Up Pompeii!

'A sort of Carry On Up The Forum' (Radio Times Magazine)

Up Pompeii combined saucy Carry On style comedy with elements of farce to produce a well-loved vehicle for Frankie Howerd, in the role of Lurcio, to 'tickle the fancy' of the entire British public.

Beginning with a 1969 pilot episode, running through 1970 and culminating in the 1971 film version, Up Pompeii was a runaway success. Fourteen BBC episodes were made, featuring a regular cast and guest stars such as Barbara Windsor, Pat Coombs, Geoffrey Hughes and Mollie Sugden. It is for Frankie Howerd's impeccably smutty delivery that the show is truly remembered, however, proving once again that there's always room on British television for plenty of sexual innuendo and camp capers.

The format of the show was simple but effective. Lurcio was the slave of government senator Ludicrus and his buxom wife, Ammonia. Every episode, despite its innocent beginnings, would expand into a complex, usually life (or at the very least job) threatening mess, from which Lurcio would escape only through the most ingenious wriggling. Howerd toyed with the role mercilessly, dropping in an out of character as he pleased, making mocking asides to the camera, playing along with the audience in his own distinctive way. Even the plot was subject to Howerd's good-natured mockery, as he'd call the viewer's attention to the implausibility of what was going on, questioning the standard of his fellow actors and the ability of the script-writers. Far from detracting from the comedy value, Howerd's presence made the show what it was, and was, in all probability, essential to the BBC being allowed to get away with the cheap polystyrene sets and dodgy-looking costumes. When they're pointed out to you by the star of the show and you're invited to laugh along, it's difficult to find anything to complain about.

The writers of the show, Talbot Rothwell and Sid Colin, were both writers for the Carry On series of films, which explains the smut and innuendo that found its way into Up Pompeii  Furthermore, the series itself owes much to the Sondheim musical A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To the Forum, in which Frankie Howerd had already taken two roles - that of Prologus and Pseudolus. Radio Times, in fact, accurately described Up Pompeii as 'a sort of Carry On Up The Forum'.

Following the success of Up Pompeii  the writers, along with Howerd, retained the format of the show but, in a move similar to that of the later Blackadder series, shifted to a different historical period. The film Up The Chastity Belt, 1971, featured the writing skills of comedy veterans Alan Simpson and Ray Galton in collaboration with Sid Colin, and repositioned Lurcio as Lurkalot, hapless serf in the Crusades. Up The Front, from 1972, pushed Howerd forwards as the under-footman Lurk. Back on the BBC, Whoops Baghdad attempted to set Up Pompeii in an Arabian Nights scenario, whilst a 1975 Up Pompeii special really signified the end of the franchise's success, though not the end of further cashing-in attempts.

There is no doubt, however, that Up Pompeii was, and indeed still is, a classic British comedy. With Howerd's larger than life stage presence, limitless supply of saucy catchphrases and an entire legion of risqué and witty names (Ambi Dextrus, Pussus Galoria, Scrophulus, Scrubba and Tittia are but five which spring to mind...), the show was pretty much bound for success, and well worth half an hour's hilarity out of anyone's busy schedule...

' As Cleopatra said to Marc Antony: if you liked it, tell your friends!' (Lurch)

Sources: BBC Website, IMDb, Beebfun

Janine Duvitski

Janine Duvitski was born in 1952 and is an English actress. She had an English mother and a Polish father; her original name of Drzewicki was probably abandoned as a stage name because the British public are still too lazy to figure out how to pronounce Polish. Duvitski moved to London early in life to train as an actress, and made her first forays into success with a couple of small television drama roles. Her first 'proper' role came about after she placed an advertisement and photograph in Spotlight magazine, and was invited to audition for a short play about incest. Although twenty years old, her audition was apparently convincing enough for her to win the role of the 13 year old girl. Further success followed, and after a few stage roles Mike Leigh spotted her and offered her the part of Angela in Abigail's Party - first the stage version, then the later television version.

That first role, with the incest and so on, is something of an oddity, being rather more serious than Duvitski's later roles. You see, over the years, beginning with Abigail's Party, Duvitski has cultivated a kind of dopey, naive charm and turned it into an art form. I've no doubt that in real life she's as sharp as a button but the character in Abigail's Party is a perfect example of Duvitski's metier. Mike Leigh's playscript calls for a meek and mundane character, and Duvitski plays it perfectly: she sits, completely out of place admidst the hostess, Beverly's, 'finery', and certainly is no match for the sophistication of the Sue character. 'I have very beautiful lips,' she goofily drools at Beverly, on command, while for most of the play her husband regards her with an expression of utter contempt. If you haven't seen Abigail's Party, of course, you have no idea what I'm talking about, so let's move swiftly on to Dennis Potter's 'Blue Remembered Hills'.

This excellent, deceptively cheerful play offers another chance for Duvitski to shine. Here she plays Audrey, a young girl clutching a dolly who is clearly as bright as a box of hair. Brilliant performances all round, of course, for the cast of this one; do try and see it.

Duvitski is also famous for her roles in Waiting For God, where she plays a rather dull-witted and simple woman, as Pippa Tench in One Foot In The Grave where she plays - wait for it - a rather dull-witted and simple woman. But please, don't be put off - she's brilliant at it. In fact, it would be a mistake to assume that Duvitski can only perform as a simple, dull-witted woman; her roles in the recent English National Opera production of On The Town and in Alan Bleasdale's Boys From The Black Stuff prove her versatility. The possibility of becoming typecast must always be a risk for any actor or actress... Duvitski flirts with it perhaps a little more than most, having accepted roles in The Madness Of King George and the 1979 version of Dracula, both of which involved playing mad women. But really, she's so good at it! There probably ought to be a separate category in the BAFTAs.

Duvitski is currently married to the actor Paul Bentall, with whom she has four children. That's not him in the picture; that's taken from the comedy series 'Benidorm', and she's standing next to actor Kenny Ireland.

At Home With The Snails

At Home With The Snails is a thoroughly odd British comedy series from Radio 4. It was originally broadcast in 2001, and the fact that I didn't even notice it existed until 2008 probably says something about its success and popularity. Because when I say 'thoroughly odd', I mean it.

There have been sitcoms about dysfunctional families before, but this has to beat them all. Over the four episodes of the first series we meet Alex Fisher, a boy obsessed with snails, his father George and mother Beverly. Beverly spends much of her time in the conservatory making 'nice things'. George, on the other hand, spends much of his time wiring up mikes and video cameras to observe his son. Alex's sister, Rose, meanwhile is entirely socially inept, selling 'chocolate excretions' in her sweet shop, but nowhere near as odd as Alex.

I mentioned that George was observing his son, apparently trying to write a book covering his slow descent into madness. And there's plenty to observe. Through nightmarish childhood gardening rituals, Alex has developed an unhealthy interest in snails. We progress from merely keeping them to allowing them to graze freely over his naked body, with cuttlefish nestled in various locations, cutting them in half and eating them raw with a visiting Frenchwoman, insisting on only sliding everywhere whilst wearing deely boppers and a backpack, not to mention spending hours rootling around the rubbish dump in search of Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen, so called because he decorates the walls with his slime.

At Home With The Snails was written by Gerard Foster and broadcast in 2001 with a second series in 2002. It stars Geoffrey Palmer, Angela Thorne, Gerard Foster, Miranda Hart and Debra Stephenson. The music, and if anyone could tell me what it is I'd be delighted, is fantastic. [Edit: Waltzinblack by The Stranglers; thank you anonymous commenter!]

Hattie Jacques

Hattie Jacques lived from the 7th of February 1922 until the 6th of October 1980, when she sadly died from a heart attack. At that time, without wishing to be melodramatic, the world was robbed of a British comedy legend. Oh, it's okay - it wasn't one of those clever, intellectual comedienne types or anything like that - it was, putting it plainly, a rather overweight woman with an amazing ability to squeal at Kenneth Williams, huff at Tony Hancock and slap Sid James. Many envy her for the opportunity to do that alone, forgetting the exciting opportunities she had to play matron, or Eric Sykes' sister.

I'm a big Hattie Jacques fan, if you can't tell, and I'm prepared to defend her slapstick style of British Carry On comedy to the death. Hattie Jacques worked with all the big, nostalgic names of British comedy, and I want to try and make it clear that this wasn't some sort of privilege for Hattie - quite the opposite. Hancock, Sykes, James and all the rest were working with someone special when they worked with Hattie. John Le Mesurier married her, although they did divorce later, so he doesn't get quite so many brownie points. That said, if you've read Hancock's biographies you'll know that the comedians of the sixties and seventies made a great show of laughter on set, seeming to run out when it came to everyday life.

Look; I'm going to tell you one of the classic British comedy moments. Hattie Jacques is playing a rather matronly matron of a set of British school girls. They need looking after, particularly in the chastity department. And Kenneth Williams, being Kenneth Williams, is behaving just like Kenneth Williams always does in these films, despite clearly being a screaming queen. Regardless, Hattie is explaining how she wants a little womanly attention: "I want to be wooed!" she declares. Bear in mind that Kenneth is adopting a dreadful speech impediment when he replies... nay, declares! "You can be as rude as you like with me!". And yes, that's basically the whole thing in a nutshell. Good old British slapstick, vaudeville, whatever you want to call it. And Hattie was a master at it.

So, enough unadulterated praise. The details. Hattie was born in Kent in 1922. She did the usual education stuff, worked as a nurse (good experience for those Carry On Doctor films, I suppose) and also as a welder. She began acting at the age of 20 and her rather chunky but undeniable charm led to her becoming popular for the more delicate roles. It's a pantomime thing.

She worked on It's That Man Again for a while, playing the aptly-named Sophie Tuckshop. In 1950 she made it onto Educating Archie and then began on Hancock's Half Hour in 1956. And, let's just pause to say that she's absolutely brilliant here. We might also consider how important the radio is in British comedy. I know we all enjoy Miranda, The League Of Gentlemen and The Day Today. Where did they all begin? That's right... radio. And that's nowadays, when the television is ubiquitous. Think back to when no-one had a television, when you paid money to go to the pictures if you wanted to see as well as hear. Radio ruled.

Speaking of the cinema... Carry On Films! After a couple of Norman Wisdoms she hurtled into the Carry On films and managed to appear in fourteen different ones, starring alongside a whole plethora of household names.

Sykes followed - a comedy vehicle for Eric Sykes, in which Hattie continued to play the type of roles she played so well. Sykes ran from 1960 to 1965, went off on a little holiday for a while, and then returned from 1972 to 1979. And, if you were paying attention at the start, that's when it all ends tragically. October the 6th, 1980. She was 58.

The Harpoon

The Harpoon is a British radio comedy which was broadcast to listeners of Radio 4 between 1991 and 1994. It enjoyed three excellent four-episode series, and an extremely good Christmas special, as well as the odd live appearance on one or two BBC Radio variety performances. The Harpoon was written by the well-known Peter Baynham and slightly-less well-known Julian Dutton, who were joined by Susie Brann, Mary Elliott-Nelson, Bryony Pritchard and Alistair MacGowan to perform the series. It was produced by Sarah Smith.

Each episode of The Harpoon is about half an hour in length, allowing a couple of minutes for the link to the next programme. The programme's setting varies considerably as different episodes focus on periods from Victorian times to the 1950s, and the series is written in such a way as to 'pretend' to be a printed magazine, 'The Harpoon', described as 'a magazine for young and old'. There's a feeling of adventure about the magazine, with story serials and tales of derring-do interspersed with historical titbits and how-to guides. It has that Sherlock Holmes narrative style to it, mixed in with the pomposity of early British public information films. To stick with the magazine metaphor, each sketch is separated from the next by the sound of a page turning, and the only slightly brutal editor opens with his 'Looking Ahead' section, often whilst killing various creatures, and closes the magazine with the letters page. The whole thing is performed with the most atrocious accents: dreadfully exaggerated Cockney is used for 'common folk', while only the best received pronunciation is saved for the upper class editor and narrators.

Interestingly, The Harpoon was recently broadcast on BBC 7. A quick Google search for 'radioarchive the harpoon' will bring up both of the original series. Blessings be upon bittorrent...