William Hall - Titter Ye Not!

Copyright Copyright Dedication Epigraph Foreword by Peter Rogers Preface 1 Early Days 2 Early Signs 3 Basic Training 4 On the Road 5 Radio Waves 6 Sunny Interlude 7 The Spice of Life 8 The Other Women … 9 Ups and Downs 10 … And The Other Men 11 Carry On 12 Bottoms Up! 13 In The Wars 14 Fond Farewell Epilogue Filmography Acknowledgements About the Author About the Publisher

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A Grafton Original 1992

Copyright © William Hall 1992

William Hall asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

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Source ISBN: 9780586217733

Ebook Edition © SEPTEMBER 2016 ISBN: 9780008219413

Version: 2016-09-08

Dedication

For Jeannie, Will, Juliette and Lena

with my gratitude for their inspiration,

support, and their patience.

Epigraph

‘A comedian need not necessarily be a humorous person. Indeed those who have been most successful in exciting laughter have often been men with a disposition towards melancholy.’

DOCTOR SAMUEL JOHNSON (1709–1784)

‘Oh titter ye not. No, listen. Lis-sen! Everyone is being very tittersome tonight.’ FRANKIE HOWERD (1917–1992)

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Epigraph

Foreword by Peter Rogers

Preface

1 Early Days

2 Early Signs

3 Basic Training

4 On the Road

5 Radio Waves

6 Sunny Interlude

7 The Spice of Life

8 The Other Women …

9 Ups and Downs

10 … And The Other Men

11 Carry On

12 Bottoms Up!

13 In The Wars

14 Fond Farewell

Epilogue

Filmography

Acknowledgements Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

About the Author

About the Publisher

Foreword

by Peter Rogers

It is easy to make unkind remarks about people. The very thought of them sometimes inspires bitchery that could rival Oscar Wilde or Noel Coward. But when it comes to saying kind things you find yourself at a loss for words, new words, words that haven’t been said before.

That is how I think of Frankie Howerd, how everybody I know thinks of him. What can you say about such a person? It was impossible not to like him. It wasn’t that magic ingredient misnamed Charm, the sort of thing usually associated with motorcar salesmen. Charm in Frankie would have been suspect. In fact, you could almost say that he was so completely lacking in charm that he actually charmed you. He grew on you, like friendly moss. You could never tire of his company because he was never aggressive or pushy. He didn’t talk about himself all the time as other actors do. He was a patient listener and always gave you the impression that he was interested in you and what you had to say. He made you feel wanted, possibly because that was how he felt himself. He, too, wanted to be wanted.

Professionally, he was a Master. He was the original Deliberate Mistake. No pause or hesitation in his act was unrehearsed or not carefully considered, and he had that gift of making you feel embarrassed for him as he walked up and down the stage looking as though he didn’t know what to say next. But he knew exactly what he was going to say next and exactly when. It was a very cunningly contrived ruse and quite original. And it worked every time. It was the most successful con trick of all time and every time it came off you admired the perpetrator more.

The most heartening and heart-breaking of Frankie’s appearances was the occasion when he appeared before the Oxford Union. It did your heart good to see the old trouper playing with such a young and critical audience and holding them in the palm of his hand. They loved him and he could do what he liked with them. I think that on this occasion if he had just stood on the stage saying nothing they would have loved him still because that’s what he was – someone to love.

In my own experience I know that I always looked forward to the day when Frankie was due on the set at Pinewood. I enjoyed watching him perform and I enjoyed meeting and sitting with him off-set. He never asked you what you thought of his performance, not because he wasn’t interested but, as was so natural to the man, he did not like to ask. To him such a thing was bad manners. And if you did praise his performance he would simply say: ‘You think so? Oh, good.’ It wasn’t said dismissively. He cherished your opinion, but didn’t want to be effusive. To him that would have appeared insincere.

It is a pity to have to talk about Frankie in the past tense. When I heard the news of his death I swore, as you would swear if you dropped your ice cream on your foot. That doesn’t mean to say that Frankie was no more important than a blob of ice cream. It means that his death was unnecessary. It seemed all wrong, a mistake, and I almost expected to hear that it was untrue, a rumour. Sadly, it was true and always will be. And that is the greatest pity of all. That dear amicable man is not here now and we notice the loss because he was so rare.

Preface