This Is Your Life: Coming Out From Behind The Sofa With Kenneth Williams

This Is Your Life was an institution. Only the crème de la crème of the entertainment business were to be sprung with the 'big red book' (that included, for a while, non-celebrities who had done extraordinary things in their lives) from the long running TV programme’s host, Eamonn Andrews.

Early in his broadcasting career Andrews was famous for coming up with off-the-cuff linkings which did not work – such as 'speaking of cheese sandwiches, have you come far?'  


Over the course of a short thirty-minutes that week’s ‘victim’ would be presented with a mini-biography of their life.

For me, keeping the secret was the biggest deal. During late December 1970 Carry On scriptwriter Talbot 'Tolly' Rothwell was up for the honour, and it was my dad’s job to make sure his nearest and dearest friends were aware of the impending recording.

The weekend before the surprise (and believe me, in those days it really was a secret) we were at Tolly’s Fulking home for an unseasonally warm get together. Of course, everyone was on egg shells as Tolly’s wife was constantly taking calls from the This Is Your Life production team.

The biggest scare was Tolly’s sudden insistence that he fancied taking part of the following week away. He couldn’t understand why his wife and daughters were so against a late Mediterranean break. 

But, as usual, the women got their way and Tolly vowed to whisk them away come Spring. So, he would be in London, at the allotted time, on the allotted day, and the 'big red book' would reveal the major achievements and events of his life.

Much to my father’s great disappointment he didn’t receive an invite to the recording. Instead we huddled around our small screened black and white television and watched what was to be Tolly’s proudest moment.

Following the airing of the programme Tolly held a thank you shindig in Fulking. It was a ‘bit of a do’ populated by many of the great and good of British Comedy, as well as the scene of my first face-to-face with the Carry On’s formidable producer, Peter Rogers.

A lovely man, as I was to discover over the years, but, to a socially-awkward youngster like myself, he emanated a presence that had me heading for the back of Tolly’s sofa!

At Tolly’s that winter’s evening, it was Kenneth Williams who was able to chop his producer down to my size. Of all the Carry On regulars who were there to raise a glass to Tolly’s success, it seemed that it was Kenneth alone who had the strength of personality to strip Rogers of his apparent air of superiority.

Kenneth would not back down on any topic raised by his employer. As Rogers spouted forth on all manner of topics, Kenneth would respond with a witty anecdote that would show he knew more about the topic than its instigator.

I gradually uncurled from the back of the sofa and was soon joining in the chorus of hilarity being raised from the battle of two such great minds. Rogers was soon crying with laughter, and Kenneth had his nose raised as he drew in the air of victory.  

A Write Carry On (Wholepoint Publications)

available early summer 2012


For A Free Sample CLICK HERE

Contact the author at editor@brighton.co.uk

The Great Escape: A Write Carry On At Stalag Luft III (POW Camp)

Carry On scriptwriter Talbot ‘Tolly’ Rothwell had remained particularly close to one fellow prisoner of war (POW). Peter Butterworth shared his humour and outlook, together they used their ability to construct witty camp plays to the advantage of all the POWs.

While plays and sketches were performed, escape was a possibility. The uproar of laughter easily distilled the rhythmic sound of men digging tunnels.

As the day’s routine of work and punishment gave way to an evening’s lock-down, Tolly and Peter would work hard on the next camp show script.

What the men, and some of the guards, loved most were the double entendres. They missed the warmth and intimacy of female companionship, and Tolly’s ability to conjure up magically side-splitting one-liners had them quoting his scripts for weeks on end.

Slowly but surely excess earth was moved and tunnels began to appear. The men would use the opportunity of the weekend camp performances to conceal the earth in their costumes and release it slowly into piles, while the guards were focused on the crossed-dressed dames who took centre stage.

They were then able to smooth it over with their feet and no-one was any the wiser as the men trooped back to their huts.

One cold winter’s night, after many months of planning, two teams of six men were ready to make their break for freedom.

Tolly and Peter were among those to remain, their services to camp moral and future escape projects deemed too important to lose.

All twelve escapees lost their lives. Ten while on the loose, two after being captured and brought back to camp alive. They were unceremoniously tied and gagged and dispatched by firing squad. With that, the camp concerts came to end.

Upon his return to England, Tolly was airlifted to Devon and to the seclusion of a Dartmoor-based military hospital. He was weak, his wounds were infected and his spirit broken.

Within days of his return his family was at his side. A month later he was allowed home, many months on he was still haunted by the atrocities he’d witnessed.

A Write Carry On (Wholepoint Publications)

available early summer 2012

For A Free Sample CLICK HERE

Contact the author at editor@brighton.co.uk

A Write Cricket Carry On: Afternoon Delights Best Served Off Of A Saucy Wicket!

Cover Designed & Created By Mandy Hills

Every blade of grass that cushioned my purposeful steps on the winding descent from the Devil's Dyke in Brighton to the welcoming bosom of the South Downs village of Fulking is remembered.

Its magic carpet qualities separated the urban bustle of the city from the tranquil timelessness of the all encompassing landscape dominance of the Downs.

The village's high-street ticked to a different time to the one I'd been programmed with since birth. People passed the time of day with either idle gossip or talk of coming local events.

Carry On scriptwriter Talbot ‘Tolly’ Rothwell was often to be found of a weekend attending the Preston Nomads village cricket club, a place where good humour was generous and the winning was a poor second to the good hospitality.

The wives and girlfriends would prepare afternoon tea and post match refreshment, while the men toiled both on the pitch and in their deckchairs. Children ran free and unsupervised. An idyllic memory remembered with fondness.

It was a place where Tolly seemed most at home. Cream teas, cricket and time-ticking slowly. At such places Tolly’s occupation never came up in conversation. No-one’s did. The moment was celebrated, and the toil and trouble that had gotten them there was, for long afternoons, forgotten.

----

I was staying in Fulking as my parents had once again been commandeered to house sit while Tolly and his wife Scotty took to the Mediterranean beaches for a week.

But that very morning Tolly was at home with a deadline looming and a plane due to depart Gatwick mid-afternoon. This was a man in work mode; no small talk and none of his usual poetic musings on nature and life. As dawn broke he slipped into his study and soon his typewriter hit a rhythm that didn't let up till way past the due flight time.

I’d never seen such creative intensity in action. I tiptoed around the house and took breakfast in a surreal hush. How could stilted silence breed such an outpouring of universally loved slapstick humour?

I’d always imagined that the Carry On humour was bred from improvisation. I had visions of Tolly pacing his house, loudly reciting lines and bringing himself to his knees as the double entendres kicked home and he celebrated his own genius. But I didn’t expect this.

Then again, where the Carry Ons were concerned, what you saw on the screen was very different from what was going on behind the scenes!

A Write Carry On (Wholepoint Publications)

available early summer 2012


For A Free Sample CLICK HERE

Contact the author at editor@brighton.co.uk