From the comedy circuit to the wrestling ring – Phil Wang takes on Ed Gamble in a fight for glory. But how do the two stages compare?
Add Clash of the Comics to your watchlist For comedy fans, it was the grudge match they’d been waiting for as two titans of the UK scene faced off in front of a 3,000-strong crowd at the Hammersmith Apollo in London last month. But the night, billed Clash of the Comics, was not the verbal jousting of a stand-up roast battle: the usually mild-mannered Phil “Kill” Wang was defending his title as British comedy’s top wrestler against Ed “the Gambler” Gamble. “It was my lifelong dream to be a professional wrestler,” says 35-year-old Wang, who grew up in Borneo watching international stars of the sport like “Stone Cold” Steve Austin, “The Rock” and Japan’s “Último Dragón”, and then imitating their moves in the school playground. “I never liked boxing, but this sort of performative fighting, where each character has their own special moves, was like playing the video game Street Fighter.” Out of fashion with mainstream broadcasters, wrestling’s golden era might be a distant memory for fans of 80s colossi like Big Daddy and Giant Haystacks, but there remains a thriving scene on both sides of the Atlantic with millions of ardent fans, Wang among them. As well as the main event, contemporary wrestlers like “Bullit” and Nina Samuels rub up against the likes of Maisie Adam, Rosie Jones and Max Fosh in the show, while James Acaster takes on The Celebrity Traitors star Joe Marler. Wrestler-turned-comedian Max Olesker and his double-act partner Ivan Gonzalez first persuaded pals to enter the ring at the Edinburgh Fringe in 2011. While he and Gamble are huge wrestling fans, Wang’s not surprised that their peers have taken to it so readily. “It’s basically a violent panto,” he explains. “Wrestlers and comics have strikingly similar lives, touring our respective circuits with our own routines. They call their moves ‘spots’, which we’d call ‘bits’. They’ll run through a sequence of spots that make up a match, saving the biggest ones to the end, just like we might do with our biggest jokes. You’re building the audience up to hopefully some big, cathartic, explosive moments.” The difference being that unlike in his debut fight against Gamble back in 2023, Wang probably wouldn’t crash through a table in the middle of his touring show. But did he worry that the professionals might object to a bunch of clowns muscling in on their turf? “It’s a learnt craft but it’s not taken very seriously,” says Wang, who adds he’s learnt a lot about the art of public performance from trying to deliver fourth wall-breaking, self-referential humour while landing the perfect move. “Everyone’s in on the joke.” For all the tongue-in-cheek bravado on display, it’s not about being competitive. “It’s not up to you whether you win or not. We want to put on the best show and pull off the coolest moves.” Wang remembers learning a move called a hurricanerana, which involves getting up on your rival’s shoulders with your legs, flipping backwards and throwing them down. “I suggested that as a joke, because I’m such a big guy, and Max said, ‘Right, you’re doing it!’” After being put through their paces by pros at a wrestling school in south London, Wang and Gamble built up their routine with Max and Ivan: “They’d ask what moves we’ve always liked, what the set pieces would be and how we’d get there. We’d get on our feet in the ring and mess about – ‘Maybe it’d be good if you chop me here?’; ‘Here, I’m going to twist your nipples…’” On the night, there are no rehearsals. “The professionals told us there’s no point practising, because you’ll just use up what’s in the tank.” Wang says the nerves were overwhelming, closer to the high wire of improvisation than traditional stand-up. “As an experienced comedian, you still get butterflies before a show, but you don’t get that adrenaline-pumping fear of your first gigs. Here you have that, with the added bonus of thinking in the back of your mind: ‘I hope I don’t break my arm.’” The comics inevitably took the odd bump – but, he says, the pain never strikes where you’d expect it to. “The previous show, I was practising a drop kick and whacked a bone in my foot, and that hurt for months. Run up against a rope too hard and you can have bruised vertebrae for weeks, but going through a table feels fantastic.” (Don’t try this at home, kids.) But Wang almost came a cropper, thanks to his costume, a remodelled version of the notoriously tight Bruce Lee tribute yellow jumpsuit he wore on Taskmaster, which left little to the imagination. “It turns out having frills down the side of the arms isn’t practical when you’re fighting, because you keep getting caught on them, kneeling on them and stumbling over them.” Would he bring it out of the wardrobe for a rematch with Gamble? “I’m always up for another wrestling show, though recovery takes longer as I get older. I hope this finds an audience on TV – it’s a big, fun format, and an all-star comedy thing feels quite special. You don’t often get this number of people in one place.” And the rivalry with Ed? “It’s friendly – but it will continue, always. In and out of the ring.”
A new series of Civilisations opens the doors of the British Museum to explore epochal society change, seen through its finest objects
Add Civilisations to your watchlist Almost 60 years on from Kenneth Clark’s landmark series, and seven years since its follow-up, the BBC returns to Civilisations with a plethora of academics on hand to chart the rise and fall of Ancient Rome, Cleopatra’s Egypt, the samurai of Japan and the lost world of the Aztecs. A wealth of treasures from the British Museum, some not on display but conserved behind the scenes, bring the stories to life, along with dramatic reconstructions. RT asked four of the series’ contributors to explain what some of the collection’s most striking items tell us about shifting powers in these ancient civilisations. JAPAN Suit of armour, Katna swords - 19th century Iszi Lawrence, broadcaster and host of the British Museum's membership podcast “This suit of armour, dating from the mid-19th century, is incredibly beautiful and intricate. The mask, with its dragon motif, is designed to be intimidating on the battlefield. Too heavy to be functional, it symbolised honour and family pride. Samurai would have commissioned and conserved armour like this because they wanted to stay connected to their warrior past. “The US Navy expedition of 1853, led by Matthew Perry, effectively forced Japan to trade with America, leading to the collapse of the Tokugawa shogunate, the military government that had kept the population isolated. “Samurai, who were high up in the social strata, lost their identity, effectively becoming heavily armed bureaucrats. They could still carry a long-blade katana for training and a shorter piece for indoor use, but these beautifully and individually decorated swords became status symbols. Work would have dried up for the armourers, too, who depended on active samurai for their trade.” AZTECS Turquoise mosaic mask - 15th century The Aubin Codex - 1576 Professor Caroline Dodds Pennock, University of Sheffield “The turquoise mask is thought to represent Xiuhtecuhtli — the Aztec god of fire, time and the year, who was known as the ‘Turquoise Lord’. It was probably ceremonial, worn as part of a ritual as a death mask or by ixiptla — impersonators of the gods who were sacrificed in rituals. This mythical replaying of history would happen repeatedly in a temple, in full view of the populace. The jade and turquoise would have been imported — being able to command these luxury goods symbolised the empire’s strength. “The Aubin Codex is an 81-page painted pictorial history of more than 400 years leading to the fall of the Aztec empire at the hands of the Spanish army, led by Hernán Cortés, from 1519–1521. The Aztecs had readers of days, known as tonalpouhque, who would study the cycles of the Aztec calendar to forecast the future. “The Codex represents the indigenous peoples’ efforts to come to terms with their histories, adapting how they told them into European alphabetic forms while still preserving their own pictographic forms.” EGYPT Colossal statue of Ramses II - c.1270 BC Mummified crocodile - c.650-550 BC Professor Islam Issa, Birmingham City University “Ramses II looms large in Room 4 of the British Museum. In this granite statue, acquired in 1817, the pharaoh’s looking down at you rather than straight in front of him. Ramses was very good at creating iconographies out of himself during his lifetime so that he could be revered and remembered. A full 11m-tall statue of the pharoah stands in the entrance of the Grand Egyptian Museum in Cairo, which fully opened this month. “Crocodiles were kept in temple enclosures and treated like gods. Mummification was intended to project pharaohs’ power and this one, believed to be a manifestation of the god Sobek, the ancient crocodile god of fertility and military power, is remarkable for its sheer size — close to 4m long and weighing 100kg. It’s well preserved and has about 20 infant mummified crocodiles on top. “When Alexander the Great arrived in Egypt, one of his men wanted to kill some of the crocodiles, which caused a big issue with local priests; crocodiles were sacred, and were in the Nile, the source for life for Egypt.” ROME Terracotta theatre mask - 2nd century AD Lycurgus cup - 4th century AD Alice Poletto, British School of Rome “The terracotta mask is the face of a German warrior — Romans would never have styled their hair with a ponytail above the right ear! Terracotta was too heavy for traditional theatrical use, though the sealed mouth suggests it was used for some sort of pantomime acting of a stereotyped ‘foreigner’. Ridiculing outsiders cemented one’s own position in society at a time of mass migration of people who wanted to flee invading forces and enjoy the protection of the Roman empire. “We’re frequently inclined to believe that late antiquity was a period of decay, but there were objects made with extraordinary craftsmanship and technology. Scholars recently discovered that this cup features microscopic chips of gold and silver, which help illuminate it in different ways. The relief is believed to illustrate Dionysus and Bacchus — even at a time when Christianity was taking over, paganist iconography remained popular.”
Sir David Attenborough lends his voice to Kingdom, a new six-part documentary that follows four African animal families across five years, in a remote river valley in Zambia. Meet the stars of the show…
Add Kingdom to your watchlist Lions: Rita and Cubs Simon Blakeney, series editor “We follow the pride as it coheres, and they collectively become an increasingly powerful force. But the moment lions have cubs, they suddenly become incredibly vulnerable. As the mothers go off elsewhere to look after their offspring, the pride loses its protection. And while Rita’s off hunting, something terrible happens. “This to and fro is the truth of the natural world. They’re big powerful predators but, like all the animals, they have their areas of weakness.” Leopards: Olimba, Moyo and Mutima Felicity Lanchester, series producer “Early on in the shoot, we were filming a pair of hippos when the leopard family we’d been searching for all day emerged from the bush. One of the cubs, Moyo, creeps closer and closer as the hippo gets grumpier and grumpier, while the other cub, Mutima, relaxes in a hippo’s footprint! “Olimba has been in the area for more than ten years and is a wonderful mother who has successfully raised cubs before. Chaos happens around her. Over five years, we see the mother/daughter relationship between Olimba and Mutima break down and the physical battle between them. It’s a succession story as the initially shy Mutima becomes as wise and strong as her mother.” Wild dogs: Led by Storm Anna Place, producer “We’re used to seeing wild dogs fall in line to chase prey. But with this pack, if one of them spots something, 20 of them will run off in different directions at 40mph. It’s chaos — one chases a baboon up a tree, others go after an antelope. I love their persistence; they just keep going! We see them swim across a river, which I don’t think has been shown before. “Every dog counts. They can’t survive alone, or in small packs. You see how social they are, how they look after and care for each other — as soon as they wake up they’re playing, wagging their tails. They were fabulous to film. I loved being an honorary wild dog!” Hyenas: Tandala and family Felicity Lanchester, series producer “Hyena clans have looser bonds than wild dogs — they opt in and out. When we meet Tandala, she’s pregnant and alone, hiding her food from predators; later, the hyenas group together to eat a buffalo carcass. At their communal den, cubs play with young baboons. But the parents don’t look after each other’s cubs; when one cub loses its mother, the others ignore it. We were surprised by how much non-predators — baboons, mongooses, warthogs — adored the hyenas. You’d expect a ricochet of alarm calls, but they were relaxed in their company.”
10 Questions with Felicity Jones and Joel Edgerton
They’re swapping Star Wars ships for life on the American railroad in a drama with an environmental punch.
Add Train Dreams to your watchlist Australian actor and writer Joel Edgerton, 51, and Birmingham-born Felicity Jones, 42, take us back to the railroad frontiers of early 20th-century America in their new film Train Dreams. Adapted from US author Denis Johnson’s novella, it charts the joy and pain endured by Robert Grainier (Edgerton), a logger and railroad worker in the Pacific Northwest, with his wife Gladys. The film celebrates quiet stoicism in a swiftly changing world. As actors who’ve played in the Star Wars universe (Joel in a film and TV show, and Felicity in spinoff movie Rogue One), was the prospect of a grounded film that puts an “average” couple centrestage particularly appealing? JOEL EDGERTON I think people like to see ordinary lives reflected on screen. Why not celebrate the heroic nature of an ordinary life? Is falling in love not a big event? FELICITY JONES In today’s world, it’s particularly important to celebrate the value of being thoughtful and considered. JOEL Probably 99 per cent of us will never be written into the history books. Like George Bailey discovered in It’s a Wonderful Life, if we’re lucky enough to live a long life, the journey is worth it. What can a film set in the early 1900s teach us about life today? FELICITY You’re at the mercy of whatever time you’re in. We feel we have so much control, but actually we have very little, and it depends on the technological shifts we experience. JOEL Robert feels the same existential threat from the introduction of the chainsaw as we feel today with AI. If you were transported to that time, what would you miss from today’s world? FELICITY Washing machines and dishwashers. Love those! JOEL Having access to every single piece of music at all times. But if some world event caused the internet to crash, I’d adapt quickly. I hate being spoiled for choice. I get intimidated when I walk into a bookstore. I read Train Dreams because someone handed it to me and I trusted them. Joel, since you first read the book in 2014, you’ve become a father to four-year-old twin boys. How has that changed your perspective on its themes of protecting your family? JOEL The book’s a very human exploration of violence. This man is a good person who stumbled into a difficult situation and wore the guilt of his experience. But rereading it after becoming a father, I connected in a whole different bunch of ways. I feel like I’m more equipped to do it, but it’s a little scarier to put my greatest fears on screen. I’ve played so many fathers and now I want to see if I can get it right! Robert is a man of few words. Was that a challenge to convey? JOEL I discovered in the Covid lockdowns I was really comfortable being at home, not interacting with anyone other than my partner. I’d always defined myself as an extrovert, then I realised it was all smoke and mirrors to parade myself and play a character in public. I’m actually a bit of a hermit. If allowed to, I’d happily spend the whole day at home. Felicity, how did it feel to move from filming the four-hour epic The Brutalist to this more intimate and low-key film? FELICITY In a strange way, they’re similar in that they’re both exploring the American dream, but from very different angles. I think what’s so exciting at the moment is that audiences seem to want these really idiosyncratic, distinctive films. Your roles look quite physically demanding — was that intimidating at all? FELICITY Exploring the outdoor way of life was a big draw for me, and the physicality is a huge part of that. Gladys moves in a really direct way. She’s not overthinking everything like we do today when we’re in ten places in our heads all the time. She is wise but pragmatic. JOEL Growing up, I lived on the edge of a national park in Australia. I collected tadpoles, and I was always building weapons. Now I live a much more cerebral life – I was building a volcano kit for my kids the other day, and even following the instruction manual, I forgot a key stage. Does living among nature appeal to you? FELICITY There’s something about living in nature and realising how changeable everything is – you get hardened to the cycles of life and death on a daily basis. JOEL I like meeting rural people. You can almost tell straightaway, even if you meet them in the middle of the city – they’re capable, they don’t fuss, and they’re often blunt. Do you feel that there’s an environmental message about humanity’s impact on nature in this film? JOEL There is, but it’s quite gentle; this isn’t a film trying to push one message. We have to remind ourselves that, although we’re capable of pretending we’re the rulers of this world, we are just one of the animals on it. FELICITY We have a reciprocal relationship with nature, and we have to respect it, otherwise it will show us the destruction it can cause. After a cinema release, Train Dreams will be on Netflix — do you mind people dual-screening or even just watching it on their phones? JOEL I’ve even seen people dual-screening in the cinema – who dares do that? Dude in row D, seat 11: you’re dead to me! I hope that in the sanctuary of their homes, people will allow themselves to stay with the film from start to finish. FELICITY I believe in “best story wins”. If the story works, you don’t want to look at your phone. I feel that with this, it’s testament to the storytelling – you get hooked into these characters, you want to keep watching.
Felicity Jones and Joel Edgerton talk AI, dual screen watching, and their film’s environmental message
Climate - Sustainable contributions within wider content
This article first appeared in Radio Times magazine. Australian actor and writer Joel Edgerton, 51, and Birmingham-born Felicity Jones, 42, take us back to the railroad frontiers of early 20th-century America in their new film Train Dreams. Adapted from US author Denis Johnson’s novella, it charts the joy and pain endured by Robert Grainier (Edgerton), a logger and railroad worker in the Pacific Northwest, with his wife Gladys. The film celebrates quiet stoicism in a swiftly changing world. As actors who’ve played in the Star Wars universe (Joel in a film and TV show, and Felicity in spin-off movie Rogue One), was the prospect of a grounded film that puts an “average” couple centre-stage particularly appealing? JOEL EDGERTON I think people like to see ordinary lives reflected on screen. Why not celebrate the heroic nature of an ordinary life? Is falling in love not a big event? FELICITY JONES In today’s world, it’s particularly important to celebrate the value of being thoughtful and considered. JOEL Probably 99 per cent of us will never be written into the history books. Like George Bailey discovered in It’s a Wonderful Life, if we’re lucky enough to live a long life, the journey is worth it. View oEmbed on the source website What can a film set in the early 1900s teach us about life today? FELICITY You’re at the mercy of whatever time you’re in. We feel we have so much control, but actually we have very little, and it depends on the technological shifts we experience. JOEL Robert feels the same existential threat from the introduction of the chainsaw as we feel today with AI. If you were transported to that time, what would you miss from today’s world? FELICITY Washing machines and dishwashers. Love those! JOEL Having access to every single piece of music at all times. But if some world event caused the internet to crash, I’d adapt quickly. I hate being spoiled for choice. I get intimidated when I walk into a bookstore. I read Train Dreams because someone handed it to me and I trusted them. Joel, since you first read the book in 2014, you’ve become a father to four-year-old twin boys. How has that changed your perspective on its themes of protecting your family? JOEL The book’s a very human exploration of violence. This man is a good person who stumbled into a difficult situation and wore the guilt of his experience. But rereading it after becoming a father, I connected in a whole different bunch of ways. I feel like I’m more equipped to do it, but it’s a little scarier to put my greatest fears on screen. I’ve played so many fathers and now I want to see if I can get it right! Robert is a man of few words. Was that a challenge to convey? JOEL I discovered in the Covid lockdowns I was really comfortable being at home, not interacting with anyone other than my partner. I’d always defined myself as an extrovert, then I realised it was all smoke and mirrors to parade myself and play a character in public. I’m actually a bit of a hermit. If allowed to, I’d happily spend the whole day at home. Felicity, how did it feel to move from filming the four-hour epic The Brutalist to this more intimate and low-key film? FELICITY In a strange way, they’re similar in that they’re both exploring the American dream, but from very different angles. I think what’s so exciting at the moment is that audiences seem to want these really idiosyncratic, distinctive films. Your roles look quite physically demanding — was that intimidating at all? FELICITY Exploring the outdoor way of life was a big draw for me, and the physicality is a huge part of that. Gladys moves in a really direct way. She’s not overthinking everything like we do today when we’re in ten places in our heads all the time. She is wise but pragmatic. JOEL Growing up, I lived on the edge of a national park in Australia. I collected tadpoles, and I was always building weapons. Now I live a much more cerebral life – I was building a volcano kit for my kids the other day, and even following the instruction manual, I forgot a key stage. Does living among nature appeal to you? FELICITY There’s something about living in nature and realising how changeable everything is – you get hardened to the cycles of life and death on a daily basis. JOEL I like meeting rural people. You can almost tell straightaway, even if you meet them in the middle of the city – they’re capable, they don’t fuss, and they’re often blunt. Do you feel that there’s an environmental message about humanity’s impact on nature in this film? JOEL There is, but it’s quite gentle; this isn’t a film trying to push one message. We have to remind ourselves that, although we’re capable of pretending we’re the rulers of this world, we are just one of the animals on it. FELICITY We have a reciprocal relationship with nature, and we have to respect it, otherwise it will show us the destruction it can cause. After a cinema release, Train Dreams will be on Netflix — do you mind people dual-screening or even just watching it on their phones? JOEL I’ve even seen people dual-screening in the cinema – who dares do that? Dude in row D, seat 11: you’re dead to me! I hope that in the sanctuary of their homes, people will allow themselves to stay with the film from start to finish. FELICITY I believe in “best story wins”. If the story works, you don’t want to look at your phone. I feel that with this, it’s testament to the storytelling – you get hooked into these characters, you want to keep watching. The latest issue of Radio Times is out now – subscribe here. Train Dreams is released in cinemas on Friday 7th November 2025. Check out more of our Film coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
To mark VJ Day 80, Fiona Bruce focuses on some touching family treasures
Add Antiques Roadshow: VJ Day Special to your watchlist For Fiona Bruce, who is presenting an Antiques Roadshow VJ Day special on BBC1 (Sunday), the personal artefacts on display are “like a lightning bolt through to the past”. They include a baby shoe carried as a good luck charm by a soldier through the jungle, and a chess set made by a prisoner of war. It follows several AR war specials, including a VE Day edition in May. Why are these objects — belonging to the families of those who served in the Second World War — so poignant? As well as reminders of individual bravery, the items are often “humble and personal”, says Bruce. “When we think of conflict, it’s about hardware, death and destruction; you don’t think of a soldier carrying around one of his baby’s shoes in his ammunition pouch.” Soldier Jack Jennings made a chess set from balsa wood while a PoW on the Thai-Burma Railway (known as “the Death Railway”). “Somewhere in all the cruelty and starvation, someone was trying to reclaim some of their individuality and humanity,” says Bruce. “We know what desperate privations those men suffered.” She ends the programme with a moving message: “To all those who endured years of suffering and captivity, soldiers and civilians, and those who gave their lives — you are not forgotten.” It’s a powerful statement: “This is a period of the war many people know very little about. I hope this is our small way of paying tribute and sharing what we know about that time, so we don’t forget.” SHERNA NOAH Chindit bush hat, training manuals and medals Ernie Wainwright. Contributor: Anthony Wainwright (son) The Chindits (a unit of British, Indian, Nepalese and Burmese troops in the Burmese jungle) endured what’s been described as some of the most intensive hand-to-hand combat ever faced by the British military. A gruelling six months left Ernie Wainwright three stone lighter, toothless, and with typhus. Whenever his son Anthony asked about the war, Ernie would get out his bush hat — a sweat-stained memento more prized than any medal. “Dad was incredibly proud of the unit, and the hat had strong significance,” says Anthony. Ernie’s experiences had long-term effects, too. “He’d had to be very quiet in the jungle, so he crept around everywhere. He’d wake up at the click of a finger — if you overslept, the column would move on without you.” Baby shoes Stanley Spriggs. Contributor: James Spriggs (son) In pride of place in the family museum in James Spriggs’s shed, assembled after the death of his father Stanley in 2002, sits a pair of baby shoes — one significantly more discoloured than the other. James wasn’t even born when his dad went off to fight; while Stanley was waiting to go into Burma in 1944, his wife sent him one of their son’s shoes as a lucky charm. Miraculously intact, after surviving in an ammunitions bag through months of monsoons, the shoe was reunited with its partner when Stanley returned home in January 1946. This is James’s earliest memory: “I was three, in a dingy blacked-out station full of steam engines and soldiers, and suddenly told, ‘This is your dad’. I later saw in a family photo that he’d lost five stone due to malaria and, unlike me and my mum, he had a suntan.” Chess set Made by Jack Jennings. Contributors: Carol and Paul Barrett (daughter and son-in-law) Jack Jennings taught his daughter Carol to play chess using a set he’d crafted himself while he was a PoW in Thailand; their final game together was three years ago, when he was 102. “He loved to play — and he loved to win,” she says. But Jack was plagued by nightmares all his life and only began to confront his past after attending reunions and publishing his memoirs. “When my sister and I were growing up, he hid it all from us. We’d rifle through his drawers and read his wartime letters to Mum.” When Jack died at 104, he was believed to be the last surviving PoW who’d worked on the Thai- Burma Railway. The previous year, BBC News reported from his 103rd party. Carol says: “By then, he’d got a lot of pleasure from being a bit of a celebrity!” Rangoon gazette Thomas Ruddle. Contributors: Pete and Andy Ruddle (sons) When Pete and Andy Ruddle found a 1941 copy of the Rangoon Gazette among their late father Thomas’s belongings, they were struck by its bold declaration: “Japan at War with Britain & US”. Pete had it framed and hung it up. But the significance of its date, 8 December 1941 (one day after the attack on Pearl Harbor), eluded them until they brought it to Antiques Roadshow. Thomas was based in Burma with the RAF Signal Corps and, as far as the brothers can piece together, was a wireless operator. “He was a 19-year-old boy in the middle of the war, then he came back and carried on as if nothing had happened,” says Andy. “He never spoke about the war at all. I wish I’d been able to talk to him about it.” Japanese flag Walter Taylor. Contributor: Mark Taylor (son) On the advance into Burma and Mandalay, Walter Taylor, a gunner with the 19th Infantry Division — the “Dagger Division” — saw this Japanese flag tucked into the tunic of a dead soldier. Adorned with messages in Japanese by the village priest, including what are thought to be words of goodwill, to Walter the flag was poignant. After he returned to civilian life, it became “a vehicle to express his feelings about the war, which he wouldn’t otherwise easily divulge”, says his son Mark, who treasures an account his father wrote about his time in Burma for his family. Walter joined the Army at 17 and wrote that he had seen “man’s actions at their worst and best”, and said, “My profound hope is that in your lifetime you may never know total war." Interviews by ROBIN PARKER
If you thought raising kids was tricky, spare a thought for the mother eaten by her own spiderlings…
Add Parenthood to your watchlist Babies are often the stars of natural history programmes, leaving their parents as bystanders. But the mums and dads of the animal kingdom finally have their moment in the spotlight in a new BBC series. Looking at how different creatures, from insects to big cats and great apes, nurture their young – or, in some cases, don’t – and the brutal sacrifices they have to make, Parenthood casts an eye over family units across land and sea in 23 countries. “The world is changing incredibly fast and it’s making a parent’s job increasingly challenging, both for humans and animals, who have so many different ways of doing it,” says the series executive producer Keith Scholey. Fittingly, his own son Olly, who’s also an experienced wildlife film-maker, produced and directed the episode focusing on ocean creatures. Scholey’s collaborations with Sir David Attenborough over the past 42 years have created some of TV’s most beloved programmes, and Parenthood expands on themes previously touched on in 1990’s The Trials of Life. Sir David is our guide in voice only for this series and Scholey still marvels at his deceptively simple scripts. “He’s leaps and bounds ahead of other narration writers, and he pores over every word a long way in advance,” Scholey says. “He’s so precise and, behind that simple style, he’s really animated in the voice booth, bringing out every phrase and emphasis in a brilliant way.” As we’ve come to expect, man’s activities and their impact on habitats, food and the wider environment are never far from the surface. But for Scholey, there’s one truth that dictates how animals raise their young: “The chances of survival of not only an individual animal’s family, but also their species, depends on how well their parenting strategy works.” HANUMAN LANGURS Jodhpur, India “You often think that every parent of a species will be landed with the same tasks, but this isn’t true of langurs, who live in a hierarchy. Who you are born to really matters in this monkey troop. If you’re born into royalty, there will be a lot of other langurs who can help out, but if you’re low down and stay that way, your baby will inevitably starve and die. These monkeys evolved into a strict order of dominance with a head [of the hierarchy] and royalty. We filmed a female lower down the food chain who has a baby and has to try and climb the ladder, or at least work as a more lowly langur and try to rise up.” – Keith Scholey KILLER WHALES Bremer Bay, Australia “Killer whales have unquestionably the most impressive parenting strategy of any ocean creature. They live in a matriarchal society led by the grandmother, who’s the most experienced hunter, and they have been proven to be able to teach one another. We saw a glimpse of this when we saw a mass of them thrashing around and thought it was a hunt — but a drone camera filming overhead revealed there was no prey. Instead, one killer whale was in the middle and the others were practising hunting it. We also capture for the first time a group of them hunting a blue whale — a seemingly impossible feat of predation, but one achieved by their ability to teach and strategise how to take down big prey.” – Olly Scholey CAPE GANNET AND CHICK Malgas Island, South Africa “Once common across South Africa, cape gannets are now an endangered species. Their main food source — sardines and anchovies — are also disappearing due to over-fishing, so they’ve taken to scavenging hake from trawlers, which can give an adult all the food it needs but doesn’t have enough nutrients for a chick. We came across a spectacular scene where the adults find a big ball of sardines that has been used for bait, and fed on by dolphins, sharks and other marine creatures. Once the chicks are ready to leave the island to live their own lives, they first have to run a gauntlet of cape fur seals who hunt the fledglings in huge waves. These seals also feed on the dwindling sardine supply — and will take down the chicks just to get at the food that’s inside them.” – Olly Scholey AFRICAN SOCIAL SPIDER Namibia “This is the one that’s going to be fast-tracked to Gogglebox! It’s a scene simultaneously of horror and awe: more than a thousand newborn spiderlings, who are born with the ability to hunt as a pack, kill and eat their mother and then go after other adults in the colony one by one. What I find amazing, though, is that they approach her in a synchronised movement — they move forward and then they all freeze to listen out for the vibrations of the mother’s final struggle, which mimics the vibrations of their insect prey. I’m glad humans haven’t adopted this strategy!” – Keith Scholey BOTTLENOSE DOLPHINS Indonesian Coral Reef “A bottlenose dolphin calf will usually stay with its mum for three years, learning from her and other dolphin adults that she socialises with. We watched one mum demonstrating how to play a game where you pick up a piece of coral, balance it on your nose and swim up to the surface, before dropping it and racing back to catch it just before it hits the bottom of the sea. We’re not sure exactly why they play it, but it’s clear that it’s essential to this particular group and it has specific rules. We watched this calf do it repeatedly, then decide it’d rather have fun on the surface — it swims off and drops the rock while doing cartwheels. All the while, mum’s watching it, clearly asking it to play the game properly.” – Olly Scholey LIONS AND CUBS Botswana “What lions go through to raise a cub is really counterintuitive to us: they have to risk their life every day. We filmed a pride that specialised in hunting buffalo, which are great because they provide a lot of food, but are hugely risky to attack. There is a very moving scene of a pride’s reaction after their mother is gored and dies. For some big cats, like cheetahs, once mum’s gone, everybody’s done for, but lions have a social structure where other lionesses will suckle the cubs and they’ll get absorbed into this bigger family. Their social parenting structure is very effective.” – Keith Scholey
The Bookish actor loves reading — and watching TV with her dog
Add Bookish to your watchlist What’s the view from your sofa? We’ve got a big telly and a big sofa. I like to lie down on it when I watch TV, generally with my dog or my husband [actor Laurence Penry-Jones]. What programmes do you like to watch? I was brought up not to turn on the TV until after 6pm because you had to be productive in the day. We’ll watch all the dramas everyone’s talking about, like The White Lotus, but left to my own devices, I like documentaries, most recently a fascinating one about the Titan submersible disaster. I’m tempted – especially when I’m away filming – to get ahead of Laurence on series, but generally I wait. It’s more fun watching with other people. When you’re watching murder mysteries, do you always try to guess whodunnit? Yes, I always think I know, and I make a big statement about my suspicions at the beginning. I’ve read so many scripts that I know the formula at some level. My hit rate’s about 50/50! Did you try to solve the case when you read the scripts for Bookish? Not at all! I read them initially as a story, with an eye on the character, and I really enjoyed it. Mark Gatiss’s writing is clever, like him, and it’s tight, fast, funny and astute. He’s got a great eye for the absurd. I asked Laurence to read it to give his take on it, but he stopped after ten pages and went, “I don’t want to ruin it for myself.” View Green Video on the source website Gabriel Book [Mark Gatiss] and your character Trottie are in a “lavender marriage” of convenience — he’s gay at a time when it was illegal. What do you make of their relationship? It’s unconventional, but as she says, it works. It’s mutually beneficial, supportive and based on genuine friendship and love between two people who’ve known each other since they were kids. It protects them both. There are a lot of sexless marriages, and I just see it like that: she’s open, non-judgemental, and wants him to be happy. He wants that for her, too, and doesn’t give her a hard time about what she gets up to. Bookish is set in the immediate aftermath of the Second World War. Did you know much about the period? No, I wasn’t taught about it at school – I don’t know if I even passed my history GCSE! But I became obsessed with documentaries about the Nuremberg trials and it brought home to me the seriousness of it all. It was a remarkable time. Men came back incredibly damaged by the war, the women had been on their own for years, having had all these amazing jobs, and had to go back into the housewife role. Some of them said the war was the time of their lives. But there had to be a basis within Trottie of how serious it was, and that’s why she embraces colour, going out, getting drunk, having boyfriends… Books play a central role in the drama. Are you a book lover? Yes, but I’m not a great reader. I was always jealous of those kids who’d read all of The Lord of the Rings, aged ten, when I was reading the Mandy annual. I have a lot of books by the side of the bed – at the top of the pile is The Light Years by Elizabeth Jane Howard. I also buy a lot of cookery books. You also appear in Bridgerton — has its huge success helped you get the pick of the best roles? Bridgerton’s definitely made things easier, but I try not to engage too much with the politics of being an actor. My family and my life at home is just as important to me, if not more.
Bookish star Polly Walker on show’s 'lavender marriage': "There are a lot of sexless marriages"
The Bookish actor loves reading — and watching TV with her dog.
This article first appeared in Radio Times magazine. What’s the view from your sofa? We’ve got a big telly and a big sofa. I like to lie down on it when I watch TV, generally with my dog or my husband [actor Laurence Penry-Jones]. What programmes do you like to watch? I was brought up not to turn on the TV until after 6pm because you had to be productive in the day. We’ll watch all the dramas everyone’s talking about, like The White Lotus, but left to my own devices, I like documentaries, most recently a fascinating one about the Titan submersible disaster. I’m tempted – especially when I’m away filming –to get ahead of Laurence on series, but generally I wait. It’s more fun watching with other people. When you’re watching murder mysteries, do you always try to guess whodunnit? Yes, I always think I know, and I make a big statement about my suspicions at the beginning. I’ve read so many scripts that I know the formula at some level. My hit rate’s about 50/50! Did you try to solve the case when you read the scripts for Bookish? Not at all! I read them initially as a story, with an eye on the character, and I really enjoyed it. Mark Gatiss’s writing is clever, like him, and it’s tight, fast, funny and astute. He’s got a great eye for the absurd. I asked Laurence to read it to give his take on it, but he stopped after ten pages and went, “I don’t want to ruin it for myself.” Gabriel Book [Mark Gatiss] and your character Trottie are in a “lavender marriage” of convenience – he’s gay at a time when it was illegal. What do you make of their relationship? It’s unconventional, but as she says, it works. It’s mutually beneficial, supportive and based on genuine friendship and love between two people who’ve known each other since they were kids. It protects them both. There are a lot of sexless marriages, and I just see it like that: she’s open, non-judgemental, and wants him to be happy. He wants that for her, too, and doesn’t give her a hard time about what she gets up to. Bookish is set in the immediate aftermath of the Second World War. Did you know much about the period? No, I wasn’t taught about it at school – I don’t know if I even passed my history GCSE! But I became obsessed with documentaries about the Nuremberg trials and it brought home to me the seriousness of it all. It was a remarkable time. Men came back incredibly damaged by the war, the women had been on their own for years, having had all these amazing jobs, and had to go back into the housewife role. Some of them said the war was the time of their lives. But there had to be a basis within Trottie of how serious it was, and that’s why she embraces colour, going out, getting drunk, having boyfriends… Books play a central role in the drama. Are you a book lover? Yes, but I’m not a great reader. I was always jealous of those kids who’d read all of The Lord of the Rings, aged ten, when I was reading the Mandy annual. I have a lot of books by the side of the bed – at the top of the pile is The Light Years by Elizabeth Jane Howard. I also buy a lot of cookery books. You also appear in Bridgerton – has its huge success helped you get the pick of the best roles? Bridgerton’s definitely made things easier, but I try not to engage too much with the politics of being an actor. My family and my life at home is just as important to me, if not more. The latest issue of Radio Times is out now – subscribe here. Check out more of our Drama coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
Crime fiction and screen adaptations have long gone hand in hand, from Slow Horses to Karen Pirie – now Mark Gatiss and Matthew Sweet are flipping the script and turning their new murder mystery, Bookish, into a novel
Add Bookish to your watchlist As a lifelong devotee of murder mysteries – and a screenwriter for acclaimed Agatha Christie and Arthur Conan Doyle adaptations – Mark Gatiss knows all too well that every detective needs to have their quirk, their schtick, a secret weapon that’s key to their sleuthing skills. And for his new crime-solving creation, it wasn’t a stretch for the writer and actor to settle on books. From Beatrix Potter to his favourite pulp fiction, a literary reference is never far from his grasp. View Green Video on the source website Gatiss presents Bookish, a series that follows Gabriel Book, a man who runs a bookshop – a trove of knowledge that he can call upon to crack the crimes that are stumping the local police. The character of Book sprung from an idea that had been buzzing around the Sherlock writer’s brain for eight years: a gay detective hiding his sexuality in a “lavender marriage” of convenience to Trottie (Polly Walker) in the late 1940s. After an aborted attempt at a novel, Gatiss bashed out a script during lockdown. And curiously, RT plays a small role here. When producer Walter Iuzzolino told Gatiss at the 2022 Radio Times covers party that he was looking for a period detective drama for his production company Eagle Eye, things quickly kicked into gear: cameras rolled last summer with contemporary Antwerp doubling for post-war London and a second series has been commissioned before the first has even aired. Gatiss’s partner in crime on Bookish is writer, historian and broadcaster Matthew Sweet, whom he met at the launch of the rebooted Doctor Who in 2005. The pair quickly bonded over a shared love of Victoriana, crime fiction and classic movies, and now Sweet is performing an unusual task for this new collaboration – as well as writing on the new series, he’s turning the murder mysteries back into novels, as Gatiss had originally intended. A reverse adaptation? Not exactly by the book… A LIFE OF CRIME MARK GATISS Murder mysteries are going through a purple patch. They’ve always been popular, but suddenly they’re everywhere. For me, it began by reading a lot of Agatha Christie on holiday as a kid. I remember picking up Curtain: Poirot’s Last Case, from a newsagent in 1975. I knew very little about it, but I knew it was important. The cover – a bowler hat and an umbrella – felt like a statement. MATTHEW SWEET The cover of N or M? with a bloody telephone receiver really worried me. I thought of it every time I picked up the phone. MARK I’ve got a lot of the Christie paperbacks framed on my toilet wall. They’re great pop art. They’re so strange – The Murder at the Vicarage riffs on [Belgian surrealist artist] Magritte: a man in a dog collar with a tennis racket for a head rather than an apple. It’s creepy as hell. MATTHEW The TV adaptations were very important, too. The BBC’s Miss Marple series with Joan Hickson treated Christie with the same deference as Brideshead Revisited. Christie understood class better than her contemporaries, some of whom perhaps were too comfortable, or too barmy. MARK In its quintessential form, the British detective story combines the joy of crosswords with the puzzle of a dead body. But they offer lot of different pleasures. One of my favourites is The Beast Must Die by Cecil Day-Lewis, writing as Nicholas Blake: the first half is from the point of view of a man trying to track down the hit and run driver who killed his child. When the detective finally comes in and it becomes more of a whodunnit, it’s a bit disappointing… MATTHEW The detective is a good observer of the world around them – even if the plot doesn’t make sense. A really good description of the inside of a tobacconists in 1926 will do it for me. It puts you into that world, and that can be pleasure enough. MARK I collect Golden Age murder mysteries with the most boring titles. They’re so charming! Murder in Hospital… He Could Not Have Slipped…and the best one: They Rang Up the Police. A friend sent me a photo from his holiday cottage of Case for Sergeant Beef. I said: steal it! THE RULES OF THE GAME MARK John Dickson Carr, master of the “locked room” mystery, had a wonderful phrase: “Blood on the bandage”. He will put a big clue followed immediately by an act of extreme violence, which hides it. Isn’t that great? The trick is to present clues that play fair, without being too obvious. At the cast screening of Bookish, I found myself watching an innocent character thinking, “he looks suspicious…” You’ve sweat blood writing it, worrying it’s too obvious, then you realise there’s a red herring that you didn’t even realise was a red herring. MATTHEW The characters don’t change, but because they all have well-defined motivations, they don’t always react in the way you thought they would. You can fight against it, but the story demands it, moves in another direction. MARK Genuinely, the murderer does change as you write it. You can plot it and stress test it all you like, but once you start, you realise it makes no sense. You can change it quite a lot. MATTHEW It’s a machine with complicated moving parts. Like a mechanic, when you remove a component, you think, “Well, that’s going to create a funny knocking noise in the back now”. You might have to address that problem elsewhere. MARK You also have to accept you’ll be leaning into cliché. Episode six has a big denouement in a hotel. Book says, “I’m not usually a fan of this sort of thing, it’s redolent of the kind of thriller you find in WHSmith.” THE PERFECT MURDER MATTHEW After working on this, we both know a lot more about poisons – what leeway you’ve got, how quickly they act. You realise the liberties writers have taken! And how many murders, that’s an important question… MARK If the story propels you along, you don’t need multiple murders, but equally, you can totally embrace that depending on the style of the episode. MATTHEW There’s a kind of rhythm, a music to a murder. MARK Music to a Murder – there’s a good title! It’s always a balance between the puzzle and reality. As a reader or viewer, you accept the rules: Poirot turns up, there’s a murder, he solves it. As a writer, you have to accept you’re working within the genre’s trappings. Otherwise, you start to ask: why are there so many murders in Midsomer county? Is Marple cursed? Arcadia Lane and Book’s shop is our precinct, but you can’t have a murder in every shop, otherwise it’s death row. Another good title! I had this idea that the shopkeepers would all be famous people like in Murder on the Orient Express, but we couldn’t afford that… A DANGEROUS WORLD MARK I wanted to explore a gay detective in a lavender marriage. We talked a lot on Doctor Who about how you mustn’t put your 21st century goggles on the past and judge people. Book and Trottie get married for mutual convenience – as a lot of people did. In a lot of lavender marriages, both people were gay, but Trottie is a liberated woman who’s had an extraordinary war. They’re devoted to each other, as a lot of those couples were. But it’s not a world of easy answers, nor should it be. MATTHEW It’s a world of liars! People coming back from war and perhaps not being totally truthful about what they did during it. MARK It’s a double life in the context of this swirling world of crime, an era that’s often brushed aside as a time of drab austerity. It was radical: the world’s upside down, there are the foundations of the welfare state, and a lot of people who don’t know where they fit any more. When his authority is questioned, Book whips out his “letter from Churchill” – which is absolutely, explicitly Doctor Who’s “psychic paper”! I hate it when plots get bogged down in bureaucracy: if your detective isn’t a police officer, you’ve got to have an excuse, but the easier you can make it, the better. A LIFE LESS COSY MARK “Cosy crime” is a bit pejorative, isn’t it? It brings to mind being spoon-fed. I want Bookish to be the sort of thing you want to watch on a Sunday night, but that doesn’t mean bland and inoffensive. It wears the costume of golden detective fiction but it’s not a pastiche. It tackles issues that remain relevant. MATTHEW To me, “cosy crime” means recoiling from a different sort of crime writing, that all happens in blue light with psychopaths, sadists and the destruction of bodies, which does nothing for me. Perhaps audiences are turning away from that. MARK You have to acknowledge the reason why we’re here – that “bank holiday-ness”. Peter Ustinov’s Poirot films are more camp than Orient Express, but the plots remain very dark. You don’t want to feel you’re watching some actors on holiday. We’ve ended up with some quite sad motives for the crimes. BROUGHT TO BOOK MATTHEW Writing the tie-in novel, I put back in the shots that were too expensive to film! MARK It’s like you’ve written another draft – there are things we definitely should have done in the show but didn’t have time. MATTHEW I’ve imagined these books being written in the early 60s by Nora, a young woman who’s established in the series as the crime fiction fan. She’s writing them up as crime novellas that she’s adapting for the movies. So you’re still in the world and the story, but there’s a reason for them to exist. MARK It’s in the tradition of the Reminiscences of John H Watson (part one of the first Sherlock Holmes book A Study in Scarlet). Nora says this isn’t exactly what happened, it’s how she’s remembers it. Some characters may be invented. MATTHEW Books are so important in the series, and she makes it into a book. The story has acquired a history and a bit of dust. My fantasy is that in many years’ time, the TV series will conclude with a flash-forward to the 60s, with Nora doing a signing of these books of all the stories you’ve been watching. MARK It would be odd, given the show, if there wasn’t a tie-in book! It’s a pleasing artefact. It feels like it should be in Book’s shop! Bookish begins on U&Alibi on Wednesday 16 July, and Matthew Sweet’s tie-in novel (which is also called Bookish) is on sale from Thursday 17 July
Mark Gatiss reveals how his new series Bookish is “explicitly” inspired by Doctor Who
Crime fiction and screen adaptations have long gone hand in hand, from Slow Horses to Karen Pirie – now Mark Gatiss and Matthew Sweet are flipping the script and turning their new murder mystery, Bookish, into a novel.
This article first appeared in Radio Times magazine. As a lifelong devotee of murder mysteries – and a screenwriter for acclaimed Agatha Christie and Arthur Conan Doyle adaptations – Mark Gatiss knows all too well that every detective needs to have their quirk, their schtick, a secret weapon that’s key to their sleuthing skills. And for his new crime-solving creation, it wasn’t a stretch for the writer and actor to settle on books. From Beatrix Potter to his favourite pulp fiction, a literary reference is never far from his grasp. Gatiss presents Bookish, a series that follows Gabriel Book, a man who runs a bookshop – a trove of knowledge that he can call upon to crack the crimes that are stumping the local police. The character of Book sprung from an idea that had been buzzing around the Sherlock writer’s brain for eight years: a gay detective hiding his sexuality in a “lavender marriage” of convenience to Trottie (Polly Walker) in the late 1940s. After an aborted attempt at a novel, Gatiss bashed out a script during lockdown. And curiously, RT plays a small role here. When producer Walter Iuzzolino told Gatiss at the 2022 Radio Times covers party that he was looking for a period detective drama for his production company Eagle Eye, things quickly kicked into gear: cameras rolled last summer with contemporary Antwerp doubling for post-war London and a second series has been commissioned before the first has even aired. Gatiss’s partner in crime on Bookish is writer, historian and broadcaster Matthew Sweet, whom he met at the launch of the rebooted Doctor Who in 2005. The pair quickly bonded over a shared love of Victoriana, crime fiction and classic movies, and now Sweet is performing an unusual task for this new collaboration – as well as writing on the new series, he’s turning the murder mysteries back into novels, as Gatiss had originally intended. A reverse adaptation? Not exactly by the book… A LIFE OF CRIME Mark Gatiss: Murder mysteries are going through a purple patch. They’ve always been popular, but suddenly they’re everywhere. For me, it began by reading a lot of Agatha Christie on holiday as a kid. I remember picking up Curtain: Poirot’s Last Case, from a newsagent in 1975. I knew very little about it, but I knew it was important. The cover – a bowler hat and an umbrella – felt like a statement. Matthew Sweet: The cover of N or M? with a bloody telephone receiver really worried me. I thought of it every time I picked up the phone. Mark: I’ve got a lot of the Christie paperbacks framed on my toilet wall. They’re great pop art. They’re so strange – The Murder at the Vicarage riffs on [Belgian surrealist artist] Magritte: a man in a dog collar with a tennis racket for a head rather than an apple. It’s creepy as hell. Matthew: The TV adaptations were very important, too. The BBC’s Miss Marple series with Joan Hickson treated Christie with the same deference as Brideshead Revisited. Christie understood class better than her contemporaries, some of whom perhaps were too comfortable, or too barmy. Mark: In its quintessential form, the British detective story combines the joy of crosswords with the puzzle of a dead body. But they offer lot of different pleasures. One of my favourites is The Beast Must Die by Cecil Day-Lewis, writing as Nicholas Blake: the first half is from the point of view of a man trying to track down the hit and run driver who killed his child. When the detective finally comes in and it becomes more of a whodunnit, it’s a bit disappointing… Matthew: The detective is a good observer of the world around them – even if the plot doesn’t make sense. A really good description of the inside of a tobacconists in 1926 will do it for me. It puts you into that world, and that can be pleasure enough. Mark: I collect Golden Age murder mysteries with the most boring titles. They’re so charming! Murder in Hospital… He Could Not Have Slipped…and the best one: They Rang Up the Police. A friend sent me a photo from his holiday cottage of Case for Sergeant Beef. I said: steal it! THE RULES OF THE GAME Mark: John Dickson Carr, master of the “locked room” mystery, had a wonderful phrase: “Blood on the bandage”. He will put a big clue followed immediately by an act of extreme violence, which hides it. Isn’t that great? The trick is to present clues that play fair, without being too obvious. At the cast screening of Bookish, I found myself watching an innocent character thinking, “he looks suspicious…” You’ve sweat blood writing it, worrying it’s too obvious, then you realise there’s a red herring that you didn’t even realise was a red herring. Matthew: The characters don’t change, but because they all have well-defined motivations, they don’t always react in the way you thought they would. You can fight against it, but the story demands it, moves in another direction. Mark: Genuinely, the murderer does change as you write it. You can plot it and stress test it all you like, but once you start, you realise it makes no sense. You can change it quite a lot. Matthew: It’s a machine with complicated moving parts. Like a mechanic, when you remove a component, you think, “Well, that’s going to create a funny knocking noise in the back now”. You might have to address that problem elsewhere. Mark: You also have to accept you’ll be leaning into cliché. Episode six has a big denouement in a hotel. Book says, “I’m not usually a fan of this sort of thing, it’s redolent of the kind of thriller you find in WHSmith.” THE PERFECT MURDER Matthew: After working on this, we both know a lot more about poisons – what leeway you’ve got, how quickly they act. You realise the liberties writers have taken! And how many murders, that’s an important question… Mark: If the story propels you along, you don’t need multiple murders, but equally, you can totally embrace that depending on the style of the episode. Matthew: There’s a kind of rhythm, a music to a murder. Mark: Music to a Murder – there’s a good title! It’s always a balance between the puzzle and reality. As a reader or viewer, you accept the rules: Poirot turns up, there’s a murder, he solves it. As a writer, you have to accept you’re working within the genre’s trappings. Otherwise, you start to ask: why are there so many murders in Midsomer county? Is Marple cursed? Arcadia Lane and Book’s shop is our precinct, but you can’t have a murder in every shop, otherwise it’s death row. Another good title! I had this idea that the shopkeepers would all be famous people like in Murder on the Orient Express, but we couldn’t afford that… A DANGEROUS WORLD Mark: I wanted to explore a gay detective in a lavender marriage. We talked a lot on Doctor Who about how you mustn’t put your 21st century goggles on the past and judge people. Book and Trottie get married for mutual convenience – as a lot of people did. In a lot of lavender marriages, both people were gay, but Trottie is a liberated woman who’s had an extraordinary war. They’re devoted to each other, as a lot of those couples were. But it’s not a world of easy answers, nor should it be. Matthew: It’s a world of liars! People coming back from war and perhaps not being totally truthful about what they did during it. Mark: It’s a double life in the context of this swirling world of crime, an era that’s often brushed aside as a time of drab austerity. It was radical: the world’s upside down, there are the foundations of the welfare state, and a lot of people who don’t know where they fit any more. When his authority is questioned, Book whips out his “letter from Churchill” – which is absolutely, explicitly Doctor Who’s “psychic paper”! I hate it when plots get bogged down in bureaucracy: if your detective isn’t a police officer, you’ve got to have an excuse, but the easier you can make it, the better. A LIFE LESS COSY Mark: “Cosy crime” is a bit pejorative, isn’t it? It brings to mind being spoon-fed. I want Bookish to be the sort of thing you want to watch on a Sunday night, but that doesn’t mean bland and inoffensive. It wears the costume of golden detective fiction but it’s not a pastiche. It tackles issues that remain relevant. Matthew: To me, “cosy crime” means recoiling from a different sort of crime writing, that all happens in blue light with psychopaths, sadists and the destruction of bodies, which does nothing for me. Perhaps audiences are turning away from that. Mark: You have to acknowledge the reason why we’re here – that “bank holiday-ness”. Peter Ustinov’s Poirot films are more camp than Orient Express, but the plots remain very dark. You don’t want to feel you’re watching some actors on holiday. We’ve ended up with some quite sad motives for the crimes. BROUGHT TO BOOK Matthew: Writing the tie-in novel, I put back in the shots that were too expensive to film! Mark: It’s like you’ve written another draft – there are things we definitely should have done in the show but didn’t have time. Matthew: I’ve imagined these books being written in the early 60s by Nora, a young woman who’s established in the series as the crime fiction fan. She’s writing them up as crime novellas that she’s adapting for the movies. So you’re still in the world and the story, but there’s a reason for them to exist. Mark: It’s in the tradition of the Reminiscences of John H Watson (part one of the first Sherlock Holmes book A Study in Scarlet). Nora says this isn’t exactly what happened, it’s how she’s remembers it. Some characters may be invented. Matthew: Books are so important in the series, and she makes it into a book. The story has acquired a history and a bit of dust. My fantasy is that in many years’ time, the TV series will conclude with a flash-forward to the 60s, with Nora doing a signing of these books of all the stories you’ve been watching. Mark: It would be odd, given the show, if there wasn’t a tie-in book! It’s a pleasing artefact. It feels like it should be in Book’s shop! Photography – Adam Lawrence @adamlawrencephotographer Grooming – Rebecca Richards @rebeccarichardsmakeup The latest issue of Radio Times is out now – subscribe here. Bookish begins on U&Alibi on Wednesday 16th July at 8pm. Add Bookish to your watchlist on the Radio Times: What to Watch app – download now for daily TV recommendations, features and more. Check out more of our Entertainment coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what else is on. For more from the biggest stars in TV, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
He’s a big cheese in Hollywood now, but making his dream roles a reality has taken patience and faith
Add Government Cheese to your watchlist From Martin Luther King to Coriolanus and gunslinger Bass Reeves, 49-year-old Brit David Oyelowo has become synonymous with some pretty tough dramatic parts on stage and screen. So, his latest role, in Apple TV+’s quirky comedy drama Government Cheese, marks a significant gear change. He plays Hampton Chambers, a family man in the late 1960s, who’s done time in prison for forging cheques but is now determined to go straight, chasing the American dream with his invention — a self-sharpening drill. It’s a deadpan, bizarre story that Oyelowo says is unlike anything he’s done before… Government Cheese is lighter in tone than we often see from you. Was that a conscious decision? Many of the projects I’ve worked on deal with the racial struggle or civil rights. All of that is very much part of what it is to be African- American in America, but that’s not the totality of the experience. Given how much the 1960s were steeped in civil rights, it felt almost radical to put a black family at the centre of a comedy set in that time without bogging it down with those elements. It’s an unusual show in its mix of genres and styles. How would you describe it? It’s a parabolic, surrealist family comedy. I don’t know many shows you could describe as that! It has a whimsical, romantic nostalgia. It might not be for everyone in terms of how it changes gears, but for me, it’s a pretty honest way to look at things that may have occurred in the past. How did you get on board? In 2018, [co-creator] Paul Hunter approached me with the idea for a short film. I’m basically playing a version of Paul’s father. It felt unique, fresh and surreal – I hadn’t read anything quite like it. We shot it for four days in Paul’s mother’s house and felt there was more we could do with it. A TV show felt like the natural progression. What do you think Paul’s family and friends thought of immortalising this period? Paul’s mother was very enamoured with the process, and proud of Paul, who’s been trying to make this for a long time. The production design is very evocative of life in California’s San Fernando Valley back then, and when Paul’s friends visited the set – some of whom appear in the series played by actors – they all felt like they’d stepped into a time machine. You also get to wear some sharp 60s suits. Did you enjoy that? We wanted to tip the hat to folks who have a sense of aspiration but not much by way of resources. Hampton only has two suits, but you still feel he’s a bit of a dandy. You see this a lot with immigrants: they’ll have two or three outfits and they’re good at mixing it up. That’s where the title comes from. Government Cheese? How do you mean? Government cheese is government-subsidised food that’s quite basic, but people would turn it into these amazing grilled cheese sandwiches or macaroni cheese, and these became beloved dishes. It symbolises making something out of nothing. Hampton looks for assurance from God that he’s forging a righteous path. Did you relate to that? Faith is a huge part of my life, but what I like about this is that it’s not proselytising – almost everyone can relate to having a difficult circumstance and wanting a sign they’re on the right track. Hampton has his epiphany after starting a conversation with God, but that doesn’t mean his day-to-day or spiritual challenges go away. As an actor, can you relate to that idea of pushing for a project, hanging on to a dream? Enormously! Many of my projects have required immense tenacity to get them made. I literally felt a spiritual calling to play Martin Luther King, but the initial director of Selma rejected me. Then, seven years later, I brought on the director who eventually made it [Ava DuVernay]. Lawman: Bass Reeves took nine years. This was a six-year journey. I’ve definitely been guilty of trying to force something when it’s not the right time. My own faith has been a huge component in helping me let go when it’s the healthy thing to do. It must be nice shooting this so close to your own LA home. How important is it for you to be near your family when working? I’d just spent six months in Texas doing Bass Reeves. I told Apple: these are the circumstances under which I can and will do it. Two of my kids are still quite young, and I know that too much time away is not healthy. Often things are filmed somewhere that’s advantageous for tax breaks. But as it was set where I live, there was an excuse to take that position. We see the difficulties Hampton faces in slotting back into his children’s lives after his stint in prison. As a father of four — what do you think of him as a parent? I find him incredibly relatable – he might be equal parts selfish and selfless, but he’s not been absent or irresponsible by choice. He’s trying to do the right thing – and failing consistently. I don’t know a father for whom that is not the case. Certainly, that’s been my experience! New episodes of Government Cheese are released on Wednesdays on Apple TV+
David Oyelowo felt a calling to play Martin Luther King – but Selma's original director rejected him
The actor speaks to Radio Times magazine about his role in Apple TV+ comedy series Government Cheese.
This article first appeared in Radio Times magazine. From Martin Luther King to Coriolanus and gunslinger Bass Reeves, 49-year-old Brit David Oyelowo has become synonymous with some pretty tough dramatic parts on stage and screen. So, his latest role, in Apple TV+’s quirky comedy drama Government Cheese, marks a significant gear change. He plays Hampton Chambers, a family man in the late 1960s, who’s done time in prison for forging cheques but is now determined to go straight, chasing the American dream with his invention — a self-sharpening drill. It’s a deadpan, bizarre story that Oyelowo says is unlike anything he’s done before… Government Cheese is lighter in tone than we often see from you. Was that a conscious decision? Many of the projects I’ve worked on deal with the racial struggle or civil rights. All of that is very much part of what it is to be African- American in America, but that’s not the totality of the experience. Given how much the 1960s were steeped in civil rights, it felt almost radical to put a black family at the centre of a comedy set in that time without bogging it down with those elements. It’s an unusual show in its mix of genres and styles. How would you describe it? It’s a parabolic, surrealist family comedy. I don’t know many shows you could describe as that! It has a whimsical, romantic nostalgia. It might not be for everyone in terms of how it changes gears, but for me, it’s a pretty honest way to look at things that may have occurred in the past. How did you get on board? In 2018, [co-creator] Paul Hunter approached me with the idea for a short film. I’m basically playing a version of Paul’s father. It felt unique, fresh and surreal – I hadn’t read anything quite like it. We shot it for four days in Paul’s mother’s house and felt there was more we could do with it. A TV show felt like the natural progression. What do you think Paul’s family and friends thought of immortalising this period? Paul’s mother was very enamoured with the process, and proud of Paul, who’s been trying to make this for a long time. The production design is very evocative of life in California’s San Fernando Valley back then, and when Paul’s friends visited the set – some of whom appear in the series played by actors – they all felt like they’d stepped into a time machine. You also get to wear some sharp '60s suits. Did you enjoy that? We wanted to tip the hat to folks who have a sense of aspiration but not much by way of resources. Hampton only has two suits, but you still feel he’s a bit of a dandy. You see this a lot with immigrants: they’ll have two or three outfits and they’re good at mixing it up. That’s where the title comes from. Government Cheese? How do you mean? Government cheese is government-subsidised food that’s quite basic, but people would turn it into these amazing grilled cheese sandwiches or macaroni cheese, and these became beloved dishes. It symbolises making something out of nothing. Hampton looks for assurance from God that he’s forging a righteous path. Did you relate to that? Faith is a huge part of my life, but what I like about this is that it’s not proselytising – almost everyone can relate to having a difficult circumstance and wanting a sign they’re on the right track. Hampton has his epiphany after starting a conversation with God, but that doesn’t mean his day-to-day or spiritual challenges go away. As an actor, can you relate to that idea of pushing for a project, hanging on to a dream? Enormously! Many of my projects have required immense tenacity to get them made. I literally felt a spiritual calling to play Martin Luther King, but the initial director of Selma rejected me. Then, seven years later, I brought on the director who eventually made it [Ava DuVernay]. Lawman: Bass Reeves took nine years. This was a six-year journey. I’ve definitely been guilty of trying to force something when it’s not the right time. My own faith has been a huge component in helping me let go when it’s the healthy thing to do. It must be nice shooting this so close to your own LA home. How important is it for you to be near your family when working? I’d just spent six months in Texas doing Bass Reeves. I told Apple: these are the circumstances under which I can and will do it. Two of my kids are still quite young, and I know that too much time away is not healthy. Often things are filmed somewhere that’s advantageous for tax breaks. But as it was set where I live, there was an excuse to take that position. We see the difficulties Hampton faces in slotting back into his children’s lives after his stint in prison. As a father of four — what do you think of him as a parent? I find him incredibly relatable – he might be equal parts selfish and selfless, but he’s not been absent or irresponsible by choice. He’s trying to do the right thing – and failing consistently. I don’t know a father for whom that is not the case. Certainly, that’s been my experience! The latest issue of Radio Times is out now – subscribe here. Government Cheese is streaming on Apple TV+. Check out more of our Drama coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more from the biggest stars in TV, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
Chris Packham: 'The vile suggestion that ADHD is a fad needs countering in this time of division'
Inside our ADHD Minds comes to BBC Two next week.
This article first appeared in Radio Times magazine. For nearly two years, on an almost daily basis, strangers have politely stopped me to say, "Thank you". The focus of their quiet but almost boundless gratitude was, and still is, the two-part BBC2 series Inside Our Minds from 2023, which gave viewers a greater insight into the daily lived experience of autistic people. Whether I'm on the train or in an art gallery, I'm told by everyone from teenagers to grandparents that the series gave them a better understanding of themselves, or one of their relatives or colleagues, to the extent that it precipitated diagnoses, positive changes in their lives or a better societal understanding of the condition. Healthcare professionals frequently assert that the programmes have become an invaluable asset in their work because they articulate, in real terms, things that otherwise have been so difficult to see, describe or feel. So, although we still struggle to be heard and understood, I think the programmes made a difference to the autistic community. Applying the format – in which contributors work with film-makers, designers and animators to bring their internal worlds to life – to other neurodiverse conditions was the logical next step. As someone who once hid my autistic traits and struggled with my condition in my youth before being diagnosed in my 40s, it’s perhaps easier to see that progress is being made communicating our thoughts and needs to society, but I fear that same ongoing success has not been forthcoming for ADHD and dyslexic communities. Indeed, there has been some vile and misplaced prejudice prominently voiced recently about ADHD – suggesting that it’s a fad and has been wrongly or over-diagnosed. That very urgently needs countering in this time of divisive culture wars, with assaults on inclusivity and diversity. My stepdaughter Megan is dyslexic, so I have experience of the positive and challenging impacts of that, and thinking about ADHD is a bit like holding a misty mirror up to myself, because there is often an overlap between the traits of autism and ADHD – "double-diagnosis" is far from uncommon, so I was very keen to learn more and do what I could to help. Except that in this series, as with our last, it wasn’t just me. I was part of an exceptional team, many of whom are neurodiverse themselves. They, our four new contributors and their friends and families, will, I’m sure, make the new series of Inside Our Minds a success, allowing a more empathetic understanding of those remarkable people who struggle and succeed with these simply different but equally wonderful minds. Prof Amanda Kirby chair, the ADHD Foundation What exactly is ADHD and how does it present itself in the brain? Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder is a misnomer: it’s a surfeit of attention, not a deficit. You may have difficulty in focusing and maintaining interest in things that don’t interest you, while hyper-focusing on things that do. Switching from one task to another can be hard. People talk about ADHD as “time-blindness”: you might not understand how long something’s going to take, so you prevaricate. What’s the biggest misconception about ADHD? That we over-diagnose it. We’ve actually been under-diagnosing. Until relatively recently, it was thought to be a childhood condition, blamed on bad parenting. But it’s not something that disappears in adulthood. We’re now catching up with undiagnosed adults, particularly women and other marginalised groups. In your experience, how do people respond when they learn they have ADHD later in life? With mixed feelings of joy and disappointment. And sometimes grief: 'What did I lose in not knowing earlier?' But putting in strategies to help can bring relief by acknowledging things were hard, but there is now a reason. Some people are still sceptical — Reform UK leader Nigel Farage recently said diagnosis was creating a "class of victims". Talking of people with ADHD as “victims” is damaging and misinformed, and dismisses the real challenges faced by individuals and their families. No doctor is going to just diagnose you randomly – it’s a rigorous assessment process. Henry, 23 You were diagnosed with ADHD as a teenager – what effect did that have on you? Before being diagnosed, I was close to dropping out of my A-levels. I thought I was a bit stupid. The diagnosis gave me an understanding that I’m not broken. But it was so intense that I never really had a chance to digest it at the time. Did taking part in this programme help your family understand you? After getting my diagnosis, it was Project Henry: let’s get Henry through school and university. I’m so grateful for their support, but what they didn’t comprehend was that ADHD wasn’t just about academia for me, it was omnipotent. Making my film was cathartic – my family have a deeper understanding now. I feel I can tell them when I need a bit of space, or ask them to explain something to me differently. There’s less of the frustration that led us to butt heads. It’s given me a new language. How would you describe your ADHD? My ADHD feels like a tombola: my body will spit a random ball out and it feels unfeasible to reach for anything. Tombola Man’s the one picking them out, but he’s not really picking the balls that matter. It’ll be stuff that I don’t need to think about, projects that I want to start but haven’t – and then I haven’t eaten… How would you like viewers to respond to the programme? I hope people will feel less afraid and alone, because there are many of us out there. What Chris Packham has done in talking about ADHD, taking the stigma away, is just beautiful. Prof Joel Talcott, neuroscientist What's unique about dyslexia? Dyslexia is a hereditary condition rooted in neurobiology. It emerges from underlying difficulties in cognitive ability, language processing, visual spatial processing and working memory. It’s not just about difficulty in reading – in evolutionary terms, humans haven’t been reading for that long – it can also include remembering simple verbal navigation instructions. What do you hope programmes like this will achieve? In certain political circles, we seem to be questioning whether these things exist. Establishing them as real can help us view them more holistically, as individual experiences with their own strengths and weaknesses rather than just limitations. Suiki, 35 When were you diagnosed and what has it meant to you? In lockdown in 2020 I started a Masters degree in psychotherapy. I had this inkling that I might be dyslexic: I was a bit clumsy with my words, my spelling and my memory, and I had low self-esteem. I got an assessment from the university’s dedicated disability team, and it brought a lot of clarity. How has making the programme affected your relationship with your family? They’ve accepted that some things aren’t straightforward for me. They understand that if I’m responding in a way that seems harsh, it’s just because it can be tricky for me to communicate. Generally, I’m more assured to say it’s because I’m dyslexic. What positive impact does your dyslexia have in your daily life? When I’m counselling someone, I often see a picture when they talk about their feelings. Describing these metaphorical pictures to them can then help us talk about their emotions and implement a plan. What do you hope viewers will take away from the programme? That dyslexia’s not something you have to hide. If you have a loved one, or someone you work with, who’s dyslexic, I hope it gives some insight into what they’re going through – and that you can talk about it confidently. The latest issue of Radio Times is out now – subscribe here. Inside our ADHD Minds begins Monday 12th May at 9pm on BBC Two and iPlayer. Check out more of our Documentaries coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more from the biggest stars in TV, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
After three action-packed series as showrunner, Chris Chibnall is preparing to hand back the keys to the Tardis. Robin Parker asks, will he miss it?
This article was published in RT in April 2022 and is part of our digital Doctor Who anniversary bookazine — click here to download it for free. Nobody in TV cuts a more relaxed figure than a demob-happy Doctor Who showrunner. The heavy toll of years spent configuring their galaxy-spinning imagination with the hard reality of budgets and maintaining their role as custodian of secrets in the face of teaser-hungry fans dissipates as they hit the home straight. As Chris Chibnall prepares for his swansong specials to air (one this week and another later this year to mark the BBC’s 100th anniversary), he has more reason than most to celebrate: producing the behemoth during the pandemic nearly curtailed his and Jodie Whittaker’s three-series-and-out plan. “That we made Doctor Who at all during the past two years is a miracle,” admits Chibnall, hitherto far less of a public face of the programme than his predecessors Russell T Davies and Steven Moffat. “There was a point around April/May 2020 where it looked like we’d have to call it a day after two series. If we hadn’t already planned to leave after series three, there’s no way I’d be staying on now after going through that experience.” Looking back on the time-and-space hopping adventure, he says he’s “flabbergasted” at the team’s efforts to tell a story of scale. This being Doctor Who, of course, there was no let-up and a planned final trio of epic specials, culminating in the Doctor’s regeneration this autumn, nearly fell at the first fence, with production and budget pressures forcing Chibnall to pare down Eve of the Daleks, which aired on New Year’s Day. “We had to ditch our original idea and I had to write a new script in just over a week,” he reveals. “You can’t just go, ‘Right, we’ve got the series and then we’ll do the specials.’ You’re constantly on this treadmill.” It’s that treadmill that he’ll miss the least: simultaneously writing, filming and in post-production on multiple episodes as well as planning the next season. When he pressed Moffat on how he managed to juggle working on Who and Sherlock, Moffat said he didn’t know, but somehow Who still took up all the time. “Steven told me, ‘I miss the work, but I don’t miss the workload.’ That’s where I’m heading towards.” Chibnall, 52, wrote five episodes under Davies and Moffat before becoming showrunner, and was lead writer on spin-off Torchwood for its first two series from 2006. Did he know what he was letting himself in for? Is that why he imposed his own exit plan? Partly, he admits. “Having observed Russell and Steven at work, I knew how exhausting the show was, and Jodie and I both have families. I didn’t want to be showrunning Doctor Who in the year my children were doing their A-level and GCSE exams, which they are now. I owed it to my family – I hadn’t seen much of them in recent years.” The Chibnalls still watch Doctor Who as a family and he treasures a visual bookmark of his tenure: a photo of his eldest, aged five, in David Tennant’s Tardis and another photo of him, now aged 18, on the set of Whittaker’s ship. “It’s been woven into our lives – probably a bit too much to be honest!” It’s been woven into his life since Tom Baker played the Doc. I feel the need to check: you have had fun in your dream job, haven’t you? “Everything on Doctor Who is exciting!” he says. “You have to live in the moment and enjoy it, because you know you’re never going to do anything like it ever again, whatever you do.” Nevertheless, the convoluted dovetailing plotlines of a few of his episodes took some effort to follow and that cost him some of the goodwill from casual viewers that greeted Whittaker’s arrival: even the New Year special mustered fewer than five million within a week of its broadcast, a far cry from the 13.3m who tuned in to David Tennant’s biggest Christmas special in 2007, at the peak of Davies’s imperial phase. If these figures, and the more vocal fan reactions, bother him, he’s not showing it. Asked how much consideration he gives to fandom, he is blunt: “Absolute zero. That was the advice from both Russell and Steven.” He had a vision for a three-series arc and delivered it – any other worries, such as whether Who’s weekly release pattern is an “outlier” in the streaming age – is above his pay grade. Landing a cliffhanger or teaser that encourages a return the following week is, he says, tricky to navigate in the streaming era and he is personally “all for the box set” as a viewer. He also acknowledges that the competition in sci-fi and fantasy has never been greater. But Doctor Who still has an ace up its sleeve: “Unlike all those Marvel shows and films, Doctor Who never ends with a punch. That’s still an incredible thing.” Of his alien creations, he’s proud of Swarm, Azure and Karvanista from last year’s six-parter Flux, as well as his debut season’s baddie “Tim Shaw”, and relished placing old favourites the Sontarans in the Crimean War. There’s something of the old-fashioned repertory theatre that appeals to him in making the show. “It takes three weeks to film a standard episode and then you’re onto the next, and we’ve kept pretty much the same team throughout. You can go from a huge pirate ship to a space station or a cabin in the Crimea. What I’ll miss most is the constant delight at other crafts-people’s brilliant work.” For someone who wrote all 24 episodes of ITV’s Broadchurch, Chibnall’s collegiate approach is striking, and his democratising of the writing team is one of his most significant legacies. Where Moffat anchored his series to veteran writers like Richard Curtis, Frank Cottrell-Boyce, Luther creator Neil Cross and Chibnall himself, this most recent era has been full of new, diverse voices, from Murdered by My Father writer Vinay Patel to Sea Devils co-writer, playwright Ella Road. “There’s a swathe of amazing writers out there and it felt like I’d be doing the show a disservice if I didn’t bring them in,” he says. Some of the stories he wanted to tell – the Partition of India, the protest of Rosa Parks – demanded an authenticity, and a writers’ room shaped ideas, with Chibnall having final pass on each script. Stories emerged both organically from a shared interest and from serendipity in fusing loose threads from different story ideas. “David Lynch has a great quote: ‘Plan vigorously and allow for the happy accidents.’ Everything on this show is that, times a thousand.” He’s also taken the elasticity of the format further than most, layering in a Doctor origin story as audacious as it is divisive – a badge of honour for any Who showrunner, it seems – you’re not doing your job if fans all agree. “You’re not carrying a vase across a room – you’ve got to get in there and say what you want about the show, the character and the world,” he says. “It’s one of the few drama series without a written bible, and every era contains a contradiction or left-turn from what has come before. Any future showrunner will ignore it or run with it.” Davies is returning in time for the 60th anniversary. Which will he do, does he reckon? “Oh, I fully expect Russell to ignore it!” he belly laughs. Before we come to his successor, it’s worth remembering that Chibnall’s desire to shake things up kicked in with his casting of the first female Doctor. Having worked with Jodie on Broadchurch, what planted the seed? “First, she’s one of the greatest actors of her generation,” he declares. “But I thought – and I’d been guilty of this – the parts she’d taken didn’t necessarily demonstrate her energy and physicality, her humour and her clownlike qualities.” In her audition, he recalls, she “brought the Doctor in with her straightaway”. Her idea of the Doctor fused Christopher Lloyd as Doc Brown in Back to the Future with Madonna in a trouser suit. Having spent most of Broadchurch sobbing on screen, she pleaded: “Can I please not cry?” Chibnall says, “I promised her she wouldn’t be crying for a long time.” His writing leaned into a childlike quality shared by actor and character – “like she’s in a cave and the lights come on, at every moment” – plus a pragmatism and love of engineering and science that have inspired young female fans. Having planned an emotional journey of discovery for Jodie’s Doctor over three series, he promises her story will wrap up “in a really huge, fun, action-y, mad, heartbreaking way. There’ll be a lot of laughs and tears in that final episode. You want to do everything.” That final special is also part of the BBC’s centenary plans, so expect a “celebration” of the broadcaster within the story, he teases. “There are some treats – Easter eggs and kisses to the past.” (What can he mean? The Daleks blowing up Alexandra Palace? The Master posing as Mary Whitehouse? Start formulating your theories now…) After all, he says, the BBC is something worth celebrating. “I have no idea why you would want to bash the BBC,” he says. “Look at the amazing drama and entertainment they still pump out – The Tourist, Time, Strictly… Everybody likes to attack it until we have a pandemic or a massive war and then everyone asks, ‘Can you tell us the truth, please?’ and the BBC does that. We should never take it for granted.” He is eager to see how Davies remodels the show, and some of his production team are staying on for the 60th anniversary. “Everybody should have a big smile on their face. Russell is one of the elite showrunners and Who is very lucky to have him, especially off the back of It’s a Sin, one of the greatest shows of all time. For him to have incredible ideas and passion for it, to want to take it forward again – that’s fab. Nobody has a greater love for Doctor Who.” What did he learn from Davies? Launching into a passable impression of Russell’s jaunty Welsh lilt, he recalls being told of a Torchwood ensemble cast scene, “I just want to know what everybody in this scene thinks.” Chibnall elaborates: “Everybody in that room needs to have a distinct point of view and it needs to be there in that scene. For Russell, as a humanist and a character writer, nobody’s ever neglected, nobody’s ever denied their moment. A tiny note opens up everything.” Would he dare impart any new-found wisdom to Davies? “The same as he gave me: enjoy it. I’ve absolutely loved it. It’s such a privilege. Few people have done it and you’re standing in the footsteps of those people across 60 years now.” So you’ll be pitching him Who stories then? He laughs, a hoot as garrulous as the best of Davies’s. “Absolutely never again! Clear red line, final script. I never expected to come back after working with Steven, really, and I’d turned it down a couple of times after that. I never thought I’d be offered the job and built into that is why I wanted to keep it to a very specific three-series thing. “Supervising teenagers’ revision is taking up my time now and there’s lots of other things to write! I will happily sit back and watch. For all that it’s been gorgeous all along, now it’s like, ‘Oh I remember this. This is what real life is like!’ ”
He loves a big night out in Vegas, but playing golf with Jed Mercurio? Not so much…
Add Fear to your watchlist What’s the view from your sofa? We’re at the stage of life where everything revolves around the kid, so I’m rarely on it! Usually, I do the mornings and my wife does night-times. If I’m not working, I’m in bed by half eight and up at six with the wee fella. Do you and your wife ever get to spend time as a couple? We try to get out of the house – we like to go for dinner and see a show. If ever you’re in Vegas [Compston lives there with his wife, American actor Tianna Chanel Flynn and their four-year-old son] see Absinthe, which is phenomenal – it’s like an adult Cirque du Soleil. And The Years, which has just transferred to London’s West End, is the best show I’ve seen in a long time. Anything you’ve liked on TV recently? I was intrigued by The Penguin. I’m not a superhero guy but I’ve followed Colin Farrell through In Bruges and The Banshees of Inisherin, so I gave it a try. It wasn’t at all what I expected! I loved Colin’s mannerisms – his walk, the blinking of his eye. He’s an evil b*****d, but he has you rooting for him! You’ve spent a lot of time back in Scotland recently filming The Rig and your new Amazon Prime Video thriller Fear. Is it good to be home? Wild Mercury, which produces both shows, has pretty much kept me in work over the past couple of years. They’ve made a huge investment in Scotland and I’m chuffed to be part of it. Fear was filmed in the West End of Glasgow, which is a beautiful area. The house where we filmed overlooks Kelvingrove Park and I got quite giddy, because a lot of Celtic players live around there and I’d see them walking their dogs. The house is a character in itself. Would you like to live there? Running up those stairs, at times they felt endless… There’s all these secret rooms to explore over five levels. But at night, it’d be a lonely place if you had to get up to go to the bathroom. It’s cold and dark and would be hell to heat! Fear taps into a current trend for dramas that depict parental nightmares. As a father, did that resonate with you? As you get older, you become a bit less selfish and try to do what’s best for your family. I think everyone can relate to wanting to give your kids a better life – and the fear of them being taken away. My character Martyn and his wife, Rebecca, are accused of the most horrible things you could level at a parent. These days, it seems that if somebody calls you something, it sticks without any evidence or recourse. Anjli Mohindra plays your wife and Daniel Portman is also in Fear — all three of you were in Vigil. Did it feel like a reunion? Well, I died before the credits in that one! But I saw Dan across the room at one point and Anjli’s character tried to resuscitate me. We’ve all become pretty tight since this and try to meet up when we’re in London. You also still keep in regular touch with the Line of Duty gang, don’t you? Jed [Mercurio] is coming to see me in Vegas – he’s determined to get a round of golf, which is not my forte. I’ll probably go slash a few balls and get some dinner. And I speak to Vicky [McClure] and Adrian [Dunbar] pretty much every day – we’re all in a WhatsApp group. Do you get tired of being asked about when it might be coming back? No, it’ll be a sad day when people stop asking! I’m really proud of it and I’m happy it’s made such an impact. So… any update? I’m aware of not getting people’s hopes up. At the moment, there’s nothing to share. When there’s something to tell, you’ll hear it first from us. We’ll be delighted to share it!
Martin Compston on new series Fear and 'not getting hopes up' for Line of Duty season 7
Compston spoke with Radio Times magazine about his Prime Video thriller co-starring Anjli Mohindra.
This article first appeared in Radio Times magazine. What's the view from your sofa? We’re at the stage of life where everything revolves around the kid, so I’m rarely on it! Usually, I do the mornings and my wife does night-times. If I’m not working, I’m in bed by half eight and up at six with the wee fella. Do you and your wife ever get to spend time as a couple? We try to get out of the house – we like to go for dinner and see a show. If ever you’re in Vegas [Compston lives there with his wife, American actor Tianna Chanel Flynn, and their four-year-old son] see Absinthe, which is phenomenal – it’s like an adult Cirque du Soleil. And The Years, which has just transferred to London’s West End, is the best show I’ve seen in a long time. Anything you've liked on TV recently? I was intrigued by The Penguin. I’m not a superhero guy but I’ve followed Colin Farrell through In Bruges and The Banshees of Inisherin, so I gave it a try. It wasn’t at all what I expected! I loved Colin’s mannerisms – his walk, the blinking of his eye. He’s an evil b*****d, but he has you rooting for him! You’ve spent a lot of time back in Scotland recently filming The Rig and your new Amazon Prime Video thriller Fear. Is it good to be home? Wild Mercury, which produces both shows, has pretty much kept me in work over the past couple of years. They’ve made a huge investment in Scotland and I’m chuffed to be part of it. Fear was filmed in the West End of Glasgow, which is a beautiful area. The house where we filmed overlooks Kelvingrove Park and I got quite giddy, because a lot of Celtic players live around there and I’d see them walking their dogs. The house is a character in itself. Would you like to live there? Running up those stairs, at times they felt endless… There’s all these secret rooms to explore over five levels. But at night, it’d be a lonely place if you had to get up to go to the bathroom. It’s cold and dark and would be hell to heat! Fear taps into a current trend for dramas that depict parental nightmares. As a father, did that resonate with you? As you get older, you become a bit less selfish and try to do what’s best for your family. I think everyone can relate to wanting to give your kids a better life – and the fear of them being taken away. My character Martyn and his wife, Rebecca, are accused of the most horrible things you could level at a parent. These days, it seems that if somebody calls you something, it sticks without any evidence or recourse. Anjli Mohindra plays your wife and Daniel Portman is also in Fear — all three of you were in Vigil. Did it feel like a reunion? Well, I died before the credits in that one! But I saw Dan across the room at one point and Anjli’s character tried to resuscitate me. We’ve all become pretty tight since this and try to meet up when we’re in London. You also still keep in regular touch with the Line of Duty gang, don't you? Jed [Mercurio] is coming to see me in Vegas – he’s determined to get a round of golf, which is not my forte. I’ll probably go slash a few balls and get some dinner. And I speak to Vicky [McClure] and Adrian [Dunbar] pretty much every day – we’re all in a WhatsApp group. Do you get tired of being asked about when it might be coming back? No, it’ll be a sad day when people stop asking! I’m really proud of it and I’m happy it’s made such an impact. So… any update? I’m aware of not getting people’s hopes up. At the moment, there’s nothing to share. When there’s something to tell, you’ll hear it first from us. We’ll be delighted to share it! The latest issue of Radio Times is out now – subscribe here. View Affiliate Playlist on the source website Fear premieres on Prime Video on Tuesday 4th March - you can sign up now for a free 30-day Prime Video trial. Check out more of our Drama coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more from the biggest stars in TV, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
Jack Rooke and Dylan Llewellyn say goodbye to Big Boys
"It does feel like we’re still growing as a show, but for now everyone is left where they should be."
This article first appeared in Radio Times magazine. Will the real Jack Rooke please stand up? The Big Boys creator admits that his hit Channel 4 comedy is an amalgam of three personas: lead character Jack, played by Dylan Llewellyn, loosely modelled on his young self but increasingly put in fictional scenarios; Jack the wry narrator, voiced by Rooke himself, and the 31 year-old Bafta-winning writer and performer. More confusingly still, he says, "there’s definitely a lot of me in Jack’s cousin Shannon and a bit of me in [his friend] Yemi as well". Since the largely autobiographical first series, the character of Jack has been honed by the pair of them with director Jim Archer. The journey of discovery undertaken by Jack, a young gay man navigating student life following the death of his father, certainly rang true to Llewellyn. "I read Jack’s book [Cheer the F*** Up] and studied the man he was then rather than him now," the actor reflects. "I related to his shyness in series one – meeting new people and coming out of his shell. At drama school, I became more comfortable with myself and bonded with a group of friends – and like Jack, became sassier too." Read more: Big Boys ends with season 3, but the impact of Jack Rooke's story won't Jack Rooke, Jon Pointing, Dylan Llewellyn & Big Boys cast Play 'Who said that?!' It must be an odd experience to be effectively playing your boss, but the growing bonds between Rooke and his cast have helped. The writer has seen a strong parallel between Jack and his friend Danny and the friendship that blossomed between Llewellyn and co-star Jon Pointing. Away from the show, there have been bowling nights and dinners, including one where they pretended it was Llewellyn’s birthday just to get a cake. "I’m quite a curious person and I ask Jack lots of questions about what ‘Jack’ would do," Llewellyn says. "I feel super comfortable with sharing my thoughts on how to get the best out of the character, and I hope Jack feels comfortable with that too.” Season 3 kicks off with Jack’s 21st birthday (though now 32, Llewellyn’s still baby-faced enough to pull this off) and a horrific case of sunburn on summer holiday with his friends in Greece – an experience that pale-skinned Jack has never endured in a place that he has never visited. “It’s much more a piece of fiction now but the emotion comes from a truthful place – I write stuff that’ll be funny for the characters even if there’s not any direct evidence.” Nor is he proffering any direct evidence that Jack’s striking wardrobe mirrors that of his younger self. Berets feature heavily this series as Jack goes through a pretentious phase. “There’s a red-knit vest that we both hated but Dylan’s only in it for 10 seconds!” says Rooke. “He can be absolutely smothered in red paint and go ‘this is great!’, but when he put this on, even I was anxious for him…” He says he has increasingly leant into Llewellyn’s talent for combining vulnerability and physical comedy as the series has gone on. “People love the character because Dylan conveys a complex range of emotions really well – he understands the vulnerability and there’s a joy when he does something brave,” Rooke says. “There’s some real tension in this series between Jack and Danny – there’s one scene in episode 5 that I haven’t been able to watch without crying. I’m like an oddly proud mum!” An equally proud moment for both of them was watching the Pride 2022 special of Celebrity Gogglebox, particularly presenter Rylan’s response to the climax of season 1. “He’s remained a cheerleader for the show – and I gave him a cameo in this series,” Rooke reveals. “He’s playing a chaotic version of himself and hit our comic tone really well.” But it’s Jack and Danny’s story, with the series leading up to their final university dissertation. Does Rooke want to follow them into their adult lives? “It’s funny - before, I’ve raced into writing each series, but I might take my time to consider what I want to do next. It does feel like we’re still growing as a show, but for now everyone is left where they should be. We’ll see if one day I want to take them out of the box and put them in another situation.” Anyway, he says, he has bigger plans for Llewellyn: “I definitely want to work him again, but it could be something completely different. I would love to write him as a villain – an absolute horrowshow of a person.” A baby-faced baddie? Llewellyn’s game. “Anything Jack writes, I want to be involved, if he’ll have me. I don’t want Big Boys to end – I want it to be like an American show where we go to series 12. But we’ve got to face reality...” Big Boys season 3 will air at 10pm on Sunday 9th February on Channel 4. The first three episodes are already available to stream on Channel 4+ Premiere. Check out more of our Comedy coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more from the biggest stars in TV, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
Father Brown's latest mystery involves Radio Times: "It's vital"
Mark Williams says the plot detail speaks volumes about the magazine's place in the nation's affections.
The BBC comes to Kembleford in this week’s episode of Father Brown – with none other than Radio Times playing a crucial role in the resolution of the latest murder in the village. The stars of farm-based radio drama The Muckles (no prizes for guessing the inspiration for that), including Graham Snow (Martin Jarvis) and caddish Charlie Chumley (Nick Helm), are visiting to record a special wedding episode and shoot a Radio Times cover. Father Brown star Mark Williams, who has twice graced our cover, says the plot detail speaks volumes about its place in the nation’s affections. "I remember my parents sitting down and going through it in close detail, making crosses against the things they wanted to see or hear. "It isn’t about somebody’s opinion or a press mogul’s power trip – it’s a manual. People have a different attitude towards it than other magazines. It’s vital." It’s also a time capsule: in 1954, around the time that the episode is set, Radio Times marked the 1,000th episode of The Archers with a cover shot on a farm – a template of which was shared with the Father Brown production team so they could re-create their fictional version. "It’s amazing how the Radio Times can date you. It’s like the Blue Peter annual – you recognise exactly the covers from when you were a kid," says the 65-year-old actor, who recalls being a child of the Valerie Singleton and John Noakes era. This isn’t the only nod to BBC history – later in the series, Angela Rippon cameos in another episode featuring a show called Go Dancing. "She’s a fan," says Williams, adding: "She didn’t read the whole script because she wanted to watch it to find out who did it, which requires enormous self-discipline." As for Williams, he’s showing no sign of hanging up his vestments, but after 130 episodes claims, "I’m getting quicker at working out who did it!" Father Brown star admits he was "really worried" about cast changes Father Brown's Mark Williams on show's continued success: "Why are you surprised?" Father Brown continues today (Friday 31st January) at 2pm on BBC One and BBC iPlayer. The latest episodes are all available now on iPlayer. Check out more of our Drama coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more from the biggest stars in TV, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
Can following in the footsteps of a refugee change the minds of those who are anti-immigration? A new C4 series plans to find out
Add Go Back to Where You Came From to your watchlist It’s a provocative premise: take a group of people with outspoken views on immigration, get them to witness the reality of life in the danger zones of Somalia and Syria, then take them on a month-long journey following a refugee’s perilous route through Africa, the Middle East and Europe into the UK. Go Back to Where You Came From, a new Channel 4 reality series, does just this. The participants are first exposed to life in the war-torn towns – sometimes in armoured cars – that migrants have fled from. They then trek through deserts, navigate perilous border crossings, visit overcrowded refugee camps and burnt-out homes, before finally being crammed into a dinghy from Calais to Dover. Among the participants are a chef, a haulage business owner and a provocative blogger, with most coming from communities in the UK in which immigration has had an impact. Some views on display will be unpalatable to many, but executive producer Emma Young believes the six travellers represent the full spectrum of attitudes towards this hot-button issue. “We weren’t out to judge anyone,” she says. “We wanted to take people who represent voices up and down the UK to these places to see for themselves, and meet the people on whom they’ve had these views. It was key to make sure that on the journeys, all the anti- and pro-arguments were addressed.” This format began life in Australia in 2011, with the first series – in which participants lived in a refugee camp and experienced immigration raids – hailed as groundbreaking. Versions have since been made in Germany and Belgium, and it has been shown in the US. But it has taken years to come to the UK, where producers say they were determined to head off concerns about making entertainment out of often tragic circumstances in the show, which has been criticised by some refugee charities. Young travelled on the Somalian leg. A suicide bomb attack on Mogadishu’s Lido Beach claimed 32 lives just weeks after the group filmed there. They also visited a Syrian café following a recent attack. “It’s easy to be lulled into a false sense of security when you’re travelling in armoured vehicles,” she admits, “but often we were only allowed out of the cars for 20 to 40 minutes. You just don’t know when something might happen.” In Syria, the participants staying in a local family’s home are woken from their beds and urgently whisked away to safety when a security alert is raised. Yet it was in Calais, where the participants prepared to face their final leg, that Young felt most vulnerable. “It felt lawless, people were telling us about gang violence, issues with smugglers. With different groups of refugees almost fighting each other, it really felt very Lord of the Flies.” Bushra Shaik, a British Muslim, took part to counter what she sees as a widespread “dehumanising” of immigrants. She describes Boris Johnson comparing burka-wearing women to “letterboxes” as “degrading, rude, wrong and unfunny”. She adds, “I don’t want my children to be the target of such hateful conversation.” She describes the trip as “relentless” and “very frightening” and says she returned to the UK feeling guilty at how ungrateful she had been for her comfortable life. “People don’t get to choose where they’re born. I want my kids to understand that people are taking these journeys because they have to do whatever they can to protect their families and give them the best opportunities.” Chloe Dobbs, who’s an advocate of tighter immigration controls, says the experience opened her eyes to the role of foreign aid, and what she sees as the government’s neglect in freeing Syria from Isis without giving them sufficient support to rebuild the country. “I no longer blame immigrants for coming here – I blame governments, officials and everyone who’s turned a blind eye,” she says. For Young, these responses demonstrate the value of the series. The Australian version has been studied in schools there – would Young like to see it on the UK curriculum? “I’d like to see it shown in schools – bar the swearing, perhaps! – because it’s about how people communicate. We’re all victims of living in our own echo chambers.”
Patience star: 'It's common for dramas to infantilise autistic women'
Ella Maisy Purvis and Laura Fraser speak to Radio Times about their Channel 4 drama.
This article first appeared in Radio Times magazine. When Ella Maisy Purvis, star of the new Channel 4 crime drama Patience, was diagnosed with autism in her late teens, she was advised that adopting the "stigmatising" label would hold her back in life. The first thing anyone will tell you upon meeting Purvis is that nothing holds her back. She knows she's amazing and, in the most charming way, will tell you so in no uncertain terms. Unsurprising then, that at just 20 years old she bagged her first lead role playing Patience Evans, a precise and socially uncomfortable young woman working in Yorkshire Police’s criminal records department, who ends up helping Detective Bea Metcalf, played by Laura Fraser, with her investigations. From the OCD traits of Ben Miller's Professor T and Ralf Little's DI Neville Parker in Death in Paradise, to Saga Noren in The Bridge and David Mitchell's awkward puzzle setter John Taylor in Ludwig, it's not unheard of for TV's crime solvers to display neurodivergent tendencies, even when it’s not made explicit. But compared to those shows, this drama (which is based on the French series Astrid et Raphaëlle, itself available on Channel 4 streaming as Astrid: Murder in Paris) breaks new ground in casting Purvis, who says she was struck by how sensitively the part was written. "Not to speak badly of other shows, but it's common for dramas to infantilise disabled people, especially autistic women. As much as Patience gets things wrong, misses social cues and finds it a hard world to navigate, she has a lot of agency. She’s incredibly determined, and has a strong sense of justice. She's also pretty cool, not weak in any way. She struggles, but it's shown with great empathy and care. And she wears a lot of great turtlenecks!" Purvis initially trained as a classical ballet dancer but felt a switch flip in her brain at the age of 17, telling her, "with absolute confidence", to give up ballet and pursue acting. Though undiagnosed at the time, she attributes this sudden decisiveness to her autism. Well, that, and her absolute inability to keep quiet for the duration of her dance lessons. She studied acting at Lamda, the renowned London drama school that has trained everyone from Jim Broadbent to Ruth Wilson and Benedict Cumberbatch, soon landing a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it part in Netflix's Heartstopper – "Girl number one, episode four, one minute and 12 seconds in". She then got a small role in CBBC drama A Kind of Spark, which featured several neurodivergent actors, some of whom remain close friends of hers. Naturally, she talked producers into casting her in a second, more substantial part in series two. Now, in her first lead role, Purvis has been trusted to bring her own experiences to the part, despite the fact she's the polar opposite of Patience. "She is very internal and I’m more external. I don’t necessarily have a filter on what I say," she laughs, with some understatement. "I was encouraged to be myself in creating Patience – her costume, her likes, what she doesn’t like – it was very open and trusting," she says. She even got the final say on the casting of Patience's cat. Nevertheless, there are parallels between actor and character. A scene in which we see Patience making a phone call, having mapped out every variable of conversation in a notebook, only to be thwarted when she’s confronted by a reaction she hadn’t factored in, drew laughs at a press screening. "When I read it, I was like, ‘Oh, yeah, I do that,’" she laughs. "I’ll have a conversation in my head – ‘I’ll say hello, then I’ll say this, then they’ll say that’. I used to practise in the mirror, then would go to the person, ‘Oh, hey, yeah, super chill, not thinking about this at all, but just wondering…’" At this point Laura Fraser, who’s sitting alongside her, interjects: "So when the audience laughs, do you feel affronted?" Purvis’s reaction is firm. "No! Patience is never the butt of the joke, nothing’s at her expense. She makes a lot of the jokes, even though she doesn’t always realise that’s what she’s doing." Throughout our conversation, 49-year-old Fraser takes a back seat and allows her co-star to shine. Their relationship blossomed over the week prior to filming, when Fraser noticed Purvis discreetly sticking Post-it notes on her. "She wrote nice things, like ‘I like you’," Fraser recalls. "That developed into writing longer letters to each other that we’d put under each other’s hotel door, pretending to be companions in Victorian times." Purvis recites one such message: "'I’ve travelled many winters, and your face is the only thing that keeps me warm…'" Explaining, "I was on a ship and the passage was bumpy." "Is this usual?" she asks. Fraser smiles. "No! But I loved it, it was so nice." The on-screen relationship between Fraser’s Bea Metcalf and Patience is similarly compassionate; rather than the conflict that some might expect, there’s a maternal quality. "Bea’s not the most balanced emotionally,” explains Fraser, “but she’s open to Patience’s strength and skills, and by the end of episode one, there’s a friendship forming – almost like a love story – that enables her to make all these changes in her own life." Purvis observes: "Bea is the first person who treats Patience like a person." Touchingly, Fraser also says she could really relate to Patience and felt seen – like the fact that she always carries two umbrellas, just in case one breaks. "I always have two of each thing in my bag – I’m very prepared," says Fraser. "I lost my umbrella for the first time in ten years and fell apart. I should have taken two – what is wrong with me?" Beyond the procedural cases – a two-part opener, then four further cases – the drama digs deeper into Patience’s world with childhood flashbacks, and visits to a support group for autistic people, all played by neurodivergent actors. Fraser has several family members with autism and says she found a scene she shot with these actors particularly moving. Then, noting how perfectly Patience is suited to her role as a detective’s aide, she posits: "I wonder how many detectives are autistic in real life…" While Fraser takes a break from acting to write a novel (not a crime one, she emphasises), we’ll next see Purvis in UKTV’s Bergerac reboot. Is she working her way through the cop-show canon? Has she got a favourite? "Line of Duty," she says in a heartbeat, repeating the three words with punctuation and singing the praises of Vicky McClure. She issues a personal plea for Jed Mercurio to get back to his keyboard. "I want to know who H really is! I want Adrian Dunbar to get all flustered and Anna Maxwell Martin to tell him to sit down." Or perhaps, if Maxwell Martin’s too busy with Ludwig, Mercurio could get on the phone to Ella Maisy Purvis… The latest issue of Radio Times is out now – subscribe here. Patience premieres on Channel 4 at 9pm on Wednesday 8th January 2025. Check out more of our Drama coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more from the biggest stars in TV, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
Ella Maisy Purvis and Laura Fraser on why their compassionate and quirky new drama is more than just another police procedural
Add Patience to your watchlist When Ella Maisy Purvis, star of the new Channel 4 crime drama Patience, was diagnosed with autism in her late teens, she was advised that adopting the “stigmatising” label would hold her back in life. The first thing anyone will tell you upon meeting Purvis is that nothing holds her back. She knows she’s amazing and, in the most charming way, will tell you so in no uncertain terms. Unsurprising then, that at just 20 years old she bagged her first lead role playing Patience Evans, a precise and socially uncomfortable young woman working in Yorkshire Police’s criminal records department, who ends up helping Detective Bea Metcalf, played by Laura Fraser, with her investigations. From the OCD traits of Ben Miller’s Professor T and Ralf Little’s DI Neville Parker in Death in Paradise, to Saga Noren in The Bridge and David Mitchell’s awkward puzzle setter John Taylor in Ludwig, it’s not unheard of for TV’s crime solvers to display neurodivergent tendencies, even when it’s not made explicit. But compared to those shows, this drama (which is based on the French series Astrid et Raphaëlle, itself available on Channel 4 streaming as Astrid: Murder in Paris) breaks new ground in casting Purvis, who says she was struck by how sensitively the part was written. “Not to speak badly of other shows, but it’s common for dramas to infantilise disabled people, especially autistic women. As much as Patience gets things wrong, misses social cues and finds it a hard world to navigate, she has a lot of agency. She’s incredibly determined, and has a strong sense of justice. She’s also pretty cool, not weak in any way. She struggles, but it’s shown with great empathy and care. And she wears a lot of great turtlenecks!” Purvis initially trained as a classical ballet dancer but felt a switch flip in her brain at the age of 17, telling her, “with absolute confidence”, to give up ballet and pursue acting. Though undiagnosed at the time, she attributes this sudden decisiveness to her autism. Well, that, and her absolute inability to keep quiet for the duration of her dance lessons. She studied acting at Lamda, the renowned London drama school that has trained everyone from Jim Broadbent to Ruth Wilson and Benedict Cumberbatch, soon landing a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it part in Netflix’s Heartstopper – “Girl number one, episode four, one minute and 12 seconds in”. She then got a small role in CBBC drama A Kind of Spark, which featured several neurodivergent actors, some of whom remain close friends of hers. Naturally, she talked producers into casting her in a second, more substantial part in series two. Now, in her first lead role, Purvis has been trusted to bring her own experiences to the part, despite the fact she’s the polar opposite of Patience. “She is very internal and I’m more external. I don’t necessarily have a filter on what I say,” she laughs, with some understatement. “I was encouraged to be myself in creating Patience – her costume, her likes, what she doesn’t like – it was very open and trusting,” she says. She even got the final say on the casting of Patience’s cat. Nevertheless, there are parallels between actor and character. A scene in which we see Patience making a phone call, having mapped out every variable of conversation in a notebook, only to be thwarted when she’s confronted by a reaction she hadn’t factored in, drew laughs at a press screening. “When I read it, I was like, ‘Oh, yeah, I do that,’” she laughs. “I’ll have a conversation in my head – ‘I’ll say hello, then I’ll say this, then they’ll say that’. I used to practise in the mirror, then would go to the person, ‘Oh, hey, yeah, super chill, not thinking about this at all, but just wondering…’” At this point Laura Fraser, who’s sitting alongside her, interjects: “So when the audience laughs, do you feel affronted?” Purvis’s reaction is firm. “No! Patience is never the butt of the joke, nothing’s at her expense. She makes a lot of the jokes, even though she doesn’t always realise that’s what she’s doing.” Throughout our conversation, 49-year-old Fraser takes a back seat and allows her co-star to shine. Their relationship blossomed over the week prior to filming, when Fraser noticed Purvis discreetly sticking Post-it notes on her. “She wrote nice things, like ‘I like you’,” Fraser recalls. “That developed into writing longer letters to each other that we’d put under each other’s hotel door, pretending to be companions in Victorian times.” Purvis recites one such message: “‘I’ve travelled many winters, and your face is the only thing that keeps me warm…’” Explaining, “I was on a ship and the passage was bumpy.” Is this usual?” she asks. Fraser smiles. “No! But I loved it, it was so nice.” The on-screen relationship between Fraser’s Bea Metcalf and Patience is similarly compassionate; rather than the conflict that some might expect, there’s a maternal quality. “Bea’s not the most balanced emotionally,” explains Fraser, “but she’s open to Patience’s strength and skills, and by the end of episode one, there’s a friendship forming – almost like a love story – that enables her to make all these changes in her own life.” Purvis observes: “Bea is the first person who treats Patience like a person.” Touchingly, Fraser also says she could really relate to Patience and felt seen – like the fact that she always carries two umbrellas, just in case one breaks. “I always have two of each thing in my bag – I’m very prepared,” says Fraser. “I lost my umbrella for the first time in ten years and fell apart. I should have taken two – what is wrong with me?” Beyond the procedural cases – a two-part opener, then four further cases – the drama digs deeper into Patience’s world with childhood flashbacks, and visits to a support group for autistic people, all played by neurodivergent actors. Fraser has several family members with autism and says she found a scene she shot with these actors particularly moving. Then, noting how perfectly Patience is suited to her role as a detective’s aide, she posits: “I wonder how many detectives are autistic in real life…” While Fraser takes a break from acting to write a novel (not a crime one, she emphasises), we’ll next see Purvis in UKTV’s Bergerac reboot. Is she working her way through the cop-show canon? Has she got a favourite? “Line of Duty,” she says in a heartbeat, repeating the three words with punctuation and singing the praises of Vicky McClure. She issues a personal plea for Jed Mercurio to get back to his keyboard. “I want to know who H really is! I want Adrian Dunbar to get all flustered and Anna Maxwell Martin to tell him to sit down.” Or perhaps, if Maxwell Martin’s too busy with Ludwig, Mercurio could get on the phone to Ella Maisy Purvis…
Piano winner Brad Kella will have a family Christmas to remember, thanks to Claudia, Mika, Lang Lang – and his very own Steinway!
Add The Piano to your watchlist There’s a bittersweet air puncturing the joyous festive music that rings through the upmarket shopping centre of the converted Battersea Power Station in London. As Lang Lang, resplendent in a Christmas jumper, wows passing shoppers with a rousing take on Ryuichi Sakamoto’s Merry Christmas, Mr Lawrence, the classical megastar is gearing up to say farewell to The Piano after two years as a judge. “I will miss all the wonderfully talented musicians I’ve met – artists with genuine hearts,” the pianist says with characteristic sincerity. “And of course, I’ll miss my friends Claudia and Mika.” As a selection of contestants from the second series take to the ivories to play a festive favourite (and the odd original), including the winner Brad Kella, it’s clear Lang Lang will be a great loss. “He told me to use all the colours of the piano, to put my heart in it and not rush,” says Kella. “More importantly, to breathe before you play and imagine you’re not playing in front of lots of people.” The brilliant Liverpudlian musician is returning to the show having since played the Royal Albert Hall, the Radio Times Screen Test Awards, in the John Lewis Christmas advert and at Anfield – “which, as a Liverpool fan, was huge! I’ve also recorded an album. None of this would have been possible without Lang Lang and Mika being so supportive.” On the show on Christmas Day he’ll be playing a piece called Shelter, “which I pitched to the John Lewis team, hopefully for next year’s advert. It’s about how it’s important that everyone has some kind of shelter over Christmas. As a kid from care, I know there are some children who’ll get put in a random family’s home and might feel scared and confused, but it’s important they enjoy a homely Christmas.” Following Kella’s success on The Piano, life has completely changed for the 23-year-old and he now does have a safe roof over his head – and his own piano. “I was gifted a Steinway from the show, which is in my living room, so I’d love for the family to get round and have a sing-song. It’s the first time that I’ve been financially stable at Christmas, so I’m looking forward to a really good one with my children, my girlfriend and my family.” CLAUDIA WINKLEMAN What’s your favourite Christmas song? White Wine in the Sun by Tim Minchin. It has emotion and melody and makes me cry. We go and see him as a family. I’m a massive fan. How central is music to your Christmas? My family takes Christmas deadly seriously. We’re not casual about it. The music begins on 1 December and Minchin always comes on first. I’ve got a lot of time for Michael Bublé, too. So will you be tickling the ivories? No! My brother plays the piano. There’s lots of little kids running around who sing into a mic. Beatles songs mostly, while we eat cheese and play lots of games super-competitively. MIKA What’s your favourite Christmas song? Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas. It has that magic combination of melancholy, sweetness, sorrow and joy together. And no sleigh bells! You’ve performed a number of Christmas songs. Have you ever tried to write one? I have just written one – completely by accident! I had this idea about a love that comes just once a year and it’s called Love Me in December. You’ll have to wait 12 months for it – maybe I can debut it in next year’s Christmas special… How central was music to you at Christmas when you were growing up? My mother would make me play about three hours of repertoire while everyone sang – mostly terribly – but it was the best time of the year. From the age of seven, I sang the masses on Christmas Eve, in Latin and English. When I started refusing, my parents were so distraught that I agreed I would go but only if we could bring all our animals. I walked into the London Oratory for midnight mass with four dogs, two rabbits and a turtle.
James May says Clarkson's Farm has given his Grand Tour co-star "a new purpose"
The presenter discusses his new TV show with Radio Times magazine.
This article first appeared in Radio Times magazine. After filming his final season of The Grand Tour, James May is back in his Wiltshire shed, where he's been inspired by the Dull Men's Club, an online community that attempts to solve "conundrums you didn’t know you had". Can May cook a casserole in his washing machine while cleaning his whites, can he crack a walnut with a sledgehammer without smashing it to pieces —and is it possible to find a use for the too-short pencil stub? At 61, you're being paid to mess about at home. Is this the dream? To get to this age and still be making a living from blundering about is great. I would be doing a lot of this even if the camera wasn’t there. I feel like I’m reverting to my 12-year-old self – I like to read books, play instruments and make things. As a child, what sparked your interest in making things? I struggled, and I still do, writing with a pen. Subconsciously I avoid anything that involves much writing in favour of things that are more practical, like Airfix and fixing bikes. I would never have made a living writing if I’d had to do it longhand. How was it, making James May and the Dull Men after filming your final instalment of The Grand Tour? It’s the difference between pottering and going out to work. We had 60 or 70 people on those big trips. While not arduous, it got quite intense and stressful. Here, it’s seven of us, which is relatively relaxed. Do you envisage more big adventures in the future? The Grand Tour is done and they don’t want any more of [travel series] Our Man in… so I don’t see much opportunity for more adventures. I’ve been extremely lucky to have seen a huge amount of the world, but as I get a little older, I’m getting more "nesty" – I’m content to be cooking, watching TV, listening to music, and going down YouTube rabbit holes looking at people making things. Is this an admission that you've become, or have always been, a "dull man"? I don’t think it is dull! I’m a bit bored with the idea that men are dull because they like going into their workshops or lofts to make things or paint pictures. I’ve argued with the producers and the channel about this – it’s meant ironically. I don’t think we should use it to beat men and say the era of "the bloke" is over. Some basic manly qualities are under threat. Many people mistakenly think it’s dull – but we’ll show them! Is there a mental health benefit to creating and mending things? Yes, I’m a bit of a fidgety, twitchy person, even more so as I age. I find doing quite focused, meticulous activities – putting things together or mending things – quite calming. What are your criteria for choosing the show's activities? It has to be achievable by a dilettante-ish person, ie me. The producers thought we could build a motorcycle from scratch and I had to say no, that’s years of work. Some ideas were simply too boring: I don’t think there’s a science in the order you put things in a dishwasher, for example, or any great truth to be revealed. How much time do you spend in your shed? A few hours, three evenings a week. About half of that I’m on my own, sometimes my partner Sarah [Frater, an art critic and journalist] is there, writing or doing some gardening. I like these things to be integrated into the rest of domestic life. The cliché of "woman doing a tapestry in the sitting room while the bloke's in the shed mending a lawnmower" is the death of a blissful home. How do you split domestic duties? I do internet, light bulbs and small domestic repairs; Sarah gardens. We’re fairly even-stevens on shopping and cooking. We spend quite a bit of time together at art galleries and exhibitions, but Sarah’s not that interested in lathe work, weirdly. She’ll say, "You go off and turn a large piece of metal into a much smaller one…" Are we in danger of losing some traditional skills in the modern world? I’m wary of the idea that skills are dying out. As far as I can make out, humankind can still do everything it’s been able to do. Some people can still thatch roofs, work lathes and do pargeting. People say, "We must get the young into bell-ringing or morris dancing, otherwise it’ll disappear" – but if it does, it’ll be because nobody was interested, in which case it doesn’t matter. I’m sure lots of so-called "traditions" disappear, but the good ones don’t. What have you been working on lately? A local charity, Navy Wings, has given me some parts to make the undercarriage of a Hawker Sea Fury plane. They have to be made accurately to be inspected and passed. I’m in the middle of turning aluminium bronze on the lathe to make tail-wing bushes. The plane will go into historical air displays – and I’ll have made a bit of it. Are men hardwired to tinker? It does seem to be predominantly men – but not all men. Jeremy isn’t interested in this sort of thing. But I really hate the expression "man caves", like we dribble harmlessly by ourselves out of the way. Sometimes we’re making interesting stuff and making a difference. I’d be happy to have some women making things in the show, too. Have you been surprised by the longevity of Clarkson's Farm? Yes, because he's not very practical. He's deeply afraid of anything physical or manual. It's given him a new purpose, which he possibly needed. Maybe it’s a big moment for all of us. We've paused to think about who we really are. What's your relationship like with Jeremy and Richard now you're no longer filming The Grand Tour? I’ve spoken to them a few times and I suspect we’ll go out for a beer somewhere – just because we can, not because we have to come up with some gags, plan a road trip or choose some cars, but for the hell of it. It’d be quite interesting. Jeremy's barred you and Prime Minister Keir Starmer from his pub. Are they both welcome in yours, The Royal Oak in Wiltshire? We're much more liberal-minded. A lot of the locals would have tough question s for Starmer but that’s what the pub is for, it’s a forum for debate. The latest issue of Radio Times is out now – subscribe here. James May & The Dull Men's Club is available to watch on Discovery+. Get a 7-day free trial for Discovery+ with Amazon Prime Video. Check out more of our Entertainment coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what else is on. For more from the biggest stars in TV, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
His boyish adventures in fast cars are over and James May is back tinkering in his shed but, he insists…
Add James May and the Dull Men to your watchlist After filming his final series of The Grand Tour, James May is back in his Wiltshire shed, where he’s been inspired by the Dull Men’s Club, an online community that attempts to solve “conundrums you didn’t know you had”. Can May cook a casserole in his washing machine while cleaning his whites, can he crack a walnut with a sledgehammer without smashing it to pieces —and is it possible to find a use for the too-short pencil stub? At 61, you’re being paid to mess about at home. Is this the dream? To get to this age and still be making a living from blundering about is great. I would be doing a lot of this even if the camera wasn’t there. I feel like I’m reverting to my 12-year-old self – I like to read books, play instruments and make things. As a child, what sparked your interest in making things? I struggled, and I still do, writing with a pen. Subconsciously I avoid anything that involves much writing in favour of things that are more practical, like Airfix and fixing bikes. I would never have made a living writing if I’d had to do it longhand. How was it, making James May and the Dull Men after filming your final instalment of The Grand Tour? It’s the difference between pottering and going out to work. We had 60 or 70 people on those big trips. While not arduous, it got quite intense and stressful. Here, it’s seven of us, which is relatively relaxed. Do you envisage more big adventures in the future? The Grand Tour is done and they don’t want any more of [travel series] Our Man In… so I don’t see much opportunity for more adventures. I’ve been extremely lucky to have seen a huge amount of the world, but as I get a little older, I’m getting more “nesty” – I’m content to be cooking, watching TV, listening to music – and going down YouTube rabbit holes looking at people making things. Is this an admission that you’ve become, or have always been, a “dull man”? I don’t think it is dull! I’m a bit bored with the idea that men are dull because they like going into their workshops or lofts to make things or paint pictures. I’ve argued with the producers and the channel about this – it’s meant ironically. I don’t think we should use it to beat men and say the era of “the bloke” is over. Some basic manly qualities are under threat. Many people mistakenly think it’s dull – but we’ll show them! Is there a mental health benefit to creating and mending things? Yes, I’m a bit of a fidgety, twitchy person, even more so as I age. I find doing quite focused, meticulous activities – putting things together or mending things – quite calming. What are your criteria for choosing the show’s activities? It has to be achievable by a dilettante-ish person, ie me. The producers thought we could build a motorcycle from scratch and I had to say no, that’s years of work. Some ideas were simply too boring: I don’t think there’s a science in the order you put things in a dishwasher, for example, or any great truth to be revealed. How much time do you spend in your shed? A few hours, three evenings a week. About half of that I’m on my own, sometimes my partner Sarah [Frater, an art critic and journalist] is there, writing or doing some gardening. I like these things to be integrated into the rest of domestic life. The cliché of “woman doing a tapestry in the sitting room while the bloke’s in the shed mending a lawnmower” is the death of a blissful home. How do you split domestic duties? I do internet, light bulbs and small domestic repairs; Sarah gardens. We’re fairly even-stevens on shopping and cooking. We spend quite a bit of time together at art galleries and exhibitions, but Sarah’s not that interested in lathe work, weirdly. She’ll say, “You go off and turn a large piece of metal into a much smaller one…” Are we in danger of losing some traditional skills in the modern world? I’m wary of the idea that skills are dying out. As far as I can make out, humankind can still do everything it’s been able to do. Some people can still thatch roofs, work lathes and do pargeting. People say, “We must get the young into bell-ringing or morris dancing, otherwise it’ll disappear” – but if it does, it’ll be because nobody was interested, in which case it doesn’t matter. I’m sure lots of so-called “traditions” disappear, but the good ones don’t. What have you been working on lately? A local charity, Navy Wings, has given me some parts to make the undercarriage of a Hawker Sea Fury plane. They have to be made accurately to be inspected and passed. I’m in the middle of turning aluminium bronze on the lathe to make tail-wing bushes. The plane will go into historical air displays – and I’ll have made a bit of it. Are men hardwired to tinker? It does seem to be predominantly men – but not all men. Jeremy isn’t interested in this sort of thing. But I really hate the expression “man caves”, like we dribble harmlessly by ourselves out of the way. Sometimes we’re making interesting stuff and making a difference. I’d be happy to have some women making things in the show, too. Have you been surprised by the longevity of Clarkson’s Farm? Yes, because he’s not very practical. He’s deeply afraid of anything physical or manual. It’s given him a new purpose, which he possibly needed. Maybe it’s a big moment for all of us. We’ve paused to think about who we really are. What’s your relationship like with Jeremy and Richard now you’re no longer filming The Grand Tour? I’ve spoken to them a few times and I suspect we’ll go out for a beer somewhere – just because we can – not because we have to come up with some gags, plan a road trip or choose some cars, but for the hell of it. It’d be quite interesting. Jeremy’s barred you and Prime Minister Keir Starmer from his pub. Are they both welcome in yours, The Royal Oak in Wiltshire? We’re much more liberal-minded. A lot of the locals would have tough questions for Starmer but that’s what the pub is for, it’s a forum for debate.
The actor on the joys of a Cork Christmas, austere teachers and working with Richard Curtis
Add That Christmas and Bad Sisters to your watchlist Irish actor Fiona Shaw is the true epitome of a star of stage and screen. Whether she’s popping up in classic films like Three Men and a Little Lady, the Harry Potter series and My Left Foot, treading the boards on Broadway with Medea or stealing the spotlight in hit TV series such as Killing Eve, Fleabag and Bad Sisters, Shaw always leaves an impression. Now, the 66-year-old is tackling a rare festive role in the Richard Curtis-penned animation That Christmas — though in some ways, it’s a role closer to home than any before. This year you’re starring in Richard Curtis’s new animation That Christmas, which explores festive family traditions — what were yours, growing up in Cork? We do sea swimming. We used to leave the church when we were young – there were three masses on a Sunday, and we’d leave after one and just drive off. We’d bring whiskey with us, and put it on our toes at the end of the swim – that was very much part of the tradition. Somehow, there’s a pre-Christian Christmas feeling – it’s something atavistic, almost Celtic. We swim to wash away the year, and to start anew. It’s a sort of baptism, isn’t it? You wash it away. Do you think Irish and English Christmases are different? Very much so. We’re still completely communal in Ireland. I was lucky enough to be brought up in a small city. We knew everybody, so we met a lot of people at Christmas, it was very social. I think maybe some English Christmases are about people retreating to their homes. But it’s much better when people come out and join each other. View oEmbed on the source website You’ve been acting for decades — what are the roles that people usually recognise you for? Well, if I’m in New York, people come up to me about Medea or The Testament of Mary. It’s quite a theatre world in New York, but it depends on the demographic. There’s a huge Killing Eve audience – huge. Nearly everyone in the street says that. With children it’s Harry Potter, and older children its Three Men and a Little Lady. I’ve done quite a few children’s films, I love it. They’re an audience who really watch, and they watch things repeatedly, so they know everything that you did. You’ve had such a wide range of roles, how do you pick them? You look for something that engages you. Most things do not, or are a repeat of something else. But I’ve been lucky enough to be offered unusual things, so I pick the ones that are really unusual, like True Detective: Night Country or Bad Sisters. What was it like, joining a tight-knit cast like Bad Sisters for the second series? They were so welcoming. They’re an incredibly good group, we had great fun – I loved being The Wagon [the nickname for her character, Angelica]! I hope they do more. I’d probably be out of it, but I hope they do, it’s fantastic. I thought this series was so confident. Sharon Horgan has really been able to spin plates with it. It’s fabulous. From one great writer to another — as this is your first time working with Richard Curtis, is that something ticked off your bucket list? I don’t think I ever think like that! But I’m very pleased I’ve worked with Richard Curtis. I was thrilled to be with him, he’s a lovely person. In That Christmas, you play a fearsome headteacher called Ms Trapper. Was she inspired by any of your own teachers? She wasn’t – the carapace already existed and I joined and tried to match my voice to it. But I did have two extraordinary headmistresses… You went to a Catholic girls’ school in Cork. Were the headmistresses very austere? One was called Kate Cahill – she was very austere. And her second-in-command was a woman called Mary O’Donovan, who only died very recently, at the age of 100. And they were both very much Ms Trappers! They were very keen on believing in the power of education – and they knew everything! Ms Trapper in That Christmas and Angelica in Bad Sisters are both quite isolated and lonely in a way — did you draw on a similar muscle to play both characters? It never crossed my mind that Ms Trapper was like Angelica, but you’re right. They’re people who are institutionalised. But I don’t think they overlap anywhere else. Is loneliness a side of Christmas that can get overlooked? I think so. Christmas is peculiar for everybody. There’s either the absent, or the lost, or something going wrong. I wince at films that say, “life is all saccharine and joy in everybody’s house but yours”. It’s much better to say, life is up and down, and Christmas is a really odd time. But if you can find some fun within it, that’s a good time. Christmas for me growing up was never about running away from people, it was about going towards people. That’s what the message of That Christmas is too – and it’s a good message.
Peter Mullan: "The Scots haven't got an equivalent of Happy Valley – and they should have"
Mullan spoke with Radio Times magazine about his role in New Zealand drama After the Party, which is airing on Channel 4.
This article first appeared in Radio Times magazine. Actor and director Peter Mullan, 65, has travelled to the other side of the world for his latest roles, in The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power and drama series After the Party. The part of Phil in the latter – father, teacher and suspected child abuser – was created for him by New Zealander Robyn Malcolm, the show’s co-creator, who plays his accuser and ex-wife, Penny. It’s a long way from Glasgow… You've starred in award-winning British dramas like Mum, hit US series like Ozark, and have just finished filming in New Zealand – do you just follow the work? Ideally, I’d work from home – I don’t like being away from my four kids – but it’s not always possible. I was on and off in New Zealand on The Rings of Power for six months, which included about five weeks on After the Party. If there’s half-decent money and the scripts are good, I’ll go where the money is! As a Scot, you're an outsider in After the Party. What was that like? I felt very at home. A lot of the Pākehā (the Maori word for non-Polynesian, ie European, New Zealanders) came from Scotland and Ireland, so we share the same humour and outlook. The Rings of Power team were really good about me fitting this in – I worked on it for six weeks and then went straight back. A lot of companies might have said, "We own you, we pay your wage, you have to stay around in case something changes." But they let me go. You’ve known Robyn Malcolm since you starred together in BBC2's Top of the Lake in 2013. Had you been looking to work together again? Yes, but when she sent me an early draft of After the Party, I said no! Why was that? I could see the potential but it wasn’t up to scratch – there weren’t enough shades of grey. I said as much to Robyn. But when she sent a revised script, I saw it could be something exceptional. Sometimes programmes that deal with dark subjects can get a bit dull, to be honest. If the message becomes more important than the drama, it doesn’t matter how worthy the intentions, it’s a turn-off. What blew me away is that it really held me for six episodes. It becomes not a whodunnit but a did-he-do-it? Intrigue makes for good drama. Do you like the mix of big-budget projects like Rings of Power and Harry Potter and smaller series? You can only do things for art if you’ve got money in the bank! I might do something for economic reasons, or I like the script, the directors and the actors – or I’ll do something for the kids, so they can come on set. On the set of Rings of Power, in all your dwarf prosthetics, did you ever wonder, "What on earth am I doing here?" The prosthetics is the hardest part for all of us. You’re up at 3am and you’re not on set until 7.30am. You’ve done half a day’s work when the rest of the gang is just starting. You’re only doing maybe an hour’s acting in a day, but it’s mentally and physically demanding. It’s very strange what it does to your head. You get quite claustrophobic. British TV is wrestling with representation of working-class people in drama. Are we making progress? No, sadly, we’re not. The output at the moment is poor, especially Scottish working-class drama. I can’t think of any major ones that have been made in the last decade, let alone any that were good. As far as I can tell, BBC Scotland is doing next to nothing about Scottish history, the Scottish experience, Scottish lives. The Scots haven’t got an equivalent of Happy Valley – and they should have. Is anything changing behind the scenes? We’re not making anywhere near the progress we should be. There has to be the will for it to happen. There’s not enough training programmes to get young working-class people into film and TV. It comes down to who you know, to nepotism. In most industries there’s an element of that but in film [and TV] there’s more. How confident are you that the new government can solve this? Do they have the will to invest in the creative arts? I would hope so! I vote SNP. Labour promised they would, so I hope my English comrades put pressure on the government to be true to their word. We’ll be putting pressure on the Scottish government, too, to ensure film, TV and especially theatre isn’t cut back. You were once such a young, working-class actor – how can someone in your position help to pay it back? As an actor, there’s not a great deal you can do beyond speaking out about it. Directing is different. My last film as a director, Neds, was in 2010 and I want to get back into it. I fully intend to make sure we get proper proportionality of working-class men and women. I wouldn’t discriminate against an actor because they’re posh, but at the same time I want to see greater representation. The latest issue of Radio Times is out now – subscribe here. After the Party will air from 9pm on Wednesday 20th November on Channel 4. Check out more of our Drama coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more from the biggest stars in TV, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.
Following good scripts and half-decent pay all the way to New Zealand
Add After the Party to your watchlist Actor and director Peter Mullan, 65, has travelled to the other side of the world for his latest roles, in The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power and drama series After the Party. The part of Phil in the latter — father, teacher and suspected child abuser — was created for him by New Zealander Robyn Malcolm, the show’s co-creator, who plays his accuser and ex-wife, Penny. It’s a long way from Glasgow… You’ve starred in award-winning British dramas like Mum, hit US series like Ozark, and have just finished filming in New Zealand — do you just follow the work? Ideally, I’d work from home – I don’t like being away from my four kids – but it’s not always possible. I was on and off in New Zealand on The Rings of Power for six months, which included about five weeks on After the Party. If there’s half-decent money and the scripts are good, I’ll go where the money is! As a Scot, you’re an outsider in After the Party. What was that like? I felt very at home. A lot of the Pākehā (the Maori word for non-Polynesian, ie European, New Zealanders) came from Scotland and Ireland, so we share the same humour and outlook. The Rings of Power team were really good about me fitting this in – I worked on it for six weeks and then went straight back. A lot of companies might have said, “We own you, we pay your wage, you have to stay around in case something changes.” But they let me go. You’ve known Robyn Malcolm since you starred together in BBC2’s Top of the Lake in 2013. Had you been looking to work together again? Yes, but when she sent me an early draft of After the Party, I said no! Why was that? I could see the potential but it wasn’t up to scratch – there weren’t enough shades of grey. I said as much to Robyn. But when she sent a revised script, I saw it could be something exceptional. Sometimes programmes that deal with dark subjects can get a bit dull, to be honest. If the message becomes more important than the drama, it doesn’t matter how worthy the intentions, it’s a turn-off. What blew me away is that it really held me for six episodes. It becomes not a whodunnit but a did-he-do-it? Intrigue makes for good drama. Do you like the mix of big-budget projects like Rings of Power and Harry Potter and smaller series? You can only do things for art if you’ve got money in the bank! I might do something for economic reasons, or I like the script, the directors and the actors – or I’ll do something for the kids, so they can come on set. On the set of Rings of Power, in all your dwarf prosthetics, did you ever wonder, “What on earth am I doing here?” The prosthetics is the hardest part for all of us. You’re up at 3am and you’re not on set until 7.30am. You’ve done half a day’s work when the rest of the gang is just starting. You’re only doing maybe an hour’s acting in a day, but it’s mentally and physically demanding. It’s very strange what it does to your head. You get quite claustrophobic. British TV is wrestling with representation of working-class people in drama. Are we making progress? No, sadly, we’re not. The output at the moment is poor, especially Scottish working-class drama. I can’t think of any major ones that have been made in the last decade, let alone any that were good. As far as I can tell, BBC Scotland is doing next to nothing about Scottish history, the Scottish experience, Scottish lives. The Scots haven’t got an equivalent of Happy Valley – and they should have. Is anything changing behind the scenes? We’re not making anywhere near the progress we should be. There has to be the will for it to happen. There’s not enough training programmes to get young working-class people into film and TV. It comes down to who you know, to nepotism. In most industries there’s an element of that but in film [and TV] there’s more. How confident are you that the new government can solve this? Do they have the will to invest in the creative arts? I would hope so! I vote SNP. Labour promised they would, so I hope my English comrades put pressure on the government to be true to their word. We’ll be putting pressure on the Scottish government, too, to ensure film, TV and especially theatre isn’t cut back. You were once such a young, working-class actor — how can someone in your position help to pay it back? As an actor, there’s not a great deal you can do beyond speaking out about it. Directing is different. My last film as a director, Neds, was in 2010 and I want to get back into it. I fully intend to make sure we get proper proportionality of working-class men and women. I wouldn’t discriminate against an actor because they’re posh, but at the same time I want to see greater representation.
"Predicting elections is an absolute mug's game"
Channel 4’s US election coverage will include Boris Johnson and Stormy Daniels – but it’s not a stunt…
Add America Decides: US Presidential Election to your watchlist Why should Brits stay up to watch the US election? It’s such high stakes. There are two major wars going on, one in Europe, one in the Middle East, and America’s role in both is absolutely pivotal. A lot of people thought the American experiment with Trump was over, and it clearly wasn’t – and with Kamala Harris taking over from Joe Biden, it’s not the election we at first thought it was going to be. Is America prepared for either outcome? Both candidates are quite unpredictable. Trump will not be the same President as last time, and Harris is relatively unknown. I don’t think anybody has a very firm handle on who they are and what they will be like in office. One of your guests on election night is Boris Johnson. Why? Boris couldn’t be a more pertinent guest. It’s clear, watching his promotional book tour, he thinks he can come back. He’s looking at Trump and trying to learn from him. But don’t be sidetracked into thinking this is a night with Boris Johnson. He’s going to make an appearance, we’ll have a conversation and then we’ll move on. You’ve also got former adult film star Stormy Daniels, who was at the centre of Trump’s hush-money trial, and TV personality Caitlyn Jenner. Are these stunt bookings? Not at all. They’re a really important part of the story of how America has got to this point. Daniels and Jenner will help us understand why America is so polarised. Donald Trump tends to dominate coverage. How do you ensure viewers don’t lose sight of what a Kamala Harris victory would represent? It’s a real challenge not to fall into that trap. If Harris wins, the story is not “Trump loses”. I don’t think the coverage so far has grasped that the US could have its first woman president and one with black and Asian origins. Hers is a real American success story. People are saying it’s one of the closest US elections ever. Would you stick your neck on the line and predict a winner? I’ve been covering US elections since 1992 and this is definitely the one where I would least like to say which way it will go. It’s an absolute mug’s game! What’s your secret for getting through a night of live TV? I don’t rely on food very much, because it makes your energy levels go up and down. For the UK election – at over 11 hours, the longest show I’ve ever done – I had one little chocolate interlude about halfway through. Green tea kept me going. Intermittent fasting has always been my default position in life.
The next three months are packed with top-notch entertainment, so RT helps you mark your card for what's coming up – with all the details and trailers you need to stay up to speed