing to indicate that Harry H. Corbett compared the fate of Harold Steptoe to that of his own and neither is there much evidence to suggest that he despised his television character. "Success has meant that people listen to me a bit more. It's the money that does that. You look at two chaps in an office, one earning 50 quid and another 30. It's the bloke on 50 nicker who's going to get listened to. Yes, I've developed quite a bit of admiration for the chaps on the top of the heap. They've got the power. There may be a lot of idiots up there, too, but their voice is louder than anyone else's. To some extent, money has bought me that sort of freedom." But there were hints that this freedom came at a price. "After 'Steptoe' became a success I had to take taxis. I was denied the fundamental right of every Englishman. The right to travel on buses and the tube and keep himself to himself."
The closest the viewing public ever got to seeing the real Harry H was, according to the man himself, in his 1967 TV series Mr. Aitch.
"Mr. Aitch is really an extension of part of me. With Mr. Aitch I feel I've reproduced a character which has been boiling up in my mind for a long time now. Most of my life I have been lucky. I've not always had the money, but I have always been able to act out any part I want to play, whether it's professional on stage or before a real camera; or what passes for real life. And this is probably where Mr. Aitch and Harry H. Corbett come closest together: we are both dedicated to slaving ourselves to death-just so we can be lazy..."
Harry H. Corbett "Most of my life I have been lucky. I've not always had the money, but I have always been able to act out any part I want to play, whether it's professional on stage or before a real camera; or what passes for real life." Also tagged Biography Entertaining Mr Sloane A handsome, sexy and completely amoral young man, joins Kath's household as a lodger and proceeds to manipulate her and her brother. Joe Orton's play made its television debut almost a year after the author was bludgeoned to death by his partner. Also starring Edward Woodward Callan (The Movie) After four hugely successful and audience pleasing seasons, Edward Woodward's down-at-heel British Secret Service assassin, David Callan, got the big screen treatment Also starring Edward Woodward
One would think history would be kind to somebody who headlined their own sitcom for 15 years, was personally endorsed by Laurel and Hardy and counted Morecambe and Wise among their biggest fans. And yet despite this surely unique combination, the bewildered and bewildering character created by Harry Worth is cruelly unheralded in reflections of stars of yesteryear.
Born in 1917 near Barnsley, Harry Illingsworth (the Illings was dropped for a greater stage impact) was, like many of his peers, not born into a showbiz family. His keenness to be on stage stemmed back to his school days, determining to be a ventriloquist after a visit to his school by just such a performer. He worked down the mines from the age of just 14, but continued to try out his comedic talents, even taking his ventriloquist dummy with him when the RAF came calling for national duty, spending six years in service and appearing in a Gang Show in India.
After the war, Worth focussed on his act and in 1947, married his sweetheart Kay Flynn, who convinced him to try an audition in London for renowned Windmill Theatre owner Vivian Van Damm, a shrewd move that set him on his way despite Van Damm allegedly not laughing at his act once before booking him. Worth's most significant success, however, was joining the supporting cast of one of Laurel and Hardy's UK tours of the early 1950s. Appearing on the same bill as the Hollywood legends, it was Oliver in particular who showed an interest in Harry's fledgling career, and when Ollie suggested that he focus on his comedy and ditch the ventriloquist dummy, he naturally took the advice. So enamoured were the boys by Worth that on their next tour, they requested Harry be on the bill once again.
For the rest of the 1950s Harry worked in radio and collected bit parts on stage and screen, but in 1960, the same year he made his Royal Variety Show debut, BBC North offered him a shot at stardom. His debut show, The Trouble with Harry, introduced the nation to a bumbling and bewildered character. Worth played an author seeking publishing success but seemingly without much of a chance. His main companion was Tiddles the cat, along with his Aunt who was regularly referenced but never seen. The show had the backing of producer John Ammonds, who would of course be a huge part of Morecambe and Wise's finest work, and his Midas touch helped this first series work well enough for further shows to be commissioned.
The author storyline was disposed of for the second series as the programme changed its name to Here's Harry, and from then on Harry Worth became a regular on the nation's small screens. The character was a baffled one, well-meaning and mild mannered, but causing confusion and frustration wherever he went. He invariably found himself up against officials or authority figures whose jobs became that much tougher due to Harry's requests. Of the creation of Worth's persona, Ernie Wise remarked, ‘nervousness, worked at, rehearsed and perfected, was the essence of his act.'
The programme went from strength to strength, and in 1966, although keeping the format the same, the show was rebranded to simply Harry Worth, a nod to the star power that followed Harry. At the same time as his television career was thriving, he was touring also under the stage show name of Here's Harry. Seemingly he was unstoppable. People the nation over were trying the trick of standing one half visible at the end of a reflective store window, raising an arm and a leg to give the impression of levitating, allegedly a trick devised by writer Vince Powell. Powell himself was among the writers for Here's Harry his first steps of a glowing writing career that gave us such successes as Nearest and Dearest, Bless This House and Never the Twain, among a host of other notable programmes.
Harry Worth ended in 1970, but Harry himself continued to work regularly, turning to commercial television for further success with Thirty Minutes Worth and My Name is Harry Worth all the while continuing with the persona of the bumbling, good natured fool causing chaos wherever he went. He once said, ‘Other people can do the most embarrassing things - and they get loads of sympathy. But if I do anything like that, people scream with laughter!'
Eventually though, comedy moved on, and Harry got lost somewhere in the process. After My Name is Harry Worth ended in 1974, aside from a recurring guest role in How's Your Father?, Worth would only have one more starring role on television, but it didn't go to plan. In 1980, sitcom legend David Croft and writing partner Jeremy Lloyd called upon Harry to play Mr Beddington in their latest sitcom, Oh Happy Band! Beddington was the conductor of a village brass band that was leading efforts to resist the building of a new airfield destined to destroy their homes. The problem was that the part had been specifically written for Gorden Kaye, who would so successfully resist the Germans in ‘Allo, ‘Allo. Strikes at ITV meant Kaye's schedule changed and he could no longer commit to a series if the pilot was a success. Beddington had been written as a rather devious character amongst a collection of bewildered idiots. Having made his career playing the well-meaning idiot, asking Harry to be a more cunning and cynical character completely went against type. Croft and Lloyd tried transferring the more deviant elements of the lead character to another, leaving Harry to portray the kind of person that he always had done, but somehow it didn't work out. It was a most unusual comedy in as much as the BBC gave the green light for a second series, but Croft and Lloyd decided against it, and the show has been almost completely hidden from view since its first transmission.
Harry would not appear on TV again, but continued working on stage, appearing with his old ventriloquist act again on the Royal Variety Show, and touring briefly in 1987 in See How They Run, before illness started to take its toll. After a lengthy cancer battle, Harry Worth passed away in 1989.
There's no doubting that to continue with essentially one on-screen persona is a risky business for a comedy performer, but Harry Worth was a glorious success as the bumbling idiot. Part Frank Spencer, part David Jason in his Sharp Intake of Breath days, and even with an element of Victor Meldrew, there are plenty of subsequent characters that owe a nod to Worth. Perhaps the success of One Foot in the Grave shows how the changing styles of comedy have kept Worth from having his due recognition as while he and Victor fought similar battles, Meldrew had by far a more combative approach than the mere well-meaning confusion that Harry brought.
It's a shame that Worth is not normally given his dues when reflecting on comedy greats. Without repeats of his shows he is almost a forgotten man of comedy, despite the massive success and respect he garnered. To paraphrase a catchphrase that was often attributed to him, ‘…I don't know why, but there it is.'
Harry Worth perfected the role of the perpetually bemused, exasperated, but endearing misfit who was always one step behind the rest of the world
Honor Blackman has continued to grace the small screen with guest appearances in a number of established series', the most famous of which was Coronation Street (2004) as the flirtatious pensioner Rula Romanoff. "I was terribly surprised. I never thought I'd be in something like this, and I never thought they would ask me," she said. "When I read the script I thought it was so much fun, and it's the best soap in the country. It is so iconic." And as she approached the grand age of eighty there was no hint of her slowing down. She did a one-woman show called Word of Honor and in 2007 she took over from Sheila Hancock the role of Fraulein Schneider in Cabaret at the Lyric Theatre in London's West End. It was her first West End role for 20 years and she found it exhilarating. "When I put my foot on the stage, I come alive and that's it. It's always a bang. It's thrilling, I think, theatre. Thrilling." And because of that thrill there has never been a thought of retiring. "I shall retire when I'm made to retire." She said. "I mean when nobody offers me a job or my memory goes or I can't walk or when I die! I mean we're so lucky, it's not like going into the office, it's so varied and you don't know what is round the corner."
Hugh Lloyd found fame in 'Hancock's Half Hour' and his was a perenially popular face in television sitcoms throughout the 1960s and 1970s. In this article, Television Heaven pays tribute to an actor who charmed Britain for over half a century
Certain actors and actresses have left an indelible mark on the entertainment industry, carving their names into the hearts of the public for generations to come. Irene Handl, born on 27 December 1901, in Maida Vale, London, was one such performer. Perfecting the role of a slightly eccentric cockney old lady, with her unique blend of wit, charm, and an unmistakable stage presence, Handl became a beloved figure and an icon of British film and television.
The younger of two daughters of a Viennese father -who had worked his way up from bank clerk to stockbroker before becoming a private banker- and a German mother, both of whom became naturalised British subjects, Irene grew up in a relatively comfortable middle-class family who enjoyed the luxury of employing a live-in German cook and housekeeper. From 1907 to 1915, she attended the Paddington and Maida Vale High School, and in the 1920s, she travelled several times to New York with her father, before she began to study at an acting school run by a sister of Dame Sybil Thorndike. She made her stage debut in London in February 1937, at the relatively advanced age of 36.
Boasting a career spanning more than five decades, Irene Handl captivated audiences with her impeccable comedic timing and remarkable versatility brought to life by the witty and eccentric characters that became her trademark
Rosenthal left behind a legacy of a vast catalogue of plays, films and television series that include some of the finest dramas ever broadcast on television.
From an impoverished and painful beginning, she rose to become a hugely talented actress whose resilience, generosity and kindness was much admired by her contemporaries
Many people today will be unfamiliar with the name Jacqueline Mackenzie. The British born writer and TV presenter had a brief career in the 1950s as an actress before embarking on a new one as a news reporter, quickly becoming a favourite of producers and the public with her sharp, lively, and quirky delivery on programmes like Highlight, Newsnight and Late Night Extra. Her coverage of the wedding of Prince Rainier to Princess Grace in 1956 won her the Prix d 'Italia. Mackenzie was sharp, a gifted mimic with a lively comical acidity and a face that could suddenly take on bizarre mannerisms. She forged a completely fresh form of reportage, live to camera, that made television history. But her life changed whilst on a visit to America, in 1957, where she had her first lesbian affair. In the 1960s, Mackenzie, as Jackie Forster, became a trailblazing gay rights activist speaking openly about her identity and helping viewers find the strength to accept themselves. Jackie's courage in coming out during less enlightened times made her a role model to thousands.
Jacqueline Moir Mackenzie was born on 6 November 1926 in London, to Scottish parents. Her father served as a colonel in the Royal Army Medical Corps, stationed in British India, and as a result, Jackie spent most of her early years there. At the age of six, Jackie's parents decided to send her to a boarding school in the United Kingdom. She attended Wycombe Abbey and then moved on to St. Leonards School in Fife. Good at sports, she played lacrosse and hockey for Scotland during the Second World War. After the end of the War, Jackie made her foray into acting and joined Edinburgh's Wilson Barrett repertory company before moving to London in 1950 and attending the Arts Theatre Club.
The British born writer and presenter whose brief TV career in the 1950s was a prelude to her coming out - becoming a trailblazing gay rights activist and making her a role model to thousands
Job Titles:
- First True Superstar Programmer
James Aubrey was the man who paved the way for such notable decision makers such as Fred Silverman and Brandon Tartikoff. But Aubrey was in a class by himself. Unlike NBC's Sylvester "Pat" Weaver, who tried to uplift tastes with various programmes (and in the process helped create the early morning news-entertainment program, the late-night variety show and the one-show "spectacular," or "special") Aubrey was single-minded in his pursuit of the largest possible audience. A rather ruthless man, Aubrey was an executive who lived hard and played just as hard. A combination of factors led to James Aubrey's departure as president of the CBS television network after nearly six years. But while he was at the helm, CBS was the network to beat in the ratings, and his competition knew it.
Born James Thomas Aubrey Junior on December 14th, 1918 in LaSalle, Illinois, he graduated from Harvard University with a bachelor's degree in 1941. Soon after, he became a test pilot for the U.S. Air Force during World War Two. (He reportedly taught actor Jimmy Stewart how to fly.) After the war, Aubrey started selling advertising for various magazines before moving to KNX, the CBS-owned Los Angeles radio station in 1948. He began selling time on the station, and soon after sold ad time on its sister television station KNXT. By 1952, he moved up to sales manager and then general manager of KNXT, where he did well enough to get a job at the CBS network, where he was named West Coast programmer. It was during that time that he co-wrote the outline for a new Western series, which later became Have Gun, Will Travel, a major success for the network that ran from 1957 through 1963.
But Aubrey wanted to run an entire programming department. So in 1956, he accepted a job offer from ABC to become that network's head programmer. At the time, ABC was a shadow of CBS and NBC, with relatively few hits and even fewer affiliates to broadcast them. Aubrey helped network president Oliver Treyz develop and purchase a number of series which would become major successes for ABC, including Maverick, The Real McCoys, The Donna Reed Show, The Rifleman, and 77 Sunset Strip.
By 1958, ABC's ratings were on the rise, but Aubrey felt with Treyz at the helm, there was not much of a future for him at the third-ranked network. CBS watched from a distance and lured Aubrey back, first as an assistant to President Frank Stanton, then as executive vice-president of creative services. A year later, fate intervened once again.
James Aubrey was probably the first true superstar programmer of an American television network and the man behind some of the biggest hits on TV. But a career tainted by allegations of arrogance, 'kickbacks' and bizarre sexual behaviour, earned him the nickname of "The Smiling Cobra"
Character actor, comedian and voice artist John Bluthal was one of the most recognised faces on British television for decades with over 130 screen credits including Fireball XL5, a memorable Pink Panther movie appearance and two Beatle films
John Esmonde and Bob Larbey have unquestionably been responsible for some of British comedy's best loved programmes. From the comfort of suburbia in The Good Life to the darker world of Mulberry, the writers have given us some of the most memorable characters on television. But success for Esmonde and Larbey didn't come easily and their story is one of how persistence and talent paid off.
The pair first met at grammar school in Clapham, where Larbey was three years ahead of Esmonde. In spite of the age difference the two shared a school trip to Switzerland where they discovered that they shared a similar sense of humour, and it was based on this that they forged their long-lasting friendship. After military service they drifted back into a humdrum civilian life and took mundane, unfulfilling jobs just to make ends meet. They would often meet up for lunch and complain about their dead-end jobs and dream of forging a better way to make a living.
Their mutual enthusiasm for radio and comedy revues inspired them to have a go at writing themselves, and so, each evening they would meet at John's house and hammer out short comedy skits. However, their early offerings were continually rejected and at times they wondered if they were not wasting their time. But perseverance finally paid off and they eventually managed to sell a short one-off radio skit. Encouraged by this the duo wrote more and more material until finally one of their sketches was bought by the BBC for the long-running Dick Emery Show. More commissions for 'Emery' followed and eventually a steady stream of work came their way. They kept their jobs for the first year but eventually the strain of working during the day and writing comedy at night began to take its toll in the form of physical exhaustion. In the end one career was going to have to go, and encouraged by the positive feedback their writing was getting -in particular by people such as Marty Feldman and comedy writer/producer Barry Took, they ditched the day job. It wasn't easy, though, and in particular Larbey's wife was called on from time to time to take over as the family breadwinner when wages were not coming in regularly.
Their next break came when a BBC radio producer asked them if they were interested in writing a half-hour comedy show. They readily accepted the challenge and the result was Spare A Copper, a comedy which, as its title suggests, is about a policeman. The series lasted two seasons and in the process Esmonde and Larbey learned a lot about how to structure thirty minutes of comedy as opposed to the short skits they'd been doing. They also learned a lot about how to create well-rounded sitcom characters.
With the success of Spare Me a Copper on radio, Esmonde and Larbey moved into the world of television sitcom. Their first effort was called Room At The Bottom, the plot of which revolved around maintenance men working at a manufacturing plant. Shown as part of Comedy Playhouse, Room At The Bottom was deemed successful enough by the powers-that-be at the BBC to warrant an entire season of seven episodes. And although it wasn't picked up for a second season, it was a valuable experience and a programme that both writers look back on with pride.
In 1968 the pair scored their first big hit with the comedy Please, Sir! starring John Alderton as newly qualified teacher Bernard Hedges, as he tried to tame the most unruly class at Fenn Street School, 5C. Following on from the success of the 1967 feature film To Sir, With Love, Please, Sir! was an instant hit and ran for a total of 56 episodes becoming the first major sitcom success for the newly formed London Weekend Television. There was a feature film based on the series and a US version-Welcome Back Kotter as well as a sequel series, called The Fenn Street Gang, which ran for an additional 49 episodes on ITV.
In 1972 LWT commissioned another pilot from Esmonde and Larbey entitled Cosmo And Thingy starring Graham Stark. The story was set in prehistoric times, with the entire cast playing humble cavespeople. But LWT were unimpressed and the one-off was only screened the wrong side of midnight and therefore seen by very few viewers. The following year the duo had a minor hit with Bowler, starring George Baker, a series that ran for 13 half-hours. That same year Esmonde and Larbey wrote another one-off sitcom, Football Crazy, which starred Benny Hill regular, Bob Todd. The programme was shown as part of a children's series called Funny Ha Ha.
For their next sitcom Esmonde and Larbey referred back to their national service days. The subject had already been covered successfuly in the Granada produced sitcom, The Army Game-but Esmonde and Larbey's treatment of the subject proved just as popular and Get Some In! starring Tony Selby and featuring Robert Lindsay in his first major TV role, was destined to run for the next three years.
That same year Esmonde and Larbey switched TV channels to create their best remembered sitcom-The Good Life. Drawing on personal experience yet again, Esmonde and Larbey remembered the days when they were stuck in a dead-end job with few prospects to escape the hum-drum of everyday life. "I think it was a good idea." said Bob Larbey in an interview. "We started with the premise of somebody reaching his fortieth birthday. People think of it as one of those milestone ages, the "Oh, God, what have I done with my life? What do I do about it?" That was the premise. In their original draft Tom Good was going to build a yacht and sail around the world, but they then hit on a subject that was far more trendy at that time. "We added the self-sufficiency, which seemed a good idea. It started slowly--bad reviews and low audiences, and then somewhere in the second series it just took off and flew. And it sort of passed into legend for some reason."
Job Titles:
- Thames Television 's New Head of Light Entertainment
An influential figure in the world of British television comedy during the 1960s and 70s, actor and comedian John Junkin wrote scripts for numerous TV shows and for many comedians, including Ted Ray, Jim Davidson, Bob Monkhouse and Mike Yarwood.
John Steed is back! With his new team of Purdey and Gambit, they find themselves facing new and deadly dangers in the bizarre world of espionage.
John Sullivan was born in 1946 and grew up in the South London district of Balham. His father, John senior, worked as a plumber and his mother, Hilda, occasionally added to the family's income by working as a charlady. At school John Jnr was a reluctant pupil and showed little interest in any of the subjects being taught. Then, one day a new English teacher, Mr Trowers, arrived and rather than have the class sit and read in silence he actually read the books to them, acting it out and doing all the different character's voices too. As Sullivan was to later recall, Mr Trowers made the books "come alive." John became interested in English and in particular the work of Charles Dickens who's stories, more than any other author, seemed to be the inspiration for him to pick up a pen and start writing himself. However, by school-leaving age John was resigned -like most of his classmates- to getting out and finding a job as quickly as possible in order to earn money and help out the family. To this end he wasn't bothered about exams. "We knew we were going to be factory fodder so there seemed little point in trying."
Rather than ending up in a factory, John got a job as a messenger -firstly for Reuters and then for the advertising agency Collett, Dickinson and Pearce, who amongst others employed future filmmakers David Puttnam and Alan Parker. He was paid the princely sum of £3.50 a week. After a year with Collett, Dickinson and Pearce, John went to work for a second-hand motor trader cleaning vehicles and making them look attractive to prospective buyers, eventually progressing to salesman. His wages went up to a massive £20.00 a week and John was able to help out more at home enabling the family to have (amongst other things) a telephone installed for the first time. During this period in his life John's main interest outside of work was football and he regularly played for local team Southside Athletic. However, this soon changed when John went to work for Watney's Brewery, where he met with an ex-school friend, Paul Saunders. Paul showed John a newspaper article about TV scriptwriter Johnny Speight, which said that he earned £100.00 for each episode that he wrote of Till Death Us Do Part. Paul told John that he felt the two of them could come up with something and encouraged by his friends enthusiasm, John went out and purchased an old typewriter for about £2.00. For the next two months the pals developed an idea for a sitcom that they called Gentlemen, which was about an old soldier who ran an old fashioned gents toilet. The idea was rejected by the BBC and this put Paul off the idea of writing, but not so John. "I'd enjoyed the process of writing and developing characters so much that I carried on my own."
Regretting having not paid more attention at school, John bought himself a number of self-help books and began studying English and Maths. By 1972 he was working as a plumber, even though -by his own admission, he wasn't very good at it. It was around this time that he met a pretty secretary called Sharon. He continued to submit script ideas to the BBC and they continued to reject them. In 1974 John and Sharon were married and John decided to apply for a job at the BBC, his reasoning being that on the inside he may have more chance of making the right connection that could help him realise his dream of being a scriptwriter. He wrote to the BBC explaining why he wanted to work there and they agreed to give him a job on condition that he didn't make a nuisance of himself or pester any of the stars. By now he had developed an idea for a sitcom about a would-be revolutionary who lived in South London. John was employed by the BBC as a scenery shifter, but it didn't deter him from approaching veteran producer Denis Main Wilson with his idea. Wilson suggested that John go away and write some one-off comedy sketches for shows such as The Two Ronnies and Dave Allen. Breaking his promise not to pester the stars, John approached Ronnie Barker for advice. Ronnie asked to see samples of John's work which was duly delivered to the star a week later and Ronnie liked them enough to put John on a contract to continue writing for the show. John now went back to Denis Main Wilson and tried once more to sell his idea for the series about the revolutionary. Eventually Wilson agreed for John to go away and write a pilot episode. John took two weeks' leave and went to his in-laws home in Crystal Palace where he wrote the first episode of Citizen Smith.
Having delivered the script to Wilson, John took another week off before phoning the producer for his verdict. Wilson, it seems, had been frantically trying to get in touch with John since reading the script. By the time that John got round to phoning him, Wilson was able to tell the writer that Citizen Smith was going to be included in the Comedy Special series, the successor to the immensely successful Comedy Playhouse series that had given rise to some of BBC television's all time comedy classics. The pilot was received well enough for a full series to go into production and this was aired from 3rd November to 15th December 1977. Three more series followed but by 1980 it became apparent that John had taken the characters as far as they could go, and he set about writing a new sitcom about a football manager. The series was called Over The Moon and was to star George (Inspector Wexford) Baker and Brian (Last of the Summer Wine, Porridge) Wilde as the manager of a down-on-its-luck club. The pilot was filmed at Television Centre on 30th November 1980 and the BBC were suitably impressed. Then disaster struck. Bill Cotton, who was BBC1 controller at the time, returned from a trip to the USA and, after viewing the pilot episode, decided to kill it off.
The man who was to be in charge of Over the Moon was senior BBC producer and director Ray Butt. He and Sullivan got together for a lunchtime drink in order to drown their sorrows following the shows cancellation. During this meeting John told Ray of an earlier idea he'd had about a South London street trader, a wheeler-dealer, the type who would sell his own mother for the right price. Unfortunately he'd already suggested this idea to BBC Head of Light Entertainment, Jimmy Gilbert, a few years before and had been given a very firm no. Ray Butt thought it was a great idea. A few weeks after his conversation with Ray Butt, John delivered a draft script to his office for a pilot that was called Readies. Ray Butt took the script to Head of Comedy, John Howard Davis, and within weeks a full series was given the green light. John then dropped the working title of Readies and replaced it with Only Fools and Horses, (which had been the title of a 1979 Citizen Smith episode) because he felt that it summed up the character of Derek Trotter, the South London wide-boy, whose philosophy in life was reflected in the saying that "only fools and horses work". Butt set about casting the key characters for the show. The man he wanted for the part of Del-Boy was Enn Reital. However, Reital was unavailable so Ray then turned to Jim Broadbent, but he too was committed to work elsewhere. Finally, after watching an episode of Open All Hours, Ray decided to approach David Jason.
As the writer of one of Britain's all-time favourite sitcoms, John Sullivan joined a unique group of scriptwriters, whose names became almost as well-known as their television creations.
For learning about the animal kingdom, there was one man who stood out and to whom we all turned in order to learn about our feathered or furry friends - Johnny Morris. For more than 400 episodes, he hosted Animal Magic on the BBC, educating young minds and teaching them all about how the animal kingdom worked and in a style that ruffled some feathers but captivated his audience with his gentle humour.
Born in Newport in 1916, Morris had a significant number of siblings. He once described himself and his brothers and sisters as starlings, all mimics, and as the youngest one he felt that he needed to mimic just that little bit more loudly to be noticed. Morris had initial thoughts of being an actor, aspirations he quickly disposed of on account of his less then leading man looks. Instead, a life in the legal profession seemed to be what was beckoning for him.
To an entire generation of British children he was the closest we've ever had to a real-life Doctor Doolittle. Not only was his show magic - so was Johnny Morris
June Medford have moved from the big city to the pastoral community of Purley in Surrey. Despite June's efforts to enjoy the tranquillity of country life, Terry just can't avoid getting into trouble.
Somewhere within his marathon stage shows, which were notorious for running in excess of five hours into the early hours of the morning, Ken Dodd, who largely ignored references to his own appearances on television, threw in just one comment that, ‘I don't do much television these days because I can't cook!' But to simply consider ‘Doddy' as a stage comedian rather than somebody that had a successful television career would be an error. It's just fair to say that television rarely quite managed to properly capture the endearing magic of our Ken's Happiness Show that he toured with until his nineties.
Born Kenneth Arthur Dodd in 1927, many people believed that his birthplace, Knotty Ash, was actually a fictitious town. Dodd made such continual references to a bizarre childhood of jam butty mines and Diddy Men, something originally conjured up by Arthur Askey, that his audiences often believed Knotty Ash was merely a creation of Dodd's brilliant comedy mind, but it was arguably the love of his life. Dodd was born in the same Knotty Ash house he would inhabit for his entire life, passing away there in March 2018.
Dodd's early years would provide the breeding ground for many of the stories that would inhabit his routines for his entire life. Working with his coal merchant father from the age of 14 and travelling the country with a ventriloquist doll from 18, he would finance his comedy performances by touring as a hardware salesman. Throughout his career, ventriloquism formed part of his full act, with favoured Diddy Man puppet Dicky Mint remaining a closing part of his routine all the way to his final show in 2017.
Through years of toil on the comedy club circuit, Dodd eventually got his breakthrough in 1954 as a minor part of a variety show at the Nottingham Empire. Amongst his skits was a version of On The Road to Mandalay performed wearing a sombrero with dangling ping-pong balls, another routine that would remain for many years. His rise to stardom would be at a rate of knots. Within a year, he was making his television debut on The Good Old Days, a perfect vehicle for his audience-involving ‘How about you missus?' style of comedy.
Television beckoned and despite being in its infancy Doddy, as he would affectionately be referred to by the majority of his fans, had his first full series by the late 1950s. The Ken Dodd Show ran across the 1960s, and during this time he became hot property. By the end of the 1950s, he had added the song Love Is Like A Violin to his stage show, and it spawned an additional career as a singer, which in itself was a remarkable success. Love Is Like A Violin became a top ten hit, with Tears hitting the number one spot in 1965.
Dodd had surprisingly twice turned down appearing on the hit television show of the day, Sunday Night at the London Palladium. However, with Tears flying high in the charts, Dodd began an astonishing 42-week sell-out run at the Palladium in Doddy's Here, where he developed his act to perfection and gained his reputation for running longer shows than anybody else in the business.
When Dodd was asked to elaborate on his comedy content, he simply said it was a reflection of life - he spoke of the audience, the towns of his venues at the time, ingratiating himself to the expectant crowd. He used his own bizarre dialect at times and as his various television shows gained popularity, he discovered a new audience in the form of family comedy and the Diddy Men. His appearance remained an integral part of his routine. Bucked teeth, which he admitted he could have had fixed but were an essential visual part of his act, his bizarre mess of hair - they were all ingredients in the persona that he honed throughout his career.
By the time The Ken Dodd Laughter Show hit screens in 1979, public tastes were changing. The Ken Dodd Laughter Show was essentially an extension of his stage show. Doddy would arrive immediately addressing his studio audience, advising them of the theme for the show and then launching into musical compilations before following with a mixture of themed stand-up monologues and sketches. It was all delivered at the relentless pace audiences were so accustomed to hearing.
But as successful as Dodd was, television comedy was become edgier. His stage show contained a certain level of Blackpool postcard-style bawdiness, but vulgarity was never a line he wanted to cross. All was innuendo and nothing more, and aside from a six episode series in 1982 on the business of show business, Doddy would never resurface in his own series again.
As Dodd's television powers fell away, the 1980s became a decade of turmoil for Dodd. Brought in front of the courts on allegations of tax fraud, a bizarre trial ensued where Dodd could still not resist the audience before him, and as colleagues queued up to provide character references and with help from a remarkable defence, he was acquitted after a five-week trial. Eventually, the experience would creep into comic material for his act - ‘self-assessment? I invented that!'
Television had a strange relationship with Dodd in the last 30 years of his career. It acknowledged the quality of his comedy and paid tribute to it within numerous documentaries. He was even the subject of a special 500 th episode of This Is Your Life, but television never found him a new vehicle of his own. In 1994, An Audience with Ken Dodd was aired and he believed that his helped him reinvent his career and find another new audience. The programme was such a success that he returned for Another Audience with Ken Dodd in 2002. Both shows were phenomenally popular and perfectly blended his stage show with a television viewership.
Ken Dodd said he believed he could give people happiness. In a 1994 Face To Face edition of The Late Show, Dodd was asked about whether he would ever retire. The answer was a firm ‘no,' health permitting. ‘I can't think of anything more wonderful than to go onto a stage, or into a television studio, or a radio studio and just to give laughter - to hear the sound of laughter and know that I had something to do with making them laugh.' To paraphrase Dodd's closing tune, he certainly provided more than his share of happiness.
Described variously as the 'last great music-hall entertainer', 'the clown prince of comedy' and 'the squire of Knotty Ash', Ken Dodd tickled the British public for over 60 years. His live shows were legendary...and long! - "This isn't television, missus," he'd say, "you can't turn me off."
After the war he briefly returned to acting but soon became both a sports commentator and a Radio Luxembourg DJ. When ITV was given the green light to broadcast to the nation in the mid 1950s Walton sent in his application and was hired by head of Associated-Rediffusion, Roland Gillett. Walton was assigned to sport, covering such events as tennis, badminton and football. He also introduced one of the earliest commercial TV pop music shows, Cool for Cats. Soon promoted to Sports Programme Organiser, Walton became very much involved in the planning and operation of ITV's weekly Cavalcade of Sport.
Walton was chosen by A-R's Head of Sports, Ken Johnstone, to commentate on the first televised wrestling bout in 1955. Walton was given the job with just a week's notice despite never having been to a bout, so a couple of days before he went down to the gym with Mick McManus and got him to demonstrate the various holds. Soon Walton had mastered the terminology and allegedly began to make up names for moves himself.
On 9 November 1955, at 9pm he introduced TV viewers to All In Wrestling for the first time. The show was broadcast from West Ham Baths and signalled the start of a 30 + year run which was only ended in 1988 by ITV's Head of Sport, Greg Dyke, because he felt it 'presented the wrong image' to the channel's viewers and advertisers. But during that run wrestlers such as Mick McManus, Steve Logan, Les Kellett, Giant Haystacks and Big Daddy became household names.
It was a poor decision by Dyke and a few years after wrestling was axed, backed by the big US networks, American Wrestling became a multi-million-dollar industry. At the height of its popularity Saturday afternoon wrestling in the UK attracted a regular audience of 12 million viewers. Finishing just before the football results, Walton would sign of with his trademark "Have a good week - till next week." Reportedly among wrestling's biggest fans were Margaret Thatcher and the Queen.
Walton did numerous voice-overs for television commercials and was one of the founders of Pyramid Films responsible for making a number of easily forgettable 1970s cheap 'skin-flicks'. But to wrestling fans of a certain age throughout Britain, Kent Walton will be always be remembered quite simply as "The Voice of Wrestling". Kent Walton passed away on 24 August 2003, just two days after his 86th birthday.
For most of the stalwarts of the Carry On movie franchise, television subsequently provided a steady run of small screen success. Sid James had performed in a number of sitcoms before finding huge success in Bless This House, Barbara Windsor spent many years ruling Albert Square in EastEnders and the likes of Hattie Jacques, Joan Sims and Kenneth Connor would all find regular sitcom work. Strangely, however, arguably the name most synonymous with the bawdy comedy series never quite found a regular home on the small screen, despite being one of the most famous faces - and voices - on the box…Kenneth Williams.
Williams first came to the British public's attention via Tony Hancock. Having been brought in by Denis Main Wilson to appear on Hancock's Half Hour in 1954 on radio, Williams was happy to do so, but despite the success was, somewhat inevitably, largely critical of his own performances. Hancock tried to convince Williams that he was wasting his time in legitimate theatre (he was appearing in Saint Joan at the time), but Williams was of course a difficult man to critique.
Hancock's Half Hour was a glorious success, and the range of vocal talents Williams brought to a variety of parts ensured that his own stock rose along with the show. But it was exactly this that seemed to cost him. Hancock and Williams had been friendly and socialised a lot but by 1957, with a series of the television version complete, Hancock had tired of the voices. Despite the success of such phrases of ‘Stop messin' about,' and ‘No don't be like that,' Hancock was gravitating to Sid James as a co-star - ‘so much for the obligations of loyalty,' Williams bemoaned in his diary as he reflected that he was unlikely to be cast again for subsequent series.
Kenneth's talents would not be suppressed however, and he found a more enjoyable home in Beyond Our Ken and Round the Horne, two huge radio successes that allowed him more freedom to be outrageous opposite Kenneth Horne and Hugh Paddick with such memorable characters as West Country folk singer Rambling Syd Rumpo and the Sandy half of camp comedy pairing Julian and Sandy. He also found a permanent home as regular guest on Just a Minute, staying with the show until his death in 1988.
At the same time as his radio career took off, Kenneth Williams the movie star was becoming famous. His flaring nostrils and air of superiority saw him shine in Carry On Sergeant, the first of the franchise, and he would continue to appear largely as authority figures to be mocked all the way through to the end of the series of movies. It's safe to say that his voice and his appearance made him one of the most recognisable talents in the business.
But for all the radio and cinema success, mixed with some theatrical performances of note as well, television just didn't know what to do with Kenneth Williams. One attempt was The Kenneth Williams Show in 1970. Touted as a kind of cabaret show, it proved an unmitigated disaster and only survived one series. Williams himself felt it was terrible, and few disagreed. Of its reception, he recalled, ‘My theory is that they hate it too, but because of the death of J(ohn) L(awe) [who wrote the show] they've decided silence is best.'
Despite not falling out of favour with the public, Williams did not do another series on television until 1980, when he appeared in the adaptation of Peter Eldin's children's books, The Whizzkids Guide. Involving a number of adults dressed as schoolchildren, alongside Arthur Mullard among others, it was another short run. Williams admitted to doing the show out of the fear of the boredom of idleness, but conceded that the problem with that approach was that, ‘you land up in tatsville.'
The vocal talents of Williams were not limited to radio use and to a generation of children, perhaps his most famous success on the small screen was actually in animation. The glorious interpretations of the inhabitants of Doyley Woods saw Kenneth bring life to The Moog, Fairy Mave, Arthur the Caterpillar and their horrible nemesis, Evil Edna, a villainous television set in Willo the Wisp. It was hugely popular in a five-minute teatime slot and perfectly suited for Williams, who had a long relationship with the BBC's children's output having been a frequent reader on the long-running storytelling show Jackanory. Indeed his final television series would be another voiceover as a robot in the little remembered children's sci-fi comedy Galloping Galaxies.
For Kenneth, it seemed that his lot on television was in performing not as a character but as Kenneth Williams himself, which of course caused him much angst as he was his own worst critic, far beyond the standard self-criticism so many comedians suffered from. He was a popular guest on any kind of panel show, and a frequent visitor to the thrice-weekly Wogan, even hosting the show on occasion when Terry took his holidays. But he himself was all too aware that his presence on the chat show circuit was not enough to keep him satisfied. ‘Oh, the fact is (on these chat shows) that I've been eating at myself for years…just living off body fat,' he bemoaned. ‘People say "All he does now is go on and tell those old stories we've all heard before with his usual lavatory gags and his camp blether…" Pathetic.'
Perhaps his best remembered television appearance came when he took his turn in the hugely successful An Audience With… series for LWT. It rather summed Kenneth up as he could be hysterical, outrageous and recall a host of stories from his career and soak in the adoration of his peers.
But in the end, Kenneth and television just didn't seem to be the perfect marriage, despite the British public never falling out of love with him, however critical he might be of his fans. He once recorded in his diary that, ‘I would willingly exchange it all for anonymity and a steady uninspiring job which required diligence and integrity. Heaven knows what I'm doing as an actor. I'm not really interested in acting at all.' Kenneth craved the anonymity, but then missed the attention, such was the enigma of his conflicted persona. But however critical he was of himself, he was the rarest of breeds - a genuinely funny raconteur who never lost his public, and while television may not have been the right medium for him, it left us with some classic memories of one of the most remarkable performers of his generation.
With his quick wit, exaggerated posh accent and a comical use of elongated vowels, Kenneth Williams endeared himself to the British public as a true eccentric. But no matter how successful he became he never achieved the self-esteem he longed for. And in the end - it proved tragically self-destructive...
For years television viewers in the UK would tune in to hear Kent Walton's opening line "Greetings, grapple fans" as he introduced Saturday afternoon wrestling as part of ITV's long running World of Sport programme.
The ITV weatherman who changed how weather forecasts were presented. Come rain or come shine, there was never a dull moment with Laurie West.
‘at the end of it (Rising Damp), the man was absolutely exhausted…he would be so wound up…you felt the top of his head was going to blow off.'
There are plenty of memorable comedy characters embedded in the memories of the 1970s - Basil Fawlty, Frank Spencer, Norman Stanley Fletcher as examples - but few actors can have been as proficient in delivering small screen legends as Leonard Rossiter.
Acting was not a vocation Leonard Rossiter was born into. The son of a barber shop owner (though Rossiter said his father was more of a bookmaker than a barber), Leonard went into the insurance business after the Second World War. He had planned to take up a language scholarship studying French and German, but his father was killed in 1942 and so he felt it was more important to earn a living at home. He worked in the claims department for seven years.
Leonard became interested in amateur theatre via a young lady friend. When she was rehearsing late one night, he went inside when collecting her and was not impressed with what he saw, recalling, ‘One night I sat in the back and watched them rehearse and I must have made some acid comment, so she issues a challenge that I should try myself.' It was one of those ‘the rest is history' moments as he became consumed by the theatre and everything it had to offer.
For many years Leonard would perform in theatre and he already had an impressively lengthy CV by the time he went into two years at the Bristol Old Vic in 1960. By the time he left he had a reputation for being one to watch and rather than return home, he set up in London. Acting jobs on stage and screen would see him in regular demand, even if not so much for that breakthrough role that he still sought.
Leonard Rossiter carried a reputation of being difficult, but he was most demanding of himself. His distinctive voice and facial features made him one of the most well know personalities on television, despite seemingly being uncomfortable with interviews and his public. Don Warrington recalled years after Rossiter's passing that, ‘He didn't get the recognition that he felt he deserved…he was really a master craftsman.' Few could argue with that.
His distinctive voice and facial features made him one of the most well know personalities on television. Television Heaven remembers one of British TV's true greats...
Once described as the best-loved fat man in Britain Les Dawson won his place in the national heart not for his corpulence but for his comedy which was unique-and for many years ahead of its time.
Lord Lew Grade The annals of British television history boast a handful of giants whose impact upon the medium has conferred upon them the status of legends. However, towering above them all is a single larger than life figure. Also tagged Biography Morecambe and Wise Eric and Ernie spent over thirty years together perfecting their act, and their act was as near perfect as any comedian or double act has ever achieved. In the BBC's 1996 anniversary poll, viewers voted Morecambe and Wise as 'The Best Light Entertainment Performers of All Time'. Also tagged Biography The Benny Hill Show Arguably the most visually successful performer since the great Charlie Chaplin, Alfred Hawthorne Hill became one of the most accomplished funny men of his era, whose cheeky grin and feigned air of innocence made him one of televisions biggest stars and won him a legion of fans around the world. Also tagged Benny Hill
Television Heaven remembers the actress whose ability to seamlessly transition between comedy and drama, combined with her captivating stage presence, set her apart as a true icon
It's not often that a sitcom character achieves cult status - but it's not often that the character is played by one of the most beloved actresses on stage and screen.
According to Dora According to Dora, subtitled A Bryan's Eye View on the World, was a starring vehicle for Southport born actress/comedienne Dora Bryan who had made her showbiz debut as a child in pantomime in Manchester. Also tagged British Comedy
Harry Aitch wants status more than money. If status means he's got to have money then he'll go out and get the money. Any way that's practically legal. But he spends most of the time conning himself...
In his lifetime Nat Hiken was known as the 'King of the Half Hour' and was rewarded with eight Emmy Awards. But in later years his contribution to television has been forgotten far too easily. It is time to look back and remember one of the giants of the small screen.
In a remarkably long career, Nicholas Parsons was also one half of a hugely successful comedy double act, held down an extended run in West End theatre, and was a successful host on both radio and television.
Patricia Hayes was another of those actors who were the unsung heroes of television. The actors who were ever-present and we took to our hearts, but seldom, if ever, received star billing
British actress who successfully navigated the paths between television, cinema and theatre and became an unsung hero before she was finally recognised as a national treasure
Throughout his life Paul Eddington battled with a crippling disease. But as one of the leading stars in two of the nation's favourite comedies, it didn't stop him from cementing his place in the hearts and minds of the British public.
To many people, the name Peggy Mount will immediately conjure up an image of the ultimate battleaxe; a loud booming voice, a more than ample figure, a caricature in the best seaside postcard tradition. Yet behind this public image lay a very private person.
A stalwart of the 'Carry On' franchise and a familiar face on television, one of Britain's favourite comedy actors, Peter Butterworth, was instantly recognisable and unquestionably admired. But before becoming an actor Butterworth was a war veteran who was involved in 'The Great Escape'.
Television Heaven pays tribute to the man whose distinctive voice, dishevelled appearance, and incredible talent made him a beloved figure in the entertainment industry.
Peter Hawkins' face may not have been well known, but to several generations of television watchers, young and old, his voice was as familiar as that of one of our own family.
Peter Richardson was also keen to break into television, and after the group thrashed around several ideas, he approached Jeremy Isaacs, head of Britain's fourth TV channel that was due to open in November 1982. As a result, Isaacs commissioned six films under the banner The Comic Strip Presents..., the first of which, Five Go Mad In Dorset -a parody of Enid Blyton's children's stories, aired on C4's opening night, November 2 nd, 1982.
From his early beginnings to his illustrious career, Peter Vaughan proved time and time again that he was a force to be reckoned with
One of the most influential television producers of a generation, Philip Jones presided over a galaxy of stars. He brought Benny Hill to ITV, provided Kenny Everett his own hit series and gave The Beatles their first national television exposure.
British actor Richard Griffiths was known for his portrayals of Vernon Dursley in the Harry Potter films, Uncle Monty in Withnail and I, and Henry Crabbe in Pie in the Sky. But before he became a star, he had brutal start to life...
He was the man who began a sentence with a rather disinterested "Can I help you?", would listen to you explain your predicament and then frustrate you with an equally dispassionate "I'm awfully sorry, there's absolutely nothing I can do to help you."
Incredibly talented and vastly underrated character actress who for too long has been an unsung hero Also starring Arthur Haynes
Where British television had once been staid and predictable Baker and Berman's series helped establish a new formula for fast paced action packed adventures.
Roberta Leigh, a columnist on the Daily Herald and a writer of romantic novels and children's stories and her colleague Suzanne Warner had been asked by the Associated Rediffusion television company to find a production company to shoot a series of Leigh's creation, Twizzle. The budget for the series was very modest and Leigh and Warner knew that their only chance of getting it made cheaply was by finding a company hungry for work. Fortunately for them, AP Films was such a company. Anderson later recalled: "Here I was ready to make 'The Ten Commandments' and they were asking us to work with puppets!" Although somewhat underwhelmed at the prospect of making a children's puppet series, there was no other offer of work, so they reluctantly took on the project at a very modest budget of £450.00 per episode.
At that point television puppets were often grotesque looking creatures (even the cutest of them), jumped around very obviously on strings, often had funny voices or were completely mute (their thoughts and actions related by a story-teller) and were completely static as far as eye movements and facial expressions were concerned. It's no wonder that Anderson was unimpressed. But he decided right from the start that if he was to make a puppet series, he would make the best puppet series possible.
With Art Director Reg Hill, Anderson decided to add a number of film technique elements. Details were added to the set and during filming Anderson employed cuts and close-ups, all of which he had observed in the films he so loved but which were unheard of in a children's puppet series up to that point. Another area of improvement was how the puppets were operated. Anderson had observed how the shadows and sometimes even the hands of the puppet operators would sometimes be caught on camera. However, if the operators were placed higher above the set this would eliminate the problem. To this end, a gantry was erected twelve feet above the studio floor. For the puppeteers to see what they were doing Anderson bought a new lightweight camera that had just come onto the market. He rigged it up to form a device that became known as Video Assist, a brilliantly innovative technique that involved attaching the new camera to the movie camera in such a way that whatever the movie camera saw was relayed to monitors on the gantry, or anywhere else on the set. The method was soon adopted by the film industry worldwide.
The Adventures of Twizzle was first broadcast on 13 November 1957 at 4.30pm. The television series was so well received that A-R wanted another. Roberta Leigh, through her own newly formed company, Pelham Films Ltd., approached Anderson again to make 26 episodes of a brand-new puppet series called Torchy the Battery Boy . With an increase in the budget Anderson had the opportunity to really push the boundaries and see how much further they could go with the puppet series format. Delighted by the results, Roberta Leigh asked for 26 more. However, Anderson and Provis had not enjoyed the experience of working with Leigh and were especially put out when they discovered how much she was earning from the series compared to what she was paying them.
By the time she approached them for a third series they had already decided to produce their own puppet series. With a modest amount of money in the bank and an idea given to them by their music composer, Barry Gray, they set about making a pilot episode for a western called Four Feather Falls . However, a disagreement between Anderson and Provis over the purchase of a property eventually led to the pair parting company.
Rod Hull and Emu was an act loved equally by children and adults. But when his career turned sour, Hull came to dislike the puppet that had bought him fame and fortune, and eventually his riches would disappear altogether.
Ronnie Corbett achieved such fame as one of the Two Ronnies that his solo career was often eclipsed. But his status as a national treasure and a much-loved household name was as much down to his own talent as that of his comedy partner. Brian Slade looks back on a remarkable career.
Russell Hunter enjoyed a long and varied career in theatre, film and television but a generation of fans best remembers him for his role as Lonely, the timid and smelly small-time thief and burglar and the only 'friend' of the cynical and lonely assassin Callan
With his battered features, wicked leer and possibly the most recognisable laugh in show business, Sid James appeared to the world as a streetwise Cockney ex-heavyweight boxer. But Sid was no more an East End boy than he was a fighter.
One of the founding fathers of Independent Television, Sidney Bernstein managed, in a small amount of time, to stamp his indelible imprint on British television to create a multi-million pound empire that thrives today.
Stanley Baxter's spectacular musical-comedy specials, reminiscent of Hollywood's best extravaganzas, were so flamboyant and proved to be so costly that Baxter was sacked not from just one, but two TV channels, who simply couldn't afford to keep him.
In a country famed for its literary giants, Stanley Unwin stands out alone as a man recognised and lauded for his oratory, not because he was an exceptional speaker of the English language, but because he invented his own language, "Unwinese."
Job Titles:
- Producer of the Day That Changed My Life
When Sydney Newman came to England from his native Canada in 1958, no one could have predicted that he would become one of the most influential programme makers of the 1960's
Sylvia Anderson said that Doppelganger, as the movie was called, was originally being prepared as an hour-long drama for ATV. "We'd had a call from Joe Douglas of ATV who was looking for hour long dramas, so I pulled it out of the drawer, but I felt it was too good to give away, so I thought, 'Let's make it into a film.'" Gerry wanted David Lane to direct the movie, but the producer insisted on a 'bankable' US director. Robert Parrish was hired, but not to the liking of Anderson. It was clear from the start that Gerry Anderson and Parrish were not going to get on. Anderson became frustrated when the director deleted whole scenes without discussing the decision first. Anderson wasn't the only one who wasn't entirely happy with the director, as Sylvia Anderson remembered some years later. "I don't think Robert Parrish was a brilliant choice as director. They wanted an American so they could finance the film, but I think his direction was uninspired. We had a lot of trouble getting what we wanted from him." Once again Anderson's attempt at making a box office killing only led to disappointment and the movie failed to be a hit with the public even though it won the Hollywood Blue Ribbon Award for Best Screenplay (1969) and was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Special Effects.
By the time Doppelganger was released Gerry Anderson was already involved with a new puppet series for television. Inspired by an article he had read on how the human brain is controlled by electrical impulses, Anderson began to toy with the idea of recording people's memories and thought patterns and transferring them to another's brain. This was the basis for Joe 90. Anderson's ninth consecutive TV puppet series and the sixth in the ever expanding Supermarionation stable.
But Joe 90's appeal with the adult section of the audience which had been captured by Thunderbirds and, to a lesser extent, its follow up series Captainfollow-up Scarlet and the Mysterons suffered from the decision to make the all-important central character a child. As a result, Joe 90 is remembered as one of the Anderson stable's lesser series. Anderson certainly had less to do with this series, and a lot less resources were piled into it. Very few new models were created for Joe 90. Consequently, in some episodes, instantly recognizable faces are seen such as Captain Black, Colonel White and even Captain Scarlet himself.
Called "one of Britain's last great eccentrics", Tom Baker became the quintessential hero to millions of Doctor Who fans in over seventy countries. As he reaches the grand old age of eighty six, his association with the series that bought him adoring fans all round the world shows no sign of dissipating.
Series of unrelated one-off comedies used to showcase the talents of both writers old and new to television -as well as established and up-and-coming sitcom stars, Comedy Playhouse produced some of the best loved sitcoms on British television.
Some comedic talents are relatively simple to define. Some are much more difficult to encapsulate. Some, well, some are just pure...magic. Also tagged Biography
Primarily remembered as Mr. Lucas in the hit sitcom 'Are You Being Served?', Trevor Bannister's body of work in both television and theatre was extraordinary.
With her charming smile, distinctive voice, and undeniable talent, Una Stubbs was a beloved figure in the entertainment industry.
By the late 1940s Val Parnell had established himself as one of Britain's foremost theatre managers and impresarios. Through his association with Lew Grade he was also instrumental in the popularisation of television following the launch of ITV in 1955.
Described as a "total one-off - a magnificently, madly, inspirationally talented drama producer," Verity Lambert made the television drama genre utterly her own. Her career spanned the eras, from the first episode of Doctor Who through to Jonathan Creek and beyond, her shows were enduring and her talent unique
Vicar Geraldine Granger was loosely based on a real-life vicar named Joy Carroll, and the creation of the character came at a time when the ordination of female vicars was a very controversial and topical issue. Geraldine is a thoroughly modern vicar, a lusty woman who is not averse to cracking ribald gags, dreaming of her fantasy man, (Sean Bean) and eating copious amounts of chocolate. Her sometimes-lewd behaviour has at times caused more than a few viewer complaints, but The Vicar of Dibley very quickly became one of the BBC's all-time comedy favourites. Rather than previous tame, old-fashioned religious comedy characters, Geraldine is a complex, nicely developed character brought to life with spirit and energy by Dawn who was absolutely perfect for the role. Dawn remains committed to the series and has said that she'll continue to play Geraldine whenever Curtis is able to provide the scripts, which she demonstrated in December 2020, returning to the role after 3 years for a series of short lock-down specials.
Not every actor can rise above the fear of typecasting, particularly in comedy. But one man not only accepted the role that made his fortune, but he embraced it for the majority of his career
A much loved character actor, best remembered for his booming voice and Welsh accent, Windsor Davies - who was actually born in East London, became one of the best known faces on British television, starring in two of the top sitcoms of the 1970s and 80s.
Former Doctor Who, Jon Pertwee, as the tatty old scarecrow of Scatterbrook Farm who comes to life and gets up to all sorts of mischief. Also starring Una Stubbs