Mum's final series is "a beautiful, hilarious and heart-wrenching goodbye"
The acclaimed comedy starring Lesley Manville about a widow and her fractious family returns for a third and final season
It creeps up on you, this sitcom. You think that in its gentle look at a middle-aged widow at home with her relatives, it might not move or thrill you, that it might be the kind of show you just dip in and out of. But before you know it, it’s taken hold of your heart. The third and final series of the Bafta-nominated Mum, written by Stefan Golaszewski (Him&Her), is a beautiful, hilarious and heart-wrenching goodbye to the characters we’ve grown to feel so strongly about. Lesley Manville’s Cathy spent the first two series quietly coping with the aftermath of her husband’s death while her cantankerous parents-in-law, hapless son, downtrodden brother and their respective partners – the unintelligent but golden-souled Kelly and the pretentious social climber Pauline – live their lives around her, mostly in her living room, eating her salt and vinegar crisps and drinking her tea. Lesley Manville on a life on screen, awards season and being an older woman in Hollywood Viewers hail the return of Mum on BBC2 as an "utter joy" Why Mum’s Lisa McGrillis deserves a comedy award ASAP Rather than a cliché of a long-suffering female with no agency, Cathy is a woman coming to terms with life without her husband of many years, and feeling the demands and expectations so often placed on females to keep everyone around her afloat and be there for her family. She’s un-judgmental, forgiving and patient, but not meek or blind to her own desires. When we last saw Cathy, she’d grown closer to family friend Michael (Peter Mullan) in a will-they-won’t-they relationship which made for some of the most moving scenes in the second series. What Golaszewski writes so astutely is unglamorous, mundane, ordinary life and how, actually, that’s where the most extraordinary moments happen. The scenes that make you cry and cheer at the TV aren’t always the loud, dramatic ones but rather a throwaway line, something someone really might say. In Mum, that’s the stuff that gets you. There’s quite a few of those gut-punches in the final series, as well as it being just as funny as it’s ever been. Cathy and her family go to an extravagant country house which has been hired by her fantastically snobbish sister-in-law Pauline (the hilarious Dorothy Atkinson) after getting the money from her divorce settlement with her rich ex-husband. Pauline sashays across the gravel, ushering her rag-tag guests into the mansion half-heartedly, like an aristocrat might let the plumber in. Her husband Derek (Ross Boatman) spends most of the time trying to please her, repeatedly failing to choose the right kind of plate for Pauline’s artisanal croissant. My favourite character, Jason’s (Sam Swainsbury) girlfriend Kelly (Lisa McGrillis), is quietly struggling with a big change in her life and declares this to Cathy early on in a scene which made me burst into tears. There are some wonderful moments between Cathy’s parents-in-law Reg (Karl Johnson) and Maureen (Marlene Sidaway) who bicker all day but tend to each other lovingly in small, often un-celebrated ways that don’t usually make the glossy rom-coms. Each of the episodes is set over a day in the week the family stays at the house, focusing on Cathy and Michael’s slow-burn relationship and the challenges and guilt that Cathy feels about potential romance with someone new. So much of Mum is about what goes unsaid, the feelings we don’t express, the looks we give, the complex inner lives we lead. Golaszewski shows us staggeringly well in his writing that even the most odious, ridiculous humans have reasons to be the way they are. He shows us, with nuance, that Pauline, Kelly and the rest of the family have a past of happiness, hurt and disappointment – all before we met them – and it pulsates through their bones. So even in their most comically awful moments, we feel we know them and can laugh all the more. Mum will stay with those who have loved it so fiercely, and I hope it will acquire a new audience of people of all ages who haven’t so far known what they’re missing. Golaszewski’s series deserves to go down in TV history as one of Britain’s best sitcoms for blending such sharp humour with such heartache. I will miss Mum greatly, but as the final series shows with such poignancy – life will go on for Cathy, in all its confusion, difficulty and hope. Mum returns to BBC2 on Wednesday 15 May at 10pm, with the whole series available to watch on BBC iPlayer afterwards
How Louis Theroux moved from the stranger fringes of US society to subjects closer to home
The filmmaker's latest BBC documentary Mothers on the Edge follows mums with postpartum mental illness in London and Hampshire clinics
During his 25-year career as a journalist, Louis Theroux has made documentaries about porn stars, neo-Nazis and UFO believers. There have also been swingers, body builders, Las Vegas gambling addicts and big-game hunters. However, now the 48-year-old father of three has started to turn his attention away from the stranger fringes of American society to subjects closer to our ordinary lives, such as alcoholism, dementia and mental health. You probably don’t know someone who fervently believes in UFOs but you’ll know someone – or be someone – who has experienced depression. How to communicate like Louis Theroux Louis Theroux: I want to interview Nigel Farage for my next documentary Watch full series of Patrick Melrose, Save Me and In the Long Run for FREE on RadioTimes.com In his latest film, Mothers on the Edge, he spends time at two specialist psychiatric units in London and Hampshire that treat mothers experiencing postpartum mental illness, which ranges from severe postnatal depression to psychosis, often triggered by birth or the strains of motherhood. The mothers live in the units alongside their babies as they struggle with a range of serious issues. It’s a powerful, moving but hopeful film on a topic that most of us know little about, even though it is estimated that one in ten new mothers in the UK will suffer a mental health issue before their child’s first birthday. What’s behind the film-maker’s increased focus on mental health? “Since I was quite small I’ve been fascinated by people whose brains work differently. I’ve visited friends in psychiatric hospitals and it always struck me that they were fascinating places, where you see life in a very raw and unvarnished way. I wouldn’t have had the maturity or journalistic skills to do justice to those stories then, but it wasn’t that I wasn’t interested in them.” He also says that at the age of 23, when he first stated working on TV Nation with filmmaker Michael Moore, he fell into a mode of being “tongue-in-cheek” and “faux naive”, an exaggerated version of his real self. Over time he became “more sincere” on screen, and felt more drawn to topics that required seriousness. “It’s not as though there was a single road-to-Damascus moment where I thought, ‘I need to grow up’, but it was that over the years the production [team] and I took an approach that was a little more mature.” Theroux cites his 2012 film Extreme Love: Dementia, in which he spent time with those living with dementia and those who help care for them, as the “first time I ever did a story where no one was doing anything the least bit questionable or wrong, they were just people affected by a condition, trying to make the right choices”. It wasn’t Theroux’s idea to make a film about postpartum mental illness – it was suggested by a pregnant member of his team – but as a father of three he felt equipped to talk to the mums and their partners dealing with such tough situations. “Parenthood is this extraordinary experience full of highs and lows and moments of profound desperation and feelings of failure. I am not comparing my wife’s and my experience to profound psychiatric emergency, but I am also aware that a new baby is viewed as a cause for unalloyed celebration and happiness, but it can be much more complicated than that.” Louis Theroux documentary archive heading to BBC iPlayer There’s a scene in the film in which Katherine, a mother staying in one unit, scrolls through her Instagram feed showing Theroux lovely pictures of domestic bliss with her baby and partner, as she explains that this couldn’t be further from the daily reality. In fact, she had recently tried to take her own life. In the film, whenever he gets the chance, Theroux picks up a baby or changes a nappy. “I have a tendency to be quite passive in life and these films make me get involved. If there’s a baby in the scene, pick it up, if there’s a dog, kneel down and pet it, if there’s a nudist event, take your clothes off. I have three boys between the ages of four and 14 [Walter, Frederick and Albert] and I enjoy any opportunity to show off that I have been an active parent. I used to find babies quite frightening but now I get a lot of pleasure out of amusing a baby.” There are moments of light relief in seeing a baby gurgle at Theroux, but for most of the film he is privy to the darkest, most vulnerable moments in these mothers’ lives. Does he find it hard to leave the subjects behind when he goes home to his family? “I find I’m able to go home and live my life without feeling upset. When I get home I know those mums and babies are being well cared for in the units, but if I was making a programme about homeless new mums wandering the streets I’d feel much more burdened. I wonder about people who make long-form docs about kids on the streets – I think that would be difficult.” Theroux doesn’t talk about his subjects at the dinner table at home in north-west London, where he lives with his TV director wife Nancy Strang and their children. “There’s so much going on on the home front. The conversations at home are, ‘Who’s done their homework? Where are your shoes? Why does your room look like a tip? Are we watching Strictly tonight? Right, time for bed, guys.’ And then one of the things my wife has to deal with is that when we’re in company, the conversation revolves around my work almost to a disproportionate extent, so when I get home she’s not, like, ‘Well, what happened today on the mother and baby unit, darling?’ I don’t always trouble her with the details.” One of the ways he unwinds after a heavy day is by watching, well, intense crime documentaries. Anything more lighthearted? “Oh, yes. Strictly, MasterChef, Bake Off – I love a classic format show I can watch with the family.” Not only has Theroux’s focus shifted to more serious topics, he’s also become comfortable with the awkward reality of documentary filmmaking. “When I first got into TV I used to find it quite embarrassing, the idea of disrupting anyone, or arriving late, or unplugging their fridge because it was making a noise. I’d think, ‘Not only are we attempting to divest you of your intimate side of life but we’re also going to inconvenience you.’ That’s the trivial end of it, and then the profound end is, ‘We might put you at risk emotionally.’ And of course it is a risk for these mums to go on camera and talk. At the same time there’s such value in us opening up about things to which there should be no shame attached, like mental illness. We shouldn’t judge, because this is part of who we are.” With all the pain and suffering Theroux witnesses while making his films, does he have time for the sillier side of life? “As awful as things get, don’t let it blind you to how much is happening that’s positive. Do what you can to love your families, enjoy your friends, and enjoy life. That’s how I approach my time on the planet.” Louis Theroux: Mothers on the Edge airs Sunday 11th May at 9.00pm on BBC2
Andie MacDowell cried while filming Four Weddings and a Funeral sequel
The Groundhog Day actress discusses the emotional reunion in aid of Comic Relief
Director Mike Newell has just yelled “cut!” and Richard Curtis is in tears. They’re happy tears, and Emma Freud hugs her partner tightly, beaming. Even the most hard-hearted of humans (and Curtis the romcom king is not one of those) might be moved by today’s event. The original cast of Four Weddings and a Funeral have filled the aisles and pews of a beautiful church in Hampstead in north London to film a scene in which they’re the guests at the wedding of Charles [Hugh Grant] and Carrie’s [Andie MacDowell] daughter. The couple, who fell in love and had an on-off love affair with a happy ending, are evidently still together. They sit side by side in the front row, surrounded by their friends: John Hannah’s Matthew, Kristin Scott Thomas’s Fiona and Anna Chancellor ’s “Duckface”. Even in between takes, the atmosphere is lively and celebratory as the cast reminisce about the last time they were all together, two and a half decades ago. Newell does a lot of shushing before the cameras begin rolling again. Lily James joins Red Nose Day's Four Weddings and a Funeral sequel The best TV shows airing in 2019 Everything you need to know about Comic Relief 2019 View oEmbed on the source website As the cast pause for lunch, Andie MacDowell, in a long, floral dress, sits down to talk. Just behind us, Rowan Atkinson spoons potatoes on to his plate, dressed in priestly robes and ready to reprise his role as the hapless Father Gerald. “I loved seeing everybody again,” says MacDowell, 60, “because apart from Anna [Chancellor] and Hugh [Grant], I hadn’t seen them in years. Before we started shooting, we all had dinner together at Richard’s house and there was really good food, speeches and it was romantic, as it always is with Richard.” It’s not only Curtis who is emotional about this reunion; MacDowell feels it, too. “I’ve been teary-eyed the whole day. It’s kind of silly but when you get older and you have the opportunity to be put back into a similar situation with these people who you had such a close connection to and you had such good memories of, it’s really affecting.” Was there anyone who makes her feel particularly nostalgic? “I love John Hannah. He’s so down to earth, and seeing him brought tears to my eyes, he’s a genuinely beautiful person and when he read the WH Auden poem Funeral Blues in the original, it was quite something. There’s a little taste of that feeling in this Comic Relief version; you’ll get that same sort of emotion from him.” It never occurred to MacDowell that she’d ever play Carrie again. Since 1994, alongside her modelling work, she’s had parts in smaller TV series and independent films, with supporting roles in blockbusters like Magic Mike XXL and a critically praised turn alongside Chris O’ Dowd in Love after Love, a 2017 film about death. The complete guide to Comic Relief 2019 Twice married and now single with two daughters in their 20s (Rainey and Margaret) and a son in his 30s (Justin), MacDowell has mostly stayed out of the spotlight at her home near LA. Before she was asked to do the Comic Relief special, MacDowell had been to Britain to join Greg Davies in the BBC3 comedy Cuckoo. “I love working in England, I think British humour is the best. British actors are very well trained and I like British crews. I loved working with Greg, he has no problem with being as far out as possible.” View oEmbed on the source website Back in California, MacDowell received an email from Curtis about reprising her role as Carrie, and she responded immediately with “Count me in”. She was just as quick to say yes to Curtis’s low-budget film all those years ago, despite at the time already being a big American superstar after 1989’s Sex, Lies, and Videotape and 1993’s Groundhog Day She’d been offered “a lot of money” for a different Hollywood film in the US at the same time, but came over to work with the relatively unknown Grant and Curtis on a budget of around £3 million because she was so enamoured with the script. “There wasn’t a doubt in my mind. I watched a clip from a church scene with Rowan and I knew it was gonna be a hit. It wasn’t made for a lot of money but it felt rich and beautiful. When I met Hugh I knew it would be easy, he was adorable and charming.” Grant may have been adorable, but at the time he was far less famous than MacDowell. “People didn’t really know who he was, but after this movie he was a huge star. One of the funny things we used to talk about was his dilapidated car, whereas now he has Ferraris, so he can no longer tease me about having anything nice!” What’s her relationship with Grant like now? “I see him a few times every year. We have a huge bond through the success of the movie, because it was the beginning really for him, that was a big announcement to the world of his talent. He’s very sweet and funny, and we both feel deeply connected to Four Weddings.” Grant, who for years afterwards was typecast as a posh, charming heart-throb, recently said he’s too old for romcoms and that as a result he’s getting “more varied” parts. MacDowell says she devoured Russell T Davies’s A Very English Scandal, in which Grant brilliantly played the reptilian MP Jeremy Thorpe. “I’m sure it must feel really cathartic to not just be seen as a romantic comedy lead but to do a really powerful dramatic role. I sat down and watched the whole thing, I loved it.” While Grant’s character in Four Weddings was a lovable, sensitive Brit, MacDowell played the sardonic, colder American love interest, not as obviously charmed by Charles as the viewers were. “The hard part about Carrie is that she went off to marry someone else,” she says. “My disappointment in her not choosing him was the hard part of the role, and it was really difficult to make her warm because of her choices.” Was MacDowell harder on Carrie because we are taught that women must be likeable and approachable, while men can be lovable rogues? “Yes that’s definitely true,” says MacDowell, “and what I felt, even though it wasn’t in the script, was that she was marrying this other person [Hamish] because she was doing what she thought she should do with her life, instead of doing what she wanted to do.” As mother of the bride today on the Comic Relief set, MacDowell’s Carrie looks emotional and happy as her daughter walks down the aisle. She feels the character has changed. “I think she’s much looser, not so much high-fashion, less serious, more of a free spirit. I hope people see a softer side to Carrie now. “Richard and I talked about our belief that she became a more laid-back person after getting together with Charles. Even in that short moment today it was nice to have the opportunity to evolve the character and make her comfortable in her skin.” Lunch is over, and the actors are ushered back to church for more filming. Nicola Walker, who 25 years ago played the irritating folk singer, starts singing at the altar as MacDowell and Grant look on together. Atkinson stands up and begins Father Gerald’s stuttering sermon. Newell tells everyone to be quiet again, and Curtis looks dewy-eyed. This may not be a real wedding, but it feels like a momentous, poignant and love-filled celebration all the same. One Red Nose Day and a Wedding will air as part of the main Comic Relief 2019 show on Friday 15th March at 7pm on BBC1
Betrayal review: Tom Hiddleston excels throughout
Jamie Lloyd's production is a smart and effective take on Harold Pinter's play about love and deception
The Pinter at the Pinter season – directed by Jamie Lloyd – draws to a fitting close with its first full-length play, and a real blockbuster: Betrayal, his 1978 work that tells, from end to beginning, the story of a seven-year long affair, loosely based on his own relationship with Joan Bakewell. A blockbuster, of course, needs a heavyweight cast, and Betrayal delivers in spades: Zawe Ashton is art gallery owner Emma, Tom Hiddleston her publisher husband Robert and Charlie Cox his literary agent best friend, Jerry – who is also Emma’s lover. In contrast to these riches, Soutra Gilmour’s set is sparse, pared down; in the centre of the floor is a circle, at the back one moveable wall, and there are minimal props – two chairs, a table, lots of drinks in glasses. It’s elegantly done, though the symbolism is not exactly subtle: the wall moves to the front during the oppressive scene when Emma reveals her affair to Robert; the circle rotates as the trio have cyclical conversations, ask questions they already know the answer to, get nowhere. All three leads remain on stage throughout, sometimes in the background, sometimes physically touching, apparently watching, but silent. It’s a smart, effective way of rendering this intricate collective relationship, the way all three are complicit, both the betrayer and the betrayed. Cox probably has the least to get his teeth into, he’s a pleasure to watch: relentlessly affable, but in brief moments almost acidic, deeply weary; his sozzled sincerity when he professes his love for Emma at a party is equal parts endearing and embarrassing. Hiddleston, meanwhile, excels throughout. His urbane, literary, composed Robert experiences the emotional upheaval of his wife’s betrayal as something physical – when he meets Jerry for the first time after his discovery, he is all agitation, in contrast to his friend’s stillness; Robert gulps down wine, stabs his fork against the plate as he attempts to spear slices of ham and melon. Ashton as Emma is magnetic, and seems to combine elements of both of her lovers – when she is in control she is statue-like, inscrutable; when she is confronted she trembles, fidgets. All three draw out the warmth in the dialogue while also finding the weight in the silences, and the unspoken questions in the recital of the usual middle-class banalities: how’s the wife? And the kids? Lloyd’s stellar production is an engaging articulation of the many ways, large and small, in which we can betray not just others but ourselves, too – but there’s a tantalising suggestion of something beyond that, especially in the final scene, as all three figures, just for a moment, join hands. Hannah Shaddock Betrayal runs until 1 June at the Harold Pinter Theatre. See https://www.pinteratthepinter.com/the-plays/betrayal. Box office 0845 871 7615
Admissions review: A funny look at the politics of diversity ★★★★
Alex Kingston shines as the mother who wants what’s best for everyone until it impacts on her son from Bad Jews writer Joshua Harmon
American writer Joshua Harmon’s new play, fresh in the West End from a successful Broadway run, is a sharp piece of satire that takes aim at well-meaning liberals and what it sees as their contradictions and pieties. Sherri (Alex Kingston) is the head of admissions at Hillcrest, a highly ranked American college. During her tenure, the school’s diversity quota has trebled, to 18%, and is about to rise again. She's fastidious about the numbers and focused on making sure diversity is properly represented. But, as thorny issues of race and colour arise, the question of who actually gets to count as diverse proves far from black and white. Which is literally the problem for the hapless Roberta (Margot Leicester), who is putting together the school prospectus, without much success. What's the correct number of students of colour to include? And how does she meet Sherri's target when she herself considers one of the 18% white for the purposes of the brochure, as they're too light-skinned. It's funny watching her constantly get it wrong, but there's a serious point behind the humour. The main drama, though, concerns Sherri's son and student, Charlie (Ben Edelman) – middle name Luther so that his parents can signal their virtue for Martin Luther King. When he doesn’t get into Yale, Charlie is seriously disappointed in a way only teenager can be. He's even more vexed to find out that his best friend, Perry (who we never meet), has been accepted to the prestigious institution, despite slighter poorer grades. Perry also happens to be black. The sometimes yawning chasm between the well-intended words of the liberal left and what they’re actually willing to do is evident. Especially when their ideals come up against what's best for themselves and those close to them. Harmon sticks the knife in, gives it a good wiggle around, and provides a very funny evening of increasingly outlandish hypocrisy. Alex Kingston gives a strong performance in Daniel Aukin’s production, that shows how the duality of heart and head can pull in different directions at the same time. Sarah Hadland, as Perry's mum Ginnie, handles all the necessary sensitivities of a wife frustrated that her husband has been overlooked by prejudice while being indignant at the perception that her son was helped to overcome the same injustice. Andrew Woodall, as Sherri's husband and head teacher, Bill, along with the rest of the cast, are all energetic and fun to watch. If there is anything to mark Admissions down on, it’s that the dialogue can sometimes feel like an Oxford Union debate rather than a family rift, as verbose polemics and counter-arguments fly across the stage. A comedy about identity politics won't be for everyone, but as the play provocatively asks, to what lengths should we go in search of inclusivity for all? Nick Wells Admissions is at Trafalgar Studios until 25 May, then touring. Information: Admisssionsplay.com
The Twilight Zone review: Clever but not quite creepy enough ★★★
The stage adaptation of Rod Sterling's sci-fi TV series is entertaining but lacks thrills, says Tony Peters
Rod Serling’s TV series The Twilight Zone that ran for five seasons between 1959 and 1964 is rightly regarded as a bona fide classic. It was responsible for introducing a mix of sci-fi, fantasy and psychological thrills to a mainstream audience and has influenced a number of directors and writers since. It spawned a feature film in 1983 and various TV revivals over the years, the latest from original broadcaster CBS is in production at the moment with Jordan Peele as narrator. So, all seminal stuff then. With revivals and the film being of variable quality though, director Richard Jones and writer Anne Washburn have thankfully used the original series as the template for this stage adaptation. Costume designer Nicky Gillibrand cleverly uses a monochrome palette to ape the show’s black and white footage to stunning effect. While Stephen La Rivere and Andrew T Smith nicely use 1950s-style graphics for the animated inserts. Washburn has adapted eight stories, written by Serling, Charles Beaumont and Richard Matheson, and rather than playing them episodically has interwoven plots — including alien interlopers, mysteriously missing airmen, a child’s bedroom being the portal to a different dimension, neighbours at each other’s throats in the face of an imminent missile attack — into a single narrative. With some stories inevitably being stronger than others this makes for an unevenness in pace, meaning that the twists and surprises don’t have the same impact as if we’d seen each story unfolding in sequence. Put bluntly, it’s just not creepy enough. Just as the series had moments of humour, thankfully Jones and Washburn don’t take things too seriously and the play works best when played for laughs and as an affectionate pastiche; the excellent 13-strong cast playing multiple roles and neatly capturing the style of acting that obviously now appears a touch hammy sixty years on. And the production is enhanced by illusions created by Richard Wiseman and Will Houston, including a running gag about smoking. The Twilight Zone is going to be one for the fans, and while it’s entertaining enough, it’s difficult to see it really capturing the imagination of newcomers. Tony Peters The Twilight Zone is at the Ambassadors Theatre until 1 June
The Price review: David Suchet is superb in Arthur Miller's tragedy ★★★★
Miller's lesser-known play is a gripping tale that has stood the test of time, says Claire Webb
Following a sold-out run at the Theatre Royal Bath, Jonathan Church’s 50th-anniversary revival of one of Arthur Miller's lesser-known plays transfers to the West End with the same superb cast, including Poirot's David Suchet and Downton Abbey’s Brendan Coyle. Suchet plays elderly furniture dealer Solomon and has the audience in the palm of his hand from the moment he staggers on stage - shabby, frail and virtually unrecognisable from his sharp-suited Poirot. Brendan Coyle is his customer: Victor, a New York cop who is finally getting around to selling off his late father’s furniture. He and his wife also dust off their decades-old grudge towards his estranged brother; Victor dropped out of college to take care of his bankrupt father, while Walter stuck with his studies and became a rich surgeon. Solomon soon perks up, almost dancing around the stage as he shrewdly sizes up his taciturn client and the attic of junk. Coyle's performance is subtler and quietly powerful. Neither of them wastes a word of Miller’s deliciously funny, poignant script. No sooner has a deal been struck than the estranged brother strides in. It turns out suave, slippery Walter’s life isn’t an unmitigated success, but he still cannot understand why his brother feels aggrieved. The tight knot of family resentment unravels as we hear Walter's side of the story and realise Victor has always been the author of his own destiny. “We do what we want to do,” he admits. Adrian Lukis also puts in an arresting turn as suave, slippery Walter, while Sara Stewart crackles and snaps with frustration as Victor’s lonely wife Esther, who uses alcohol as a crutch. Set designer Simon Higlett makes the Wyndhman’s huge stage seem claustrophobic by cramming it with furniture. It even dangles over their heads, emphasising how the characters are hemmed in by the decisions of the past. “It’s a farce, a goddamn farce” shrieks Esther as the tension ratchets up, but this isn’t: The Price is an ordinary tragedy, and one that has stood the test of time. The Price is at Wyndham’s Theatre until 27 April 2019
David Mitchell: my deep belief in Father Christmas has meant I’ve struggled with other forms of religion
The Upstart Crow star tells Kasia Delgado about his childhood Christmases, the anticipation, the disappointment - and how he'll try to keep it a magical time for his own daughter
As a child my religion was Father Christmas-anity. My deep belief in Father Christmas then has meant that I’ve struggled with other forms of religion ever since. I count myself agnostic, not atheist but I was sincerely with the religion of Father Christmas-anity at the time. So many children’s stories are about magic, and there’s so much magic in children’s literature, but not much magic in real life – except for Father Christmas. Upstart Crow's David Mitchell on Shakespeare – and watching Only Connect with his wife Twitter is “potentially killing the joy of humour for millions” says Peep Show star David Mitchell David Mitchell drags Radio Times into the fray in Would I Lie To You? When I was small, I went to see the Father Christmas in the grotto at what was then the Selfridges in Oxford, but I remember my parents saying, “It’s not really Father Christmas, it’s one of his helpers.” That was a wise thing to say because I believe that the idea that you can really see Father Christmas, is dangerous to the magic. I think we should only be able to see the evidence of him in his presents, not his presence. I had very happy Christmases as a child. It wasn’t too huge a gathering – my parents, my grandparents and my great auntie Ethel in either our house in Oxford or my mum’s parents’ house in Swansea. It was incredibly exciting, and when it was over, I felt very, very sad, because at that age the next Christmas is just unrealistically far away – so far away, it might as well never be happening again. I had a very strong sense that basically the best bit of the whole present-getting Christmas thing is the anticipation. And as soon as you actually open the presents, it’s sort of over. That was part of what I loved about the advent calendar, the kind of unbearable anticipation of the next day’s picture of a bell. I would wait and open my presents slowly. My brother is eight years younger than me, so by the time he was around I was quite advanced in how I was in terms of Christmas, and he would open all of his presents in a great blur, meaning that for ages he had no presents to open while I still had several. I used to keep Easter eggs for a long time, because while I liked chocolate, I was aware that possessing the chocolate was the key bit. I would keep my Easter eggs for weeks and weeks and weeks until they went stale and had that white stuff on them and I realised I didn’t want to eat them at all any more. I was a natural miser. My childhood Christmas meals were at lunch time – one o’clock, not three o’clock in the afternoon – in the annual vain hope that we’d be finished in time for the Queen. But inevitably everything went a bit more slowly, so the Queen would be squeezed in between the main course and pudding. There was the slight uncertainness in the family about whether watching the Queen’s broadcast is an important traditional part of Christmas, but also putting the television on is seen as a slightly lamentable, non-traditional part of Christmas. I suppose if we’d really gone old-school, we could have put the Queen on the radio. Our daughter Barbara is three now and she was very keen on Christmas last year. The year before, I think she vaguely understood there was some extra sparkly lights but this is the first of the key years. She’s talking about it already. Victoria [Coren-Mitchell] and I are going to leave sherry and a mince pie for Father Christmas. I want her to have a magical time, I want her to be very excited and love it, and then I’ll find a way of handling her disappointment when it goes away. As told to Kasia Delgado David Mitchell stars in the Upstart Crow Christmas special on Christmas Day (Tuesday 25th December) at 8:35pm on BBC2
Summer and Smoke review: A devastating tale of unfulfilled longing ★★★★★
Patsy Ferran gives an astounding performance as The Almeida’s production moves to the West End
Summer and Smoke may be one of Tennessee Williams' lesser performed, under-appreciated plays but Rebecca Frecknall's heart-shattering production transforms it into one of his best. Patsy Ferran plays Alma, a minister’s daughter and singing teacher. Caring for her mother who has suffered a nervous breakdown, and stuck in a cycle of responsibility and routine, she is pious and panicky. Her undeclared love for her long-time neighbour, a young, hedonistic and angry doctor named John [Matthew Needham], is heightening her neuroses. One searing summer they come close to romance, but it doesn't quite happen. Ferran is agonisingly good as an awkward, almost puritan soul, unwilling to give in to lust but experiencing a passion that clearly terrifies her. She and John attract and repel each other over and over again. Sometimes, the missed moments of love between them are almost unbearable to watch. Tom Scutt's set is stripped-back and atmospheric. The cast plays chords on the horseshoe of pianos encasing the stage, adding to the sense of hazy, blistering, smoky heat in which Alma struggles to feed her hunger for love. A spine-tingling production which holds you in its grip, long after its over. Summer and Smoke is at the Duke of York, London Find tickets for Summer and Smoke on ATG Tickets
Romeo and Juliet at the Barbican review: A millenial take on the romantic tragedy
Set in a London of blade-carrying teenagers, this is an imperfect production with brilliant performances, says Claire Webb
The Royal Shakespeare’s production of Romeo and Juliet is horribly timely. As London grapples with another spate of fatal stabbings, this 400-year-old play about blade-carrying teenagers who spill blood and shatter lives feels all too relevant. Find tickets for Rome and Juliet Director Erica Whyman’s Verona is a contemporary UK city: a place of concrete and skinny jeans. The plays opens with a chorus of young amateur actors, who also get to strut their stuff during the Capulets' party – a night of pounding music and hedonism. Like several recent Shakespeare productions, Whyman casts women in male roles and it works. Beth Cordingly plays the Prince of Verona and gets a laugh when she stresses “men” while yelling at the feuding teens: “What, ho! you men, you beasts” Charlotte Josephine’s Mercutio is dazzling. Romeo’s loquacious mate dances around the stage in a crop top and sparkly bomber jacket. Ishia Bennison’s bawdy, northern Nurse is also hilarious, while Raphael Sowole’s sinister, gravel-voiced Tybalt might have stepped straight out of a mafia movie. As for the star-crossed lovers, Karen Fishwick’s Scottish Juliet steals the show. Shakespeare’s prose rolls effortlessly off her tongue as she segues from heartbreak to humour, commanding the Barbican’s huge stage. Bally Gill's Romeo is sweet but a bit dull. This youthful production isn’t perfect, but there are some brilliant performances. Claire Webb Find tickets for Rome and Juliet Romeo and Juliet is at London’s Barbican Theatre until 19 January 2019
A Very Very Very Dark Matter at the Bridge Theatre: Jim Broadbent is brilliant as Hans Christian Andersen ★★★★
Martin McDonagh’s dismantling of the Danish master of fairytales is entertaining and provocative, says Nick Wells
You won’t be able to say you weren’t warned. Even if you’re not familiar with Martin McDonagh’s previous hit plays and films – the deranged cat-loving paramilitaries (The Lieutenant of Inishmore); the psychopaths, indeed, all seven of them (Seven Psychopaths); or the racist, alcoholic police officers (the Oscar-winning Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri) – this time the warning's right there on the label. His new play, though, is far from the same old fair. Yes, there's the violence and near-the-knuckle black humour that sees you both laughing and sucking your teeth in equal measure. But A Very Very Very Dark Matter sees him delve into the preternatural realm of the fairy tale – dreams and ghosts included – with absorbing results. Jim Broadbent is at his inimitable best as Hans Christian Anderson, the renowned Danish author of numerous children's tales. We meet him at a public reading of The Little Mermaid, lapping up the praise of an adoring public even as he stumbles over his own story, and showing himself little more than an adulation-seeking braggart. Unbeknown to them, though, he is also a charlatan with a secret. In his attic in which the stage is dressed, he keeps an African Pygmy lady imprisoned in a wooden box hanging from the ceiling. It’s Marjory (the excellent Johnetta Eula'Mae Ackles), as he calls her because he’s too lazy to pronounce her native name, rather than Hans, who is turning out the popular books. The shadow of colonialism is never far away. McDonagh takes both the idea of the private self behind the public face, and the dark underbelly that lurks just below the surface of fairy tales to explore the indignities of racial prejudice in the 19th century. It might not always be entirely clear - part of the plot involves time-travelling Belgian soldiers and their murderous subjugation of Congo in the future that gets a bit murky - but it is very effective. Phil Daniels puts in a great turn as a philandering and profane Charles Dickens, with whom Hans goes to stay for rather longer than his friend and host can stand. You'd be forgiven for thinking you were in the Queen Vic rather than the home of one of the literary greats, as the barbs fly across the dining table. It's a stand out scene played perfectly. Although ostensibly a comedy, and a very funny one at that, A Very Very Very Dark Matter never lets go of the ill treatment and casual dehumanisation perpetrated by Europeans, especially in the arts and sciences, that’s at the heart of the story. Smart, unusual and masterly performed, it's entertaining and provocative. It might, though, be one fairy tale you won't want to share with the kids. Nick Wells Until 6 January 2019. Box Office: 0333 320 0051
Macbeth at the Barbican: Christopher Eccleston is a Macbeth with PTSD ★★★
This accessible Shakespeare production is a bit gimmicky and strange - but also fun and intriguing, says David Butcher
Do you like your Macbeths steeped in dread and doom? If so, move along. This RSC production might not be for you. Director Polly Findlay and designer Fly Davis conjure chilling effects and a fair smattering of of “direst cruelty” but the overall vibe is like one of those arch horror movies that shocks you one minute and makes you cackle with laughter the next. The witches here are three young girls dressed in neat red dresses and white tights - a sinister horror-film trope. They can appear out of nowhere, chanting or laughing, and their prophecies have the air of a playground game. It is one that turns ugly for Macbeth and Banquo, who meet the witches not so much on a blasted heath as in a corporate atrium, all sharp lines and with a watercooler in one corner. Next to the watercooler sits a janitor figure, the Porter, who observes the action throughout and chalks up a tally on a blackboard each time someone dies - i.e. quite often. It’s one visual device among many (too many, probably). After Duncan’s murder, an LED clock above the stage lights up and starts counting down from two hours towards zero, marking the time Macbeth’s destiny has allotted. It’s a bold idea - if a smidge distracting - and the read-out hits zero at the moment Macduff ends the king’s life. Clever stuff, but what does it add? A grab-bag of other effects - slithering strings, glitter showers, the words NOW and LATER projected behind the action, electrical buzzes and glitches, a second raised stage behind glass – all add to a sense of a world that is “brain-sickly” and “heat-oppressed”. In that context the performances of Christopher Eccleston as Macbeth and Niamh Cusack as his monstrous other half are suitably manic. There are times when they jerk around like puppets, wide-eyed and caught in the grip of their “black and deep desires”. Eccleston delivers the soliloquys manfully, like a bluff soldier confronted with stuff he hasn’t trained for - whether an “air-drawn dagger” or PTSD from too much wet work. But near the end, his “Tomorrow and tomorrow” speech is beautifully done, sitting on the edge of the stage in a fug of cynicism, resigned to the fact life is a “tale told by an idiot”. From there the tragic climax of the final fight is - deliberately, I imagine - sabotaged with broad sight gags: when Macduff, bent on revenge, nearly heads off stage in the wrong direction, the Porter coughs a pointed “Ahem!” and jerks a thumb in the direction of where he’ll find the tyrant. And when that big red clock hits zero and Macbeth is killed, the Porter gets a cheap laugh from re-setting his own watch. So - gimmicky? Yes. A bit scattered? Certainly. But if some productions of the play feel darkly forbidding, this one is accessible. It is even - and how often can you say this about Macbeth? - fun. David Butcher Macbeth is at the Barbican until 18th January 2019 - visit the theatre’s website here.
Company at the Gielguld: A flawless revival of Stephen Sondheim's musical ★★★★★
This updated version of Stephen Sondheim's musical is Sex and the City with a touch of Bridget Jones, raised to new heights by Broadway legend Patti LuPone, says Simon O'Hagan
The bar stool is her throne, the cocktail glass her sceptre, and the regality is pitched somewhere between Mae West and Dorothy Parker. It’s the moment, deep into the second half of this flawless revival of Stephen Sondheim’s great 1970 work, when Patti LuPone raises it to a whole other level — with a performance of The Ladies Who Lunch that sends the audience into such sustained raptures that you wonder whether the action will ever get going again. If that was the stand-out moment of the evening, there were so many others in a production of Sondheim’s study of love’s paradoxes that brimmed with ideas and intelligence as much as it did with energy and flair, both visual and musical. Company has been performed countless times the world over, but this production is a first in a very big way, with the leading role of Bobbie — a New York singleton whose friends are badgering her into getting married — played as a woman not a man. It works so beautifully — with Rosalie Craig’s Bobbie conveying such veracity and pathos — that you wonder how it has never been presented as a woman’s story before. And there’s more: one of the five couples – Paul and Amy in the original — is now Paul and Jamie, and that works beautifully too, with Jonathan Bailey outstanding as the neurotic Jamie. Maybe nobody asked Sondheim if he’d allow any of this, but director Marianne Elliott did, and the result is a triumph to rank with War Horse and The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, both of them huge hits of Elliott’s on the London stage in recent years. In Company, we’re in Sex and the City country with a touch of Bridget Jones, but as with both of those creations, Sondheim and writer George Furth are as interested in the married state as they are in the single one. The action is centred around Bobbie’s 35th birthday, the story updated to the era of the smartphone. We see Bobbie forlornly swiping left. “How many times do you get to be 35,” she wonders. “11?” We begin with her home alone picking up birthday messages on her phone — all from friends in couples, inadvertently or otherwise emphasising her solitariness. Bobbie’s dress — a vivid red, in blazing contrast to the muted colours all around her — performs the same function. But are the couples any happier? In a series of vignettes, and across some wonderful numbers gloriously sung, we get to know everyone and their joys and disappointments, nobody’s experience conveyed with more acerbic wit than LuPone’s Joanne, married for the third time and looking back on an earlier husband with the observation that “he was so hard to remember — even when you were with him”. The lovely turn from Mel Giedroyc as the wholesomely bourgeois Sarah — married to the genial, overweight, delusional Harry (Gavin Spokes) — is one of many, and while this is not a production on the grand scale of Sondheim’s Follies in the National Theatre’s brilliant 2017 revival, it doesn’t need to be. Company is a chamber work, perfectly served by Bunny Christie’s design in which scenes are played out in rectangular compartments that are perhaps meant to hint at life’s limitations. But of the pleasures of this production, there really are no limits. Simon O'Hagan Booking at the Gielgud Theatre until 30th March 2o19
The Apprentice's Claude Littner: 'Love Island is a terrible programme – and I love it'
Lord Alan Sugar's right-hand man reveals his ideal Apprentice candidate – and the business he wishes he'd started
Lord Alan Sugar's right-hand man Claude Littner tells Radio Times about his TV loves and hates – and whether he's really as mean as he appears to be on The Apprentice... What do you watch on TV? Serious business programmes? I enjoyed Love Island. It’s such a terrible programme and the people are so absurd that it’s compelling viewing. When I wanted to watch it, my wife went off to watch Poldark. I also watch Channel 4 News, Newsnight, Question Time. And Judge Judy. The Apprentice 2018: meet the candidates Stay up to date with the RadioTimes.com newsletter My wife doesn’t like that, either, so I find myself watching a lot by myself! What I really love is University Challenge, because I’m always amazed by how they can answer the questions in a nanosecond. It’s sensational. View oEmbed on the source website What can you see from your sofa? We watch TV in our very cosy and comfortable den. My wife sits on one couch and I sit on one on the other side of the room, so I spend a lot of time looking at her, watching TV and looking at my iPad. I like to multitask! I imagine you have a choice of rooms to watch TV in… We have another area with a huge couch for 15 people – it has a very nice carpet and is very nicely done up. I refuse to let my grandchildren in there: they’re aged eight, seven and five, and then there are 13-month-old twins. Blimey. You’re a stern man on The Apprentice. Are you softer with your grandchildren? I demand the same respect from them that I do from the candidates. They’ve got to call me sir and I question them mercilessly. No, we have a lot of fun, we play football, I tease them a lot. What do you look for in an entrepreneur on The Apprentice? You’ve got to find out who is faking it and who is the real deal. With an interview like this, you might come away thinking, “He’s such a super bloke, that Claude,” but if you saw me for 12 weeks in a row you might form a different opinion. As The Apprentice unfolds, you get an understanding of the candidates and whether they have the physical and mental stamina and will to win. Which traits turn you off? I don’t particularly like someone who is overly confident, or someone who is a bit jaded. Those things concern me – you need strength of character, because I can’t emphasise how many new start-ups fail. Then again, you don’t want someone so passionate that it overrides all common sense. Very often you get people on The Apprentice and in life who look as though they’ve got all the right qualities, but their character is such that they could easily lose that ambition when things start going wrong. Have you always thought like a businessman, even as a child? Absolutely. My greatest achievement is that I used to buy gobstobbers for a ha’penny and sell them to my school friends for a penny. I used to come home with a pocket full of pennies in my handkerchief. I also had a stamp club, and we sold books of stamps to our friends. I had lots of schemes going! I was always saving my pocket money and trying to invest it to see where I could get the best interest. I knew I’d do something in the business world. Is there a business you wish you’d started? Microsoft? Facebook might have been a good one for me to have going on. Amazon. I’d like to have done that one, probably. The Apprentice will air weekly on Wednesdays at 9pm on BBC1 from 3rd October
Michelle Keegan and Luke Pasqualino reveal how they survived the gruelling Our Girl shoot
A 43-degree jungle, seven months away from home and two continents: the filming for BBC1's army drama wasn't made easy for the cast
Michelle Keegan (Georgie Lane) Could you survive in the military? I’m not very good physically… I’ve not got good stamina and I can’t really keep up with the boys, although on screen it probably looks like I can because they’re able to edit it all. It’s very tough especially in the climate we’re working in. In the jungle in Malaysia where we’ve been filming the new series, it got to 43 degrees. It’s very hot and it takes a while for me to acclimatise. So acting is easier? Yes! I also couldn’t stand the early mornings. Although I’m up early at the minute, we’ve had two military advisers with us since day one and before they start working at six in the morning they’re in the gym at half four. They train every single day without fail. I couldn’t do that. What I do like is rolling around getting dirty while filming – I always tell them to put more dirt on my face, it’s really liberating. View oEmbed on the source website How did you cope with filming away from home? It’s been really hard being away for so long. I’ve been away for seven and a half months – half of it in South Africa, half in Malaysia. It’s a long time. Mark [husband Mark Wright, former The Only Way Is Essex star] has been out and my best friend and brother came out to visit me. My mum is also going to come out at some point. But it’s still so hard being away from family and friends. I only had a two-week gap between finishing in South Africa and starting in Malaysia, which just wasn’t enough time to cram everyone in. Have you filmed for long periods abroad before? Not really – we filmed some of the last series in Manchester, so all in all I was away for three months, which at the time seemed quite long but is nothing in comparison. And Tina and Bobby [the ITV drama in which Keegan played Tina Moore] was all filmed in Manchester, too. What do you miss about home? Ordering a Chinese takeaway, in my pyjamas, while watching a film. I also miss taking my dogs for a walk. My mum has my dogs so she takes them out and sends me pictures. I also can’t wait to go home and have my nails and hair done! It’ll be the biggest treat for me. I haven’t painted my nails for months because in the Army they have to have really short nails for hygiene reasons. Every day they put grease in my hair to make it look sweaty and I have it up in a French plait. I love not wearing make-up here but after a while it’s nice to have a pamper sesh. Did you take any home comforts away with you? I took mayonnaise from home with me because they don’t have my favourite in Malaysia! And I brought my pink fluffy slippers. Luke Pasqualino (Elvis Harte) Could you survive in the SAS? I’ve seen how SAS selection is done, so no! It’s one of the hardest things people will ever go through in their lives. But in the general military, I think I’d thrive. It’s a bit like acting at times – I’ve been throwing myself around in the dirt since before I could walk. So acting as an SAS commander is easier? The physical aspect was still really difficult! I’m not a massive gym-goer and it all took its toll after a few days, but I put my blood, sweat and tears into it. The costumes are incredibly uncomfortable and running around in the heat in them was challenging – I got very dehydrated and jumped at the rare chances to take everything off. How did you cope with filming away from home? I was out in South Africa for three months and it was a bit like being stationed abroad in the military, where they spend all day in each other’s company, working, training, sleeping in the same room. Because we were all so far away together we spent a lot of our time with each other, so after filming finished we often went out to dinner. Although I sometimes needed a bit of time alone after a long day, so if we finished early I’d go for a hike. Have you filmed for long periods abroad before? For The Musketeers [Pasqualino played D’Artagnan in the BBC1 series] I was away for three and a half months, but that was in Prague, which is a lot closer to home. Our Girl felt like longer because it’s so far away. What did you miss most while you were away? My bed. I’m not saying the bed in my hotel wasn’t lovely but there’s something about your own bed… I’d also just bought a new mattress four days before I flew out to South Africa – a really good one – and I didn’t get the chance to enjoy it to the max, so I was dreaming about getting back and enjoying that. This article was originally published in October 2017 View oEmbed on the source website
What on earth is wrong with the detectives in Thirteen?
FINALE SPOILERS! The BBC abduction drama is seriously good — but the detectives are staggeringly bad, says Kasia Delgado
You know those days when you feel you've messed up? You were late for a meeting, you spilled tea over someone? Or you elbowed a child on the train by mistake? Those moments are guilt-inducing enough, filling you with doubt about whether you're worthy of this world. Meet the cast of Thirteen What’s the opening credits theme song in Thirteen? Why you should be watching Thirteen So imagine how the detectives on Thirteen must feel every single day of their working lives. I've really enjoyed the BBC3 drama, but what on earth is wrong with the police on that show? They are so staggeringly bad at their jobs that I honestly think my pet tortoise could do a better job of solving the case. Let's take the finale, in which Ivy Moxam (Jodie Comer) was sent to meet her kidnapper Mark White (Peter McDonald) in the hope that he would release his latest abductee Phoebe. There are 40 "eyes" on Ivy, yet Mark immediately persuades her to take out her ear piece and go round the back of the shopping centre where he abducts her in a van and zooms off. Now, I know zero things about detective work but isn't it obvious that she was probably going to take her ear piece out? She was kept in a cellar for 13 years by this man so she's probably going to instinctively listen to his instructions. He must have immense power over her. And couldn't they have given her a GPS tracker or in some way ensured that she wouldn't be abducted again? The mind boggles. View oEmbed on the source website But more generally, DI Elliot Carne (Richard Rankin) and DS Lisa Merchant (Valene Kane) need an intensive refresher course in How To Treat People Who Have Been Kept In A Cellar For Most Of Their Life. One minute they're being kind and calm, the next they're calling her a liar and a murderer without for one second thinking that, oh I don't know, maybe she's SERIOUSLY PSYCHOLOGICALLY DAMAGED FROM THE CELLAR? Of course, we don't want our TV detectives too professional because that would be boring. We need some jeopardy, some human error, some lack of judgment, too many feelings. If they solved the case straight away, it wouldn't be much of a mystery. Happy Valley's Catherine Cawood does plenty of things she shouldn't despite how brilliant a detective she is. In fact, that's what makes her so good. She goes beyond the bureaucratic line and does whatever it takes. The difference is that in Thirteen, Ivy and her family are in truly incompetent hands for almost the entire time. When Elliot and Lisa interview her they just blast her with questions without letting her even answer, before asking her another. Everyone knows that if you wait for someone to answer, if you give them a bit of time, they may well say something that's on their mind. Ivy needs to be handled carefully because of that cellar thing. But Elliot and Lisa just keep ploughing on, treating her like a criminal. Hey guys, remember how she was in a cellar for 13 years? Lisa is completely insensitive while Elliot is way too sensitive, swerving from emotion to emotion like a drunk sentimental uncle on Christmas day. They have absolutely no idea how to interact with her in a normal, helpful, supportive way. Marnie Dickens' Thirteen is an enthralling drama which has kept me and its fans hooked for five episodes. I've loved Rankin and Kane's performances, and Comer's has been brilliantly haunting. I also think Lisa and Elliot actually make a great couple. But I really, really think they should take a holiday together and seriously reassess their career goals. And then promptly stop being detectives. Last updated on 28 September 2017
King of the broadcasting jungle: Sir David Attenborough reveals how TV has changed over 60 years
The legendary broadcaster recalls the "unbelievable" early years of BBC TV – and how the broadcaster should prepare for the future
The doorbell rings, and seconds later Sir David Attenborough bounds out of his front door in his trademark light-blue, safari-style, short-sleeved shirt and stone-coloured chinos. I’ve come to Attenborough’s home – the large but unflashy house in Richmond, south-west London, where he’s lived for 60 years – to whisk him to the Radio Times photoshoot for this 95th-birthday issue. I’d imagined that I might have to wait while he took his time, but the 92-year-old strides down the path like a man two decades younger. Just back from a trip to Africa for a new BBC series, he shows no sign of travel weariness. I stand aside for him to get into the taxi – after all, he is Sir David Attenborough – but he insists I get in first. Later, when we get out to walk from the car to the studio, he opens doors for me, while I – 63 years younger – stumble on a small pothole. I feel he’s going to tell me to take care. Louis Theroux meets David Attenborough to talk global warming, animal kinship and mortality David Attenborough: the BBC ‘doesn’t do enough’ for culture and the arts David Attenborough: we must act now to protect our oceans from the deadly threat of plastic Very few people working in broadcasting today can claim to be able to recall six decades of Radio Times’s existence, let alone have been central to so much of the magazine’s coverage. His career is unique in UK broadcasting – behind the scenes as a producer, the controller of BBC2 and the man tasked with introducing colour TV to the nation; and in front of the camera, inspiring and educating us in hit series after hit series from Zoo Quest to Blue Planet II. Indeed, Attenborough has been such a fixture of British broadcasting that he and his shows have been on the cover of Radio Times more than anyone else except the Queen. How apt, then, that he’s happy to grace the cover as the magazine turns 95. You might expect that inviting Attenborough to a photoshoot for the cover would involve calls to agents, dozens of emails and a very long wait for a response. Yet he has neither an agent nor an email address, and he responds to my letter three days after I’ve posted it to his home. He rings my mobile and says, “It’s David here, David Attenborough. I’d be delighted.” In the back of the car it becomes clear that Attenborough doesn’t do small talk – he’s uninterested in chitchat about the heatwave, and goes quiet about his recent Africa trip when I tell him that I haven’t even been to that continent. He’s kind, but he doesn’t want to chat for the sake of it. Instead, I ask about the bittersweet reality of living into your 90s – of being one of the last ones standing. Instantly much warmer, he talks about losing most of his friends – “I have only two or so close friends left” – and notes how many funerals he goes to now. He happily adds that he feels lucky not only to be in good health, but also to be working at his age. There’s a sense of surprise at his own longevity, both on Earth and in television. View oEmbed on the source website At the photoshoot he says no to face powder but says he’ll tidy his hair. Before the make-up artist can hand him a brush, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his own comb. “I love that. A real gentleman always carries a comb,” she says. “Oh, I know,” he replies with a wry smile, adjusting his parting. He poses for photographs without a fuss and is visibly touched when the photographer thanks him for commissioning The Old Grey Whistle Test in the 1970s, as it was his favourite programme as a child. When we sit down to talk, it’s clear that although Attenborough has travelled all over the world and seen some of the rarest and most magnificent animals on the planet, it’s his time as a young BBC producer that gave him some of the biggest thrills of his life. It’s television itself, as much as the natural world, that feeds his imagination. “I didn’t get a television set until I joined the BBC in 1952, so I’d already been married for a couple of years,” he says, recalling the days when owning a television was rare. The BBC supplied sets to its producers, and lucky Attenborough, working in the factual broadcasting department (then called the Talks Department), was given one. “All the programmes came from two studios in Alexandra Palace in north London. We produced (I say ‘we’ – I was a junior squirt) – but the big guys, they produced opera, Shakespeare, just unbelievable things. It was very exciting, because it was all live and you felt at one with viewers. The BBC had a bus that drove through north London dropping staff off, because once we had finished producing it was late at night and there wasn’t transport. And when you travelled along in the bus and you saw that sort of electronic glow on the windows of people’s houses, you knew that they’d probably been watching your programme. “It was like drinking champagne: you didn’t want to go home after you’d done a production, the adrenaline rush was so huge. The producer I worked with at the start had a faults book and he would make notes after each production on the mistakes he had made deploying the cameras, how things had been done. It was all very experimental. Really extraordinary things, we did. We were encouraged to try new things all the time.” How did it feel to be involved in creating some of the first TV programmes? “Oh! There were only 20 people, 30 people who actually directly produced programmes in the whole of western Europe, and they were all in Alexandra Palace. And I was one of them. We used to sit and argue in the canteen about how we would use new technology, and simple things like what to call the person who’s in the programme and talking about things. I mean, do we say ‘introduced by’? No, he isn’t exactly introducing. ‘Described by’? And then someone said, ‘How about presented by?’ These days, the presenter is now a category in an employment agency, but you didn’t know even how to describe the job in those days.” Television has changed beyond recognition, with hundreds of ways to watch thousands of programmes every minute of the day and night. Does Attenborough lament the way new generations of children watch catch-up TV and online channels, rather than sitting down on the sofa for a BBC show? “In 1952, you made an appointment with television and shaped your evening around that. You’d paid your licence money, and so you felt that you’d better watch it all – you had, as it were, bought it. "But the way that television is used now is transforming. The mere fact you’ve got these various devices for catch-up television is comforting in a way, because you can dial up a programme that you heard someone talking about. I read the reviews in the press and think, ‘Why haven’t I watched that?’ And so you catch up. "In a way, I’m surprised that television hasn’t changed more. There’s quite a lot that people hang on to. Not only people that are antique like me, but also other people make an appointment with the news.” Attenborough says he reads several newspapers, but the BBC news is his main source of information about world events. Not a drama or quiz show fan, Attenborough watches documentaries. He thought BBC2’s documentary Travels in Trumpland with Ed Balls was “remarkable”. “I thought that was a very bright idea, and I thought he did very well. Maintaining integrity, and at the same time not being objectionable to his hosts.” He cites slow TV, such as BBC4’s two-hour sleigh ride through Norway, as among his favourite types of programme. “The BBC is commendably experimental with things like that. The long look, as it were.” Most programmes he watches are made by old friends of his. “You want to see what they’re doing from a professional point of view, and you think, ‘How did he get that shot? I was planning to use that in the next series!’ I’m in the studios every week or so, so I meet my pals and say, ‘How did you get that shot?’” View oEmbed on the source website Since Attenborough’s life has revolved around the BBC for almost 70 years, I ask whether he feels we should worry that the corporation comes under fire so regularly. From criticisms of impartiality to resentment of the licence fee, and the pay gap revelations, the BBC is never out of the papers. “Yes. There are newspapers where you open the pages and you know that there’s been an editorial command: ‘I want a story knocking the BBC every day, please. Find it, knock it.’ Sections of the press have always seen the BBC as the enemy and competitor, because it takes away from their advertising, and it takes away from their news. But at the moment there are things that the BBC does that nothing else does. There is such a thing as public service, no matter what you think. There are things that only public service can do and will do, and the BBC does them, and the moment it stops doing them you might as well write it off, because there’s no point to it.” What sorts of things can only the BBC do? “Trying new programmes, new attitudes, new writers, new voices, putting in little-heard voices, tackling new subjects, finding new ways of doing things at more times when people can see them. I mean, all sorts. The very political discussions on the BBC news, for example – you would think the whole of television would do it, but they don’t. Where are they on the other networks?” But the BBC isn’t perfect – considering it’s a public service broadcaster, what is lacking in its schedules? “The cultural, the arts programmes,” says Attenborough. “I don’t think the BBC does enough. It’s not enough simply to say, ‘Well, it doesn’t get a big enough audience.’ If you’re a public service broadcaster, what you should be saying is, ‘We will show the broad spectrum of human interest.’ People of all kinds should be catered for. You can measure success not necessarily by the maximum size of the audience, but by the maximum width of the spectrum, and see whether there aren’t any gaps in it and how you’re filling them. "There are lots of gaps in the BBC’s coverage now, in my view, and that’s because they are harried and badgered by all sorts of people. But if the BBC was to disappear from our homes one morning, surely we’d miss it desperately? You’ve only got to go to America to know that.” As technology has advanced with ferocious speed, there’s been a monumental shift in the way television is made. I wonder whether Attenborough sees TV as part of humanity’s future. Is it here to stay? “People are going to be using the techniques with much more freedom. In the 1950s, there was only a handful of people who knew how to produce television. There was a sort of bogus magic to it – we were the priests who were explaining that we knew how to handle these things. People would come to the studio absolutely terrified, their tongues would cling to the roofs of their mouths, they wouldn’t know what to say. "But now the technology is so versatile, so small, anybody can make a natural history programme. It’s just a matter of time. When people say, ‘How do I become a natural history filmmaker?’ – the answer is, ‘Do it! It couldn’t be easier.’ Make a programme about a mouse if you’ve got one coming into your house, make one about a pigeon, make it about anything. And you’ll discover how to do it, how to put it together, how to tell a story." He makes it sound easy, but I suspect a YouTube video of a mouse in my kitchen has some way to go before it entrances the nation like the racer snakes did in Planet Earth II. He may encourage new film-makers and marvel at the shots his documentary producer friends achieve, yet I can’t imagine anyone, except perhaps the Queen, having the effect on the general public that he has. As Attenborough leaves the studio, I ask the bunch of builders on their tea break outside to make room as we walk past. There’s a faint grumbling, a half-hearted shuffle to the right. But when they see who they’re making way for, they fall silent, their eyes widen and they straighten up. One of them stubs out his cigarette. I almost expect them to salute. The respect is palpable. This is the king of the broadcasting jungle walking by, having reigned over the land of television for nearly seven decades. And from the way Sir David paces back to his front door, I suspect he’ll be surveying his kingdom with pride. Radio Times’ 95th Birthday issue, is on sale now
Here's a handy guide to Alan, Celia, Gillian and Caroline...
If you've not seen the previous series of Last Tango in Halifax or you've got a hazy memory, here's a guide to what's happened so far, who plays who and where you've seen the actors before. Celia (Anne Reid) The Last Tango story begins with Celia, a 70-something widow, who gets in touch with childhood sweetheart Alan after she spots him on Facebook. They meet up and get on so well that it's like they've never been apart. By episode two they're engaged, much to the shock and confusion of their children. The duo are based on writer Sally Wainwright's own mother's experience of a meeting her teenage boyfriend 60 years later on Friends Reunited. Wait, so there is hope I could end up marrying Sam, who I fancied in year nine? Interrrrresting.... Anyway, Celia's daughter Caroline is going out with a woman named Kate in series two and unlike Alan, Celia doesn't take the same-sex thing well at all. In fact, she refuses to accept it and there are torrid, throw-plates-at-the-wall, rows until Celia realises she's making her daughter miserable with her homophobia. As the Christmas special begins, Celia is happily married to Alan and is caught up in the daily chaos of her family. (Some) lessons have been learnt although her sharp tongue hasn't lost its edge. Played by: Anne Reid, who you'll know as Valerie in Coronation Street and Jean in dinnerladies. Alan (Derek Jacobi) Alan knows all about life's peaks and troughs. He gets engaged to Celia and then at the end of series one he has a heart attack. It's all ok though because he recovers and marries Celia as planned. Alan's daughter Gillian has a complex time in the show and he's very involved - but more about that later. The crucial thing to know about Alan is that he discovers he has a son called Gary from an affair he had in the 1980s while married to his first wife, his daughter Gillian's mum. Alan doesn't tell Celia about Gary because he's worried she'll judge him for having had an affair - and especially because Celia's own husband was adulterous and she suffered badly. When he does tell her, she's devastated and genuinely questions whether he's the man she thought he was. By the time series four begins, they're reunited and the pair are off to New Zealand for a belated honeymoon - courtesy of his new, millionaire son Gary who Celia has come to terms with. And not just because he's bought them a fancy holiday. Played by: Derek Jacobi, who's best know for his hugely successful theatre career. On TV he stars in Vicious with Ian McKellen and you'll have seen him in Gosford Park and The King's Speech. Caroline (Sarah Lancashire) Celia's daughter Caroline has had quite a time of it. In series one she's married to Tony (he's pretty awful) who is cheating on her while she is cheating on him with a woman named Kate. Also it's important to know that when Caroline meets Alan's daughter Gillian for the first time, they clash massively. Gillian thinks Caroline is a snob, Caroline thinks Gillian is insufferably cynical and moody. But slowly they start to get on and confide in each other. In series two, Kate decides she wants a baby and Caroline eventually agrees, even though she's already got two teenage sons William and Lawrence. A guy called Greg becomes the sperm donor and Kate is about to have the baby. But in a shockingly sad episode - one of those where you have to hide behind a cushion because it's so painful - Kate dies in a car crash and her baby is delivered safely. Suddenly Caroline is a widow and a new mother in the space of a few hours. To make her life even more baffling, ex-husband and cheater John suggests they give their relationship another go. She declines. And as series three ends, Caroline is struggling with grief as she talks to Kate's 'ghost' but is absolutely in love with baby Flora, who she is now bringing up alone. Played by: Sarah Lancashire, who you'll know as Catherine in Happy Valley, Miss Audrey in The Paradise, Raquel in Coronation Street. Gillian (Nicola Walker) Now, Gillian makes Caroline look like she's had a quiet life. We first meet Gillian, Alan's daughter, when she's recently been widowed by her husband Eddie. In series one, confused about life, Gillian has a one night stand with Caroline's ex-husband John, who is still involved in the family. It's all very strange- but that's the power of a few too many drinks. John is convinced he's infatuated with Gillian but this fizzles out. Meanwhile Gillian is left looking after her grand-daughter after her teenage son Raff and his teenage girlfriend Ellie fail to care for their baby properly. And to make matters more complex, she's having a fling with Robbie, her late husband's brother. In series three, after a turbulent romance, Robbie tells Gillian he wants to marry her but she freaks out and sleeps with John instead. Yep that John, her half-sister's ex-husband. Oh Gillian. Cheating is definitely a theme in this show... Despite having doubts and nearly bolting, Gillian does gets down that aisle. So when we see the couple in the Last Tango Christmas special, they're married and living together on the farm. BUT it's crucial to know this: It's revealed in an earlier series that Eddie's death wasn't entirely an accident and that Gillian killed him after she couldn't stand him abusing her anymore. It's a pitch-black secret that has made her self-destructive, guilt-ridden and confused. And most importantly, that's partly why she felt she shouldn't marry Robbie. She's very much still dealing with the horror of what she did to Eddie in desperation. Played by: Nicola Walker, who you'll know as Cassie in Unforgotten, Jackie in River, Sharon in Babylon, Helen in Scott & Bailey. Other crucial characters... John (Tony Gardner) Caroline's unlikeable, insecure and self-obsessed ex husband who fell for Gillian - or thought he did. He's now back with his former lover, the suitably terrible Judith. Played by: Tony Gardner who 90s kids or parents of 90s kids will know as Brian from My Parents are Aliens. But also Dan Miller in The Thick of It, Professor Tony Shales from Fresh Meat. Judith (Ronni Ancona) John's former lover, now his partner - children's novelist and top-class snob. Played by: Ronni Ancona who you'll know from The Big Impression alongside Alistair McGowan - she played Nigella and Posh Spice particularly well... Robbie (Dean Andrews) Gillian's husband and former brother-in-law. He's just retired and is driving Gillian up the wall. Played by: Dean Andrews who you'll know as Ray in Life on Mars. Greg (Marcus Garvey) 2 Greg was the sperm donor to the late Kate's baby Flora. Caroline is now a single parent to Flora but Greg helps out despite being a bit of a disorganised mess. Played by: Marcus Garvey who you'll know as Pete from Broadchurch and Keith in You, Me & Them. Raff (Josh Bolt) Gillian's son became a dad as a teenager and has a baby called Emily Jane with his girlfriend Ellie. The pair struggled with parenthood at first but they seem to have it mostly under control. Played by: Josh Bolt who played the lead in one-off drama Just Henry alongside Sheridan Smith. Ellie (Katherine Rose Morley) Raff's girlfriend Played by: Katherine Rose Morley who you'll know as Emma Moxam from recent BBC3 drama Thirteen. View oEmbed on the source website
Heathers review: This revenge-fantasy musical simmers with wicked talent ★★★
The musical of the cult teen 1989 film is a joyful satire- but it could be darker
Bullying, suicide, body-shaming, mass school shooting – Heathers was the edgy, deliciously dark teen film still beloved for how spot-on it was about the social nightmare of teenage life. Winona Ryder played Veronica, who gets in with a popular, sinister clique at her school. Soon she and her new psychopathic boyfriend (Christian Slater) are exacting revenge on the clique not by calling them mean names but by, well, murdering them. This musical at the Theatre Royal Haymarket, is daring, bold and funny, with Carrie Hope Fletcher’s Veronica full of life-affirming energy – and a spine-tinglingly powerful voice. Her Baudelaire-quoting troubled boyfriend is played by Jamie Muscato who sings so beautifully that you can see why Veronica sticks with him even after he starts killing her peers. The songs are witty - ‘Dead Girl Walking’, ‘I am damaged’, ‘my dead gay son’ – and the ballads are searing and sweet, but the musical isn’t memorable. You won’t find yourself humming the songs after you leave. The stand-out star of the entire night is Jodie Steele, who plays the terrifying Heather, the ruler of the clique. She is hilariously cruel, cocking her hip and staring down anyone not worthy of being within an inch of her. The world is her catwalk. Heathers is huge fun, and the audience was whooping, clapping and roaring with laughter throughout. I just wish it had just been a bit darker, a bit edgier and a little more disconcerting – it toyed with shocking us, but didn’t quite get there. But even if it lacked a bit of the bite in the original film, Heathers is worth seeing for its slickness, creativity and stunning talent. Heathers is on at Theatre Royal Haymarket until 24 November
Pericles at The National Theatre: Shakespeare's tragedy transformed into a rousing musical
Indian percussion, gospel choirs and acrobatics make for a surprising, moving reworking of the Bard's play, says Claire Webb
The National Theatre has transformed one of Shakespeare’s least popular tragedies into an uplifting musical with a Disneyesque soundtrack, a dash of Baz Luhrmann-style pizzazz and a company of over 200 amateurs. In Chris Bush’s family-friendly new version, Pericles is a proud prince who loses everything. Banished from his kingdom, he discovers true love in a foreign land, only to lose his beloved wife at sea. The widowed king finally discovers the true meaning of home with the help of his long-lost daughter, and the journey at the heart of the play becomes a parable for diversity and inclusivity. Pericles is the first production to come out of the National Theatre’s Public Acts initiative, a partnership with eight community groups and an East London theatre – the Queen’s Theatre Hornchurch. It’s the culmination of a year of workshops and sees 120 Londoners of different ages and backgrounds making their acting debut on the venerable Olivier Stage. There are also brilliant cameos from amateur performance groups, including acrobatics from Newham’s Ascension Eagles Cheerleaders, percussion from Indian arts centre The Bhavan, gospel singers from Faith Works Choir, and a heartrending lamentation from the London Bulgarian Choir when Pericles is widowed. Director Emily Lim has stage-managed her vast cast into a slick production that never flags for a second. There’s are special effects, colourful costumes, a live band that jumps effortlessly between two dozen musical genres. Lim knows how to make the audience coo: the youngest cast members are given cute cameos. The leads are professional and impeccable, although it’s often the amateurs who got the biggest laughs. As Pericles, Ashley Zhangazha segues seamlessly from swaggering young prince to wizened king, and from iambic pentameter to ballad. Jim Fortune’s sugary songs are perhaps more suited to a Disney movie, but the singing was superb – Naana Agyei-Ampadu deserves a special shout out as Pericles’ soulful beloved, Thaisa. In the final act, the plot takes a surprisingly seedy turn when Pericles’ daughter is sold by pirates to a brothel. Lim’s Mytilene is a Baz Luhrmann-worthy cabaret club dripping with sequins, with a dazzling turn by Kevin Harvey as a purring drag queen. The final song is about how “home is not the country of your birth”, and members of the company take it in turns to sing a line in their maternal language, before the rousing finale. I wasn’t the only audience member wiping away a tear during the standing ovation. Claire Webb Pericles was at the National’s Olivier Theatre from 26 to 28 August. Public Act’s next project will be at the Queen’s Theatre Hornchurch in August 2019.
Exit the King review: Rhys Ifans is irresistible as Ionesco’s mad monarch
This new version of Eugene Ionesco's absurdist work "is a very funny play about characters trapped in a slow-motion car-crash", says David Butcher
‘I could feel that there was something incredibly lively and painful and funny in all this,’ director Patrick Marber has said of rediscovering Eugene Ionesco’s 1962 play about a dying king in a collapsing kingdom. He’s right, and it’s an inspired move to revive the Theatre of the Absurd classic in 2018, when its story of hubris in high places feels so topical it might as well be a Saturday Night Live sketch with the king wearing a Trump wig. The play puts us at the heart of an unnamed empire, where 400-year-old King Berenger I (Rhys Ifans) is facing his mortality. “If only I could have one more century, I’d be prepared,” he complains. Over the Olivier stage looms a Ruritanian coat of arms of a black eagle painted on a vast palace wall with a deep, cracking fissure down it, a symbol of the ills afflicting the land. “Our cities are rubble, swimming pools set ablaze,” sighs the queen, in a typically surreal line. “The clouds rain toads,” frets the king’s doctor-cum-astronomer. They and a few courtiers are gathered to witness the great king’s death, which will occur, they warn him (and us) bluntly, in 68 minutes, “at the end of the play.” So it’s not a long piece, and don’t expect plot twists - or any plot, for that matter. The characters simply swirl around the same plughole for scene after ludicrous scene, until, at the climax, that giant set delivers a brilliant, slow-motion coup de théâtre you won’t forget in a hurry. It’s all mesmerisingly daft and as the King, Rhys Ifans is irresistible, declaiming his lines in a glorious Peter O’Toole voice but behaving like a petulant child who refuses to accept his fate. “Go kill the spiders in my bedroom, don’t let them outlive me!” he orders. He’s part King Lear, part Iggy Pop, a fallen idol in blue satin pyjamas. In one scene he clings to his sceptre while courtiers try to remove it, whining “ My sceptre! My one!” like a spoilt toddler. “What a sick joke is life!” he moans at another point – more or less the absurdist creed in a nutshell. But the play has more to offer than a great big avant-garde raspberry at the universe. It fires off in all directions. The king’s “grandiose narcissism” (his doctor’s phrase) could be a dig at any number of puffed-up world leaders. There’s an environmental disaster closing in on the palace. You could see the whole thing as a fugue on the folly of the human ego, the kingdom each of us builds that is doomed to collapse sooner or later… Or you could relish it as simply a very funny play about characters trapped in a slow-motion car-crash, a satirical sketch writ large, with delicious comic turns from Adrian Scarborough as the self-serving doctor and Indira Varma as the scathingly snobbish queen. (Or one of them: there’s an older queen and a younger, and no love lost between them…) However you read it, Marber has breathed new life into a work that feels like a neglected gem, a crown jewel. Re-enter Exit the King, and long may it reign. Exit the King is on at The National Theatre until 6th October
Allelujah! review: Alan Bennett's NHS play is full of wit and fury ★★★
The playwright's new drama looks at the grim realities of a geriatric ward - but it doesn't quite live up to Bennett's usual brilliance, says Michael Delgado
As I walk towards The Bridge theatre, neon-red letters scream at me from the front of the building. Nicholas Hytner’s sparkling new bankside venue is grand and exciting. What a place, then, to stage Alan Bennett’s Allelujah! – a play about a much creakier, imperiled edifice. Bennett’s latest offering, directed by long-time collaborator Hytner, is set in the geriatric ward of the Bethlehem Hospital, affectionately nicknamed The Beth. We are encouraged to see The Beth with the same fondness we see its patients. Like the delightful cast of geriatrics, the hospital is old and beset with problems, yet charming and indispensable. Tragically, the institution’s cradle-to-grave care is considered too cosy for harsh realities of modern life, and the looming threat of closure sparks a campaign to ‘Save the Beth’. Peter Forbes’ well-meaning but pompous, bumbling chairman takes the helm, and arranges for a documentary to be made about the hospital. It is the roaming camera which not only enables comic moments, but also the play’s central dramatic turn. When Bennett’s acerbic wit is allowed breathing space, the play shines. The best moments are those where sharp comedy is tempered by the grim realities of life on a geriatric ward. Gags about bladder control, impotence, and prostates abound. So does gallows humour. ‘How rude’, remarks Simon Williams’ endearingly grumpy Ambrose after hearing that his friend has died in the night. ‘Didn’t he realise there’s a queue?’ But jokes are not the whole story, and Bennett’s anger at the NHS’s decline bubbles below Allelujah’s surface. Sacha Dhawan’s Dr. Valentine is a good-natured student doctor threatened with deportation, and his plot strand quietly rages at the government’s hostility towards immigration. While the message is worthwhile, and pointedly relevant today, this thread often lacks subtlety. Valentine’s direct plea to the audience late in the second half unnecessarily breaks the fourth wall, and gives the impression that we are simply listening to Bennett tell us what he thinks. The ruthless axe of privatisation is embodied by Samuel Barnett’s sneering Colin, who has come back to his hometown to visit his ailing father. Colin wears lycra cycling gear, works in Whitehall, and goes to the opera with the Minister for Health – the very person who will decide the fate of The Beth. Colin looks too much like the pantomime villain, and I cannot help but be disappointed at some rather ham-fisted social commentary. There is much to admire in this production. Hits of winking nostalgia are provided in spades as the geriatric horde get up and dance to vintage songs at regular intervals. It is delightfully surreal to see the usually chair-bound patients jive along to Good Golly Miss Molly as the curtain comes up for the second half. Nicola Hughes’s twinkly-eyed Nurse Pinkney even lets the patients sing hymns as an impromptu choir, yet this is deemed too cosy by the older and more hardened Sister Gilchrist. The cast is assured, with Julia Foster and Jeff Rawle providing especially good performances. But beyond the frills of dry witticisms and gleeful dancing is a play which lacks some depth and focus. The second half becomes almost bloated with half-hearted plots, from an implausible crime narrative to some rather blunt ideological pronouncements. The play just feels a little more tired and old-fashioned than Bennett’s most successful work. As we applaud the play’s end after a mixed two and a half hours, the impossibly energetic cast are still dancing with excitement. Unfortunately, I’m not quite doing the same. Michael Delgado Allelujah! is at the Bridge Theatre until 29 September
“The starting point was me” - Benedict Cumberbatch on why The Child in Time was so personal
The Sherlock star talks the strain of starring in "very, very dark" BBC drama The Child in Time
How would you cope if your child vanished? This was the horrifying reality that Benedict Cumberbatch, the father of two young children, had to face in his role in The Child in Time, the BBC1 adaptation of Ian McEwan’s 1987 novel about a man whose young daughter is kidnapped from the supermarket. It’s a haunting, gut-twisting account of parental torture. “There was a point,” says Cumberbatch, “where I said to the director, ‘I’m worried I’m getting a bit too upset in these scenes.’ I suppose it’s easier to imagine [as a father], but it isn’t that difficult to imagine. These circumstances are harrowing… They’re unthinkable for any parent, for anyone who has children in their life. It’s horrific, and very, very upsetting.” View oEmbed on the source website Particularly moving for Cumberbatch was a scene in the 90-minute film where his character Stephen Lewis, a children’s author, thinks he’s seen his daughter Kate again, three years after he lost sight of her. “Everything opens up with a double sledgehammer of grief: he’s reimagining that loss, experiencing it all over again, and feeling the humiliation of running after a schoolgirl he thinks is his daughter.” When it was published three decades ago, McEwan’s novel won the Whitbread Award and was declared an “extraordinary achievement” by The Guardian, while The Times concluded that “artistically, morally and politically, he excels”. Christopher Hitchens called it McEwan’s “masterpiece”, and the book has gone on to be studied by GSCE and A-level students across Britain. “I’m a McEwan nut,” says Cumberbatch, speaking to Radio Times at a press event for the drama, “and I don’t think I would have been as interested in this story per se had it not been adapted from such a masterful work that is Ian McEwan’s original novel.” It was also the lead character who appealed to Cumberbatch – an ordinary middle-class man married to Julie, played movingly by Kelly Macdonald. “I had a desire to portray someone closer to me,” says the Sherlock actor. “Someone who didn’t require a few hours in make-up, or a great deal of strenuous mask work, or something transformative,” he says. “As far as knowing how I was going to play Stephen, it was quite nerve-racking – it’s the first time I’ve done that in a while. It’s me, as in, there’s not a huge difference in the vocal quality, the way I move. I even wanted to feel really relaxed in costume, so I brought in my own clothes, some of which we used.” Indeed, today he’s wearing a navy blue jacket and trousers identical to those that Stephen wears in the film. “The starting point was me,” he says. While McEwan’s novel is set against the backdrop of a Thatcherist government – and it’s a damning portrayal of it – the BBC drama loses its political critique, taking place in a nondescript era with a male prime minister whose political party is not specified. The drama instead focuses on the relationship between Stephen and his wife in the wake of their domestic trauma. “The book has stayed with me since I read it 30 years ago,” says screenwriter Stephen Butchard, “and for me it was always the story of love more than anything else, of these people who find the strength to keep going.” Also central to the drama is the question of how we should bring up our children, and how involved the Government should get. “You’re always going to have a debate about that,” says Cumberbatch, “because we’re rearing children all the time and trying to do better. But it’s really a relationship drama.” The beautifully shot drama looks at how a couple copes with something they never thought they’d have to – but alongside the torment, there’s a sense of hope. So what did McEwan think about this relationship-focused version of his novel? “Ian was actually thrilled about the things Stephen stripped down,” says Cumberbatch. “He said, ‘If I was writing the book [now] I’d probably want to do the same kind of edit on it – really focus on the relationships.’ He thought it was more powerful because of that.” McEwan came to the script read-through but otherwise left Butchard and the cast to their own devices. “He was thrilled with the work Stephen had already done, so his notes were very minor and very helpful,” says Cumberbatch. “If he offered anything [about the role] I’d take it, but he was just quietly respectful. He said, ‘Look, if there is anything you want to ask me, feel free to ring, the door is open.’ Maybe years down the line after it’s aired I might ask him what he thought.” Child abduction has been the subject of a spate of TV dramas over the last few years, from ITV thriller The Guilty and The Missing on BBC1, to this year’s The Moorside, the BBC1 dramatisation of the Shannon Matthews case. Was Butchard concerned that The Child in Time might be seen as another grisly drama about a kidnapping? Did he worry there might be only so much an audience could take? “I did think about it,” he says, “and I wrote the script and sat on it for 18 months and that was partly because there seemed to be a glut of child missing dramas, mainly related to crime, and thrillers. Even Broadchurch, which wasn’t overtly about child abduction, touched on it. “I knew The Child in Time was completely different, but it’s good we’ve had that gap. I think there’s enough distance now between child abduction dramas and this, which is really about the beauty of finding some purpose in the aftermath of it all.” While Cumberbatch wanted to look, sound and move just like himself while playing Stephen, he says he was determined not to contaminate his home life with thoughts of his character’s agony, despite having to shoot certain heart-rending scenes 40 times or more for eight hours a day. “It’s incredibly unhealthy to bring work home and I didn’t want to bring that subject matter into our family life. Sophie [Hunter, his wife] didn’t read the script and hasn’t read the book so that’s an example of how I tried to separate the work [from his home life]. “The story is going to affect people reading and watching it, but at the same time it’s an enriching and loving tale of endurance and committing to love – a love that was there before and will endure after this horrible acceptance of an absence. The salvation in this very, very dark story of loss.” This article was originally published in September 2017 View oEmbed on the source website
Copenhagen: Where to eat like a local and drink like a Dane
Fancy a weekend away in Saga Noren's hometown? Don't miss the Tivoli Gardens' retro rides, crazy liquorice and that bridge...
With its sparkling waterways, serene cyclists and lively streets, Copenhagen is often voted the world’s most “liveable” city – but you don’t need to settle there to see the appeal. The Danish capital is the ideal city break for lovers of food, history, culture and design – and fans of the hit Scandi-noir drama The Bridge, which is set in the Danish capital and the Swedish city of Malmo, linked by the stunning Oresund Bridge. Here’s our quick tour of Copenhagen’s many highlights to whet your appetite… High culture — and wild rides The Christiansborg Palace is home to the Danish Supreme Court, parliament and the administrative offices of the royal family, and it’s where politician Birgitte Nyborg spent her days in the political drama Borgen. Take the lift up to the top of the palace, and on a clear day you can see all the way to Sweden. Back at ground level, a guided canal tour is a relaxing way to spot the Opera House, the old canal district of Christianshavn and the Little Mermaid statue. And on dry land, whether you like rollercoasters or not, amusement park Tivoli Gardens is enchanting, full of exotic plants, shimmering pavilions and open-air music, right in the centre of Copenhagen. A 25-minute train ride outside the city is the impressive Louisiana Museum of Modern Art, with over 3,000 works of art, a sculpture park and beautiful sea views. Find flights to Copenhagen Compare best-rated hotels in Copenhagen Eat like a local… Try classic Danish rye bread sandwiches, or smorrebrod, topped with herrings and salt beef at café Din Nye Ven (Your New Friend) in central Copenhagen. Gemyse, at the Nimb Hotel in Tivoli Gardens, serves delicious organic food that is grown in the restaurant gardens and in a sustainable farm in North Sealand, the area north of the city. Visit the buzzing Latin quarter and enjoy modern Danish food and good wine at the beautifully designed Vakst, or a cosy meal at the unfussy but tasty Madklubben Vesterbro. Denmark’s first street food market, Paper Island, closed last year but has reopened under the name Reffen in a new, larger area by the waterfront, with 50 food stalls selling local and international food. …and drink like a Dane The laid-back Brus is great for local beers and cocktails, or try the swish Balthazar Champagne Bar for something more luxurious. Musen Og Elefanten is a cosy old pub with a cigar lounge upstairs, and beer enthusiasts will enjoy Mikkeller, a relaxed bar in minimalist Danish style, serving high-quality craft beer. Don’t lose sleep The Andersen Hotel, First Hotel Mayfair, Nimb Hotel and the Nyhavn Hotel are all stylish and comfortable. Steel House is also a good option; it’s a beautifully designed new hostel near Central Station, with shared and private rooms in the former headquarters of the Danish Metalworkers’ Union. Ceramics — and liquorice Almost every household in Denmark has Royal Copenhagen’s delicate blue-and-white porcelain mugs – its flagship store is in the centre of the city. You can buy modern Danish kitchen items, rugs, ceramics and furniture all over Copenhagen, in stylish shops including Stilleben, Hay, Normann and department store Illums Bolighus. The Danes are infatuated with liquorice (lakrids), which you can buy in all supermarkets. It’s often salty rather than sweet and distinctly different from British liquorice. Cross the bridge — and see Sweden, too It’s easy to see some of Sweden by travelling across the Oresund Bridge, which connects Copenhagen to Malmo – not only are the views beautiful, it’s the real bridge at the heart of The Bridge, so surely crossing it is a rite of passage for fans of the show. A train leaves every ten minutes from the central train station and takes 35 minutes to reach Malmo, at a cost of the equivalent of around £11. If you choose to drive, the toll fee for a car is 50 euros each way. WHY GO NOW? From 7 May to 23 September, see the Welcome Home exhibition – about Danish homes and the way Danes live – at the Danish Architecture Centre, which has just moved to the new urban BLOX building on the harbour front. The Copenhagen Cooking and Food Festival runs from 24 August to 2 September, with events across the city celebrating its world-class reputation for food. It’s also worth visiting the gleaming new restaurants and hotels that have opened just inside Tivoli Gardens, in celebration of its 175th anniversary this year. The Bridge is on Fridays, BBC2, 9pm Cheap flights to Copenhagen Search top hotels in Copenhagen The Bridge creator Hans Rosenfeldt's guide to Malmo and Stockholm Sofia Helin shares the secrets of Stockholm's Old Town Our guide to Malmo and Wallander's home - Ystad
"I'm keeping my eye on Mo Farah": Usain Bolt on Soccer Aid and watching The Big Bang Theory
Olympic gold medallist Usain Bolt discusses his football skills and TV viewing habits with Radio Times
Soccer Aid welcomes the world’s fastest man and Olympic gold medallist Usain Bolt who tells Radio Times how he watches sport and Peaky Blinders – alone You’re at home in Jamaica – what can you see from the sofa? My living room sofa faces a large TV – to the left is my trophy room, to the right you can see my garden. I bet you’ve got a sizeable sofa… I would call it a huge lounger. It is a “U” shape and fits around eight to ten people. I often get a lot of friends coming round to hang out. I like chilling by myself but also with friends. Soccer Aid 2018: meet the teams The best women's sport on TV in 2018 RadioTimes.com newsletter: get the latest TV and entertainment news direct to your inbox View oEmbed on the source website Where do you keep all your awards and medals? My medals are in a bank in Jamaica. Is there a show you never miss? I only really watch live TV for sport. Otherwise it’s box sets or movies – I just finished Peaky Blinders. What makes you laugh? I love comedy. I watch a lot of the comedian Kevin Hart and The Big Bang Theory. Are you easily distracted when watching TV? No, my agent and manager often ask me things when I’m watching TV and I say yes. Then later I don’t ever remember having spoken to them, because I was focused on the TV! Did your parents discipline you as a child? I imagine it was difficult because you could just run away… My parents were very strict growing up, especially my dad. He has typical Jamaican family values, I didn’t mess with him. My mum was the softie, so they were a good balance. You’re taking part in Soccer Aid for Unicef this year – why did you want to get involved? Easy. I love football. I love competing in front of a big crowd. But most of all I love the fact that this game will make a real difference to thousands of children around the world. I’m the captain of the World XI team and I will be motivating my team to win. How do you think playing on a team will be different from all of your racing experience? I know I have the speed and am working on my skills and tactics. We will take it seriously but it’s going to be a lot of fun. I’m told Gordon Ramsay can get stuck in so I’m sure it will be a great game. Is there anyone you’ll be looking out for on the pitch? Sir Mo Farah. We have known each other for many years. I don’t know how good he is on the ball but I know he will be able to run all day… and night… and day. How many pairs of trainers do you have? I have had thousands! I have been sponsored by Puma since I was 15. I tend to give them away when I don’t use them any more and am fortunate to get new ones every time a new model comes out. View oEmbed on the source website Are you slow or fast on the dancefloor? I love to dance and anyone who knows me or has followed me will have seen me dance a lot. Dancing and music are a big part of Jamaican culture. Do you have any bad domestic habits? I tend to stay up very late at night and sleep late in the day, but I live by myself, so I think I am great to live with! Soccer Aid is on Sunday 10th June at 6.30pm on ITV Sign up for the free RadioTimes.com newsletter
Ordeal by Innocence star Bill Nighy reveals why he almost gave up acting
The star of the BBC's new Agatha Christie adaptation explains why he longs to be typecast
Are you an Agatha Christie fan? I discovered the books when young and read all of them. I gave them to my daughter when she was 12. It was marvellous to see her go through them. Did you remember the Ordeal by Innocence story from having read it? I barely remember my name! I buy books and get to chapter three and go, “Oh! I’ve done it again. I read this in 1995.” I’ve done that half a dozen times. So I didn’t remember, no! View oEmbed on the source website Meet the cast of Agatha Christie drama Ordeal by Innocence Ordeal by Innocence: the inside story of how the series was reshot after the allegations against Ed Westwick Did you go back to the book? If I’m doing adaptations of novels, I don’t read the book. You don’t need all that information, which may or may not have survived into the script. Who do you play? Leo Argyll, widower of the murdered Rachel Argyll and head of a rather strange house comprising their five adopted children, all of whom have shady pasts. Everyone looks very shifty, and hopefully the audience will bounce around trying to figure it out. Leo is an amateur Egyptologist and very interested in dead bodies… Have you ever been accused of something you didn’t do? Yes. At assembly once in school, somebody next to me did something like pinch somebody’s bum, and I was accused of doing it. I was sent to the headmaster to be beaten and then the boy who did it came up and confessed, which was quite a big deal. He rocketed in my estimation. Do you ever watch yourself on telly? No. I tried that when I was young and less complicated to look at, and it was bloody awful. I was third bank robber in Softly, Softly [BBC1 1976]. I was staying in digs with some people — they were all crowded in the front room, and then I came on TV. I walked out, it was so terrible. What was so bad about it? I had a phoney accent, which was just not committed enough, and my hair, obviously. Oh! I went on Richard & Judy once, and they said, “We’ve got a bit of a surprise for you.” I said, “Oh?” And they showed Softly, Softly. So I was on TV, watching myself on TV. It was horrible. If you wanted to find out the perfect way to wind me up, this was it. Did you ever think about quitting acting? Oh, I thought of quitting, if not daily, then weekly. I was so unhappy. I just hated it, for years. It’s not unpleasant all the time, and you work with great people and I am proud of some of the things I’ve done. You get a degree of satisfaction when it’s over, but the actual process is never satisfactory. What kept you going? I couldn’t think of anything else to do. I flunked school — not that that would prevent you from doing anything in life — but I didn’t have any other ideas. I was deeply self-conscious, which you are supposed to be. Every actor is self-conscious. Would you like to do more TV series? Yes, I would. I was quite surprised when I got this because I don’t normally get many TV offers. I don’t mind how big the screen is, I don’t mind where the screen is, I don’t even mind if there is no screen. If the material is any good — and good material is thin on the ground — I don’t care if it’s on telly, film or on stage. Do you worry about being typecast? Oh, I long to be typecast! You can do good work. Having said that, I had a great time being a squid in Pirates of the Caribbean. View oEmbed on the source website
"I’ll watch any old rubbish": Ken Bruce talks TV habits and meeting his wife at Eurovision
The Radio 2 presenter will host BBC music festival The Biggest Weekend
The Radio 2 presenter and broadcaster Ken Bruce will be headed to Perth this bank holiday weekend, as he presents BBC Music’s The Biggest Weekend. Here, he talks success, TV habits - and meeting his wife at Eurovision. When is The Biggest Weekend on TV? What time is it, and who are the acts? Noel and Liam Gallagher to headline BBC’s Biggest Weekend Festival – in separate shows RadioTimes.com newsletter: get the latest TV and entertainment news direct to your inbox View oEmbed on the source website Tell me about your sofa… Years ago I bought a large sevenseat, chocolate-brown corner sofa on a whim (it was on offer!). It’s a bit tattered now, but to remove it I’d have to demolish a wall, so there it stays. It tends to be full of children and dogs, so I got myself a little armchair, and I have first dibs on that. The telly is in one corner, and on the other side of the fireplace is the “trophy” cabinet, which includes my Ready Steady Cook plate, Celebrity Mastermind trophy and two others for shows yet to air, so not a word! What shows can’t you miss? I keep up with Coronation Street, and Harry Hill never fails to make me laugh. And I find the Gogglebox stars funny – Tommy Malone is one of my favourites. And those reunion shows tend to make me remove my glasses to take something out of my eye… You met your wife at the Eurovision Song Contest – how does it feel sharing an anniversary with the event? Kerith and I met at Eurovision 98 in Birmingham and it probably has given me a warmer feeling about the contest, and kept me coming back, despite the UK’s poor showings. It must be a little like childbirth: you forget the pain by the time the next one is due. But I do love it really and I’ll be in Israel next year, all being well. Who is your favourite person to watch TV with? My wife and I watch together and comment and laugh at the same things. However, somehow the two youngest [Verity and Charlie] always seem to find the remote before we can, so we often end up watching, and complaining about, terrible American teen dramas or screechy kids’ comedies. Do you eat in front of the telly? I love eating while watching TV – and having the odd drink. The more high-quality the programme, the less I seem to need to consume. At the bottom end of the televisual scale, give me a pepperoni pizza or chicken wings and wedges, washed down by a beer or a glass of wine, and I’ll watch any old rubbish. Who’s the greatest broadcaster you’ve worked with? Sir Terry Wogan. He could do anything on TV or radio and make it look effortless, but he put in a lot of work to make it appear so. I love the (few) presenters who inspire utter confidence as a viewer – Eamonn Holmes is like that, nothing fazes him. And Mel Giedroyc is also really engaging. Do you feel at home in the modern digital age? I’m pretty comfortable with it. We got a Sky box a few years ago because our TV signal was so bad, only to discover a few months later that a contractor had cut through the aerial cable, and, once restored, we had a perfect signal and didn’t need the box. But by then all the kids’ stations had been discovered and there was no going back. What would you have been if not a radio presenter? Lost to society. Ken Bruce will be presenting from Perth over BBC Music’s The Biggest Weekend, 25—28 May, Radio 1, 2, 3 and 6 Sign up for the free RadioTimes.com newsletter
Mood Music at The Old Vic review: A compelling look at creativity and narcissism ★★★★
Ben Chaplin is captivating as a middle-aged musician fighting a young singer over song credits, says Kasia Delgado
When asked why he hires female singers for his songs, middle-aged musician Bernard says casually, "because they're cheaper." The Old Vic audience laughs darkly and knowingly at this nonchalant admission that women are treated badly in the music industry. In the age of the gender pay gap and #MeToo, that comment strikes a particularly loud note. But Bernard doesn't laugh or seem to think there's anything wrong with the fact that women are cheaper. To him it seems perfectly normal and if it is bad, it isn't really his problem. This sets the tone for Joe Penhall's play about former big rock star Bernard (Ben Chaplin) who has teamed up with young singer-songwriter Cat to make a record. The duo end up in a war over who really wrote the hit song they produced, who deserves the credit. Chaplin is gripping and very funny as a controlling ego-maniac who gets off on making Cat suffer but is also shimmering with rock-star charisma. It's a testament to how well the play is written - and acted- because while Bernard's awful, he's also charming enough that he never repels the audience entirely, you want more of Bernard because despite being a nightmarish narcissist, he's also alluring. He gets away with it just as so many real rock stars always have. Seána Kerslake brims with fury and doubt as young musician Cat, simultaneously dazzled by Bernard and wishing he was dead for taking advantage of her inexperience and passion. Book tickets for Mood Music The play is about the music industry but it's more about women and men, the systematic reasons that females get a bad deal so much of the time, and the myth of the artistic genius. For much of the play, Cat and Bernard talk to their psychotherapists and lawyers, having hugely entertaining and maddening conversations about how and why things have gone so wrong. Neil Stuke is brilliant as Bernard's slippery but exasperated lawyer, spitting with frustration as his client destroys everything gleefully and purposefully, a child trampling on a sandcastle. Mood Music never lectures or feels too earnest. It's a witty, realistic look at creativity and commercialism - and how the clash between them can lead to carnage. Mood Music is at the Old Vic, London, until 16 June Book tickets for Mood Music Bat Out of Hell review: A thrilling assault on the senses Chicago review: Cuba Gooding Jr turns on the charm Quiz: Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? play is a winner Strictly Ballroom review
Genevieve O'Reilly plays The Secret's naive but guilty killer beautifully
James Nesbitt is excellent in ITV's real-life drama, but it's O'Reilly as Hazel who deserves the plaudits for this dark story, says Kasia Delgado
It's been a tricky week for The Secret. Not in ratings terms - it's a hit - but because it has upset the daughter of Lesley Howell, the real-life murdered mother portrayed in the ITV drama. The family claims permission to make the drama was never sought, and daughter Lauren Bradford's case was raised during Prime Minister's Questions, where her local MP argued that relatives need more rights over their stories – especially ones as traumatic as this one. This topic raises lots of difficult, important questions about dramatisations of real-life events – and in a way, I feel guilty for enjoying a piece of TV that has been painful for the family of the victims. The Secret: how a mild-mannered dentist murdered two people and buried the truth for years James Nesbitt explains why The Secret’s true story of murder is close to home And yet, you cannot ignore the fact that The Secret, as a piece of TV, deserves all the praise it gets for its staggeringly good acting. James Nesbitt is bewitching as Colin, a man so obsessed with God, punishment and redemption that he's found a way to justify murder. View oEmbed on the source website But while everyone's talking about Nesbitt's on-screen power, it's really Genevieve O'Reilly (Banished, Episodes) who is hooking me in to this grim story. Nesbitt's Colin Howell seems convinced his life and actions are of epic, biblical proportions. God sees him, he's sure of it, and he's centre stage in his family life, running bible classes and basking in his popularity. He's a local hero with a sinister inner world. But O'Reilly's Hazel, Colin's accomplice, is quieter and harder to read, engulfed in a vulnerable innocence that makes her guilt seem all the more disturbing. We can guess what Colin's thinking: we know he's being driven by something far darker than the holy book, and that these brutal plans have come from his desperation to have what he wants. But O'Reilly's skilful portrayal of Hazel leaves you wondering whether the plan could have been stirring in her mind, too – or whether her initial shock at the thought of a double murder was real. I've re-watched that scene several times, where Colin suggests the murder plan to Hazel, simply because O'Reilly's reaction is so alarmingly imperceptible. A look of wide-eyed disbelief, and then a slow, almost baiting, "We'll never get away with it." Cue long, silent looks. The deal is done. They are blood brothers – or blood lovers. But what has she been thinking this whole time? O'Reilly never quite lets you into Hazel's mind, forcing you to question your own intuition about this character. There are moments when you think she's in way too deep, that she never truly wanted this. But in other scenes that power dynamic vanishes, when you wonder if Hazel is far more calculating than she seems. So here's to O'Reilly, my new favourite actor. In every episode of The Secret, she manages to vacillate smoothly between a wholesome female under the spell of a manipulative man, and a self-aware woman who's actually stage-managing the horror. This article was originally published in May 2016
Stephen Mangan on his new show Bliss – and why Green Wing didn’t win more awards
The actor's new Sky 1 comedy sees him playing a man struggling to conceal a double life
What have you been watching? I loved Stranger Things and Blue Planet II. Strictly, too, but I wouldn’t go on it because nobody needs to see me in a pair of tight trousers with a shaved chest. I’ll also tell you what I haven’t been watching… That’s the opposite of what this column is for, but go on… I agreed to go on the Game of Thrones discussion show Thronecast but I hadn’t actually seen any of it. Then I realised the fans are so fanatical they’d tear me limb from limb, so I sat down and watched hours of it for two weeks – I took notes, did family trees. It was like doing an A-level. First look at Stephen Mangan and Heather Graham in new Sky 1 comedy Bliss Stephen Mangan to play a troubled therapist in new Channel 4 comedy Hang Ups In your comedy Bliss your character leads a double life with two families. That also sounds like hard work... It must be an absolute nightmare. I’ve got one family and even that’s brought me to the edge of exhaustion. My character ends up in this ridiculous situation through a cowardly niceness and not fessing up to things. You can relate to him because he just keeps putting off that moment of reckoning, which we all do in our lives all the time. Your character is a travel writer – what would you have been if not an actor? I did a law degree but I wasn’t ever really going to go down that route. I just played a barrister and I’m very glad I went to work down the glitter mine. How do you relax? One of the great joys of having kids is reading to them. I have three [ten, seven and nearly two] and my wife [actress Louise Delamere] is going to keep having kids so I can keep doing my silly voices. The most shameful thing I ever did was when I was in a play and my eldest was very young. As he was falling asleep I’d put on an audiobook of Tamsin Greig and me reading fairy stories. He thought every story started with “Read by Stephen Mangan”. Would you and Tamsin ever do more Green Wing? Maybe in five years we’ll be desperate for the money… It’ll always be one of the things I’m most proud of. It didn’t really win any awards because Little Britain was out at the same time. That won everything. David Walliams would just keep coming down from the podium holding his award and flick us the Vs. Do you and Matt LeBlanc keep in touch after Episodes? He’s over here a lot because of that under-the-radar car show he does. We phone each other. It’s nice to see he’s got a career. I’m going to miss doing Episodes. I’d watched Friends so, so many times and to be in a room with him felt odd. And then I realised he’s just as much of an idiot as the rest of us. View oEmbed on the source website