The Great British Sitcom

[Mel O'Drama]

Out of curiosity I took a peek at a couple of clips of Series 4 that are available online. They've done nothing to convince me I'm missing anything.

From what I've seen, there's no real chemistry among the cast. Without the original cast it all feels flat and lifeless and the few remaining original students, now visibly much older, seem somehow tired and bored. This shows up the dull writing. Even the production values aren't any better: I realise these are poor quality recordings, but it does sound like it's recorded in a large tiled bathroom rather than a small studio.

And the theme looks and sounds very Eighties in the worst possible way.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Last night I dived into the first five episodes of my next Britcom:

I have a bit of a mental block about the name of this series and keep confusing it with another father/son-themed ITV sitcom of the era: Don't Wait Up. Whatever I write in the next few posts, I am actually watching Home To Roost.

Unlike Mind Your Language, this is one I have heard of, and I can remember watching it sometimes, even if it wasn't a series I remember going out of my way to watch, nor one of which I have any specific memories. For me it fell into the category of a time-filler. I probably watched it by osmosis if someone else in the family had it on, or if it came on in between other programmes.

Watching these first episodes hasn't done a great deal to jog my memory... certainly not as far as the episodes themselves go. I know the opening and closing titles quite well and from the first episode last night could hum the tune (a jazzy instrumental version of Consider Yourself from Oliver!) with all its little quirky additional passages, so it's definitely been part of my world at some point.

Something I found moderately confusing is that this is a Yorkshire Television production yet seems to be set in London. Compounding this confusion, John Thaw and Reece Dinsdale's accents are difficult to pin down: I picked up frequent traces of Midlands or North West, but only upon listening carefully. Despite the opening credits featuring Tower Bridge, the series so far doesn't have a strong sense of place in the way that many do.

All the same, it feels very inviting. Henry's home feels very established and tangible and helping that is an instant familiarity as we walk between rooms. Parts of it resemble Simon Peel's home in Never The Twain, and there are hints of some other sitcoms some of the sets bring to mind. It's also likely that I partly remember it from watching the series almost four decades ago.

Eric Chappell has sitcom pedigree, having written for a number of other Yorkshire Television sitcoms prior to this: Duty Free; Only When I Laugh; The Bounder and perhaps most notably Rising Damp. His familiar wry, sardonic writing style is perfectly embodied by John Thaw's equally wry and sardonic Henry, whose singularly unimpressed greeting of his son after many years in the opening scene seems to sum up the entire premise.

The series really did hit the ground running with a first episode featuring just three characters - all regulars. In addition to Henry and son Matthew there was nosey cleaner Enid... and she only appeared briefly in a scene or two. The scenes are quite lengthy and verbose and extremely satisfying for their naturalism and lack of sing-song sitcom delivery. At times there's real anger and hurt behind the two men's words, which feels right for the situation. John Thaw's gruff, blustery style makes Henry an instant winner, and Reece Dinsdale does a decent job of matching his intensity. They're really suited to one another and I buy that they're father and son. With his puppy dog eyes and cheeky smile, Reece is like a Smash Hits/Look-In/Just 17 younger version of Thaw himself. Watching this I thought it a little surprising that I don't recall him being in anything since then and I wondered if he was one of those "of their time" actors. But it turns out he's more recently done stints in both Corrie and Emmerdale, so that's obviously down to me not paying attention.

Despite the requisite situational aspect of each episode, it feels like a very character-driven series. So far it's a strong start that's been incredibly easy to digest, and I have no hesitation in looking forward to the remaining 24 episodes.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

It was really nice to see Sheila Hancock (A.K.A. Mrs John Thaw) appear as Henry's former wife in the final episode of the first series. In fact it all worked so well it's a little disappointing to find this is the only episode in which she appeared. I could easily have seen her becoming a recurring character, arriving to darken Henry's door once in a while. And it would make sense considering the two characters share a son. Perhaps it was felt this (along with the housekeeper and single father raising his grown-up offspring) would be a one Father, Dear Father similarity too many.

And this reminds me to give some love for the non-traditional family setup. Many sitcoms have them, but I particularly appreciate that Home To Roost doesn't make a big deal of its setup and simply does its thing. It feels very much like a traditional sitcom in the way that it goes about its business so efficiently. Some of these stories would work in Bless This House or Terry & June, while the dynamic between the two men feels very much like that between Rigsby and Alan in Eric Chappell's earlier Rising Damp. It's safe, while avoiding being saccharine or sentimental.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Home To Roost's glaringly obvious parallel with On The Up - as watched earlier this month - only dawned on me last night: both feature former lead actors from The Sweeney, most commonly associated with tough guy dramatic roles. As previously mentioned, John Thaw's no-nonsense style works terrifically well here, and is a match made in heaven with Chappell's sometimes cynical writing.

As I begin Series Three, it seems Home To Roost has been given something of a mid-life refresh. The opening two episodes of the third year have seen more changes than any up to this point: gone is Matthew's Series Two mullet (phew!) and interfering housekeeper Enid Thompson (boo), respectively replaced by a short Eighties fade and a new housekeeper who initially thought she was applying to be Henry's companion. The haircut is a relief, but the jury is out on Fiona Fennell who hasn't yet done much to make an impression.

I had wondered about Elizabeth Bennett's reason for leaving the series and upon exploring was rather surprised to find that around the time of Series Two she'd simultaneously been playing housekeeper Enid Tomkins (as opposed to Thompson) in You Again? ...the American adaption of Home To Roost! Perhaps she was just all Enided out.

Other changes for Series Three is a slight update to the credits with a new font used for names, etc. It's not a change for the better, in my opinion, and already looks cheaper and dated. The mid-episode freeze is now replaced by a generic title card. And the house has been given a scripted makeover (to impress his brother - Nicky Henson whom I've recently been watching as a recurring guest on Give Us A Clue). Despite scripted comments that there's now too much white which will be difficult to keep clean, the new decor is similar to the old but has the overall effect of looking darker and more oppressive. Henry has also acquired a stripey suite, not unlike that one that did the rounds on Sons And Daughters (Beryl Palmer somehow inherited it from Margaret Dunne) before moving over to Home And Away.

As I write, I realise I'm casting all the changes in a negative light. It's true that most of them are for the worse, and I do wonder if perhaps I've seen the best of the series. At this point, however, the writing is still solid. Since that's really the beating heart of the series, I foresee myself greatly enjoying the remaining episodes.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

As I begin Series Three

One day later and I've now finished Series Three. Apart from the Christmas Special (which took me ages to find in readiness as it is inexplicably hiding on the final disc of Series Four).


A couple of annotations to my earlier thoughts:

the jury is out on Fiona Fennell who hasn't yet done much to make an impression

I'm enjoying Fiona at this point. She has felt like less of a presence in the house. I think it's because her character is more difficult to get a handle on in some ways since she seems to spend more time actually doing her job than Enid who had a propensity for hovering and earwigging. Middle class Fiona is probably less your stereotypical char as well. Overall, though, she's been used well, if judiciously.

I've recently been seeing Rising Damp parallels everywhere. Henry's dialogue is incredibly Rigsbyesque at times (though his mannerisms and facial expressions put me in mind more of Donald Sinden than Leonard Rossiter). The Rigsby thing is probably never more evident than in the High Spirits episode where I'm sure he reacted to the seances and ghost-watching exactly as Rigsby would. Matthew alternately takes Alan and Philip's part. Romantic-but-reserved Fiona is far more noticeably Miss Jones than Enid was. Which is no bad thing.

the new decor is similar to the old but has the overall effect of looking darker and more oppressive. Henry has also acquired a stripey suite

Perhaps this was noted at the time, since it seems to have changed again. The walls seem to be a lighter colour, and the suite is a more tastefully muted job. The Willows seem ready for the Nineties.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

I'm enjoying Fiona at this point.

And just as that happens, she vanishes. I've now watched the Christmas Special that followed Series Three and I've also got more than half of Series Four under my belt and Fiona hasn't appeared at all. What's more, she hasn't even been mentioned. It's disappointing and it has changed the dynamic a little, even though it still works fine.

In her place we've had two return appearances from Henry's daughter/Matthew's sister Julie. There was even a bratty younger sibling who showed up in the Christmas special. This added yet more confusion to the lack of sense of geography in this series since all the characters in this family seem to have different accents. Henry and Matthew both have a hint of Manchester to their accent, but the younger son sounded Scouse, and Julie seemed to mirror this by having a touch of Liverpool in just this episode.

Henry's dialogue is incredibly Rigsbyesque at times (though his mannerisms and facial expressions put me in mind more of Donald Sinden than Leonard Rossiter). The Rigsby thing is probably never more evident than in the High Spirits episode where I'm sure he reacted to the seances and ghost-watching exactly as Rigsby would.

This is becoming increasingly pronounced as the series goes on. In Series Four, Henry is at times Rigsby in all but name. It really feels as though John Thaw is modelling his performance after Leonard Rossiter. Perhaps it's due to him becoming more comfortable with comedy and wanting to push things. Henry's style has become more broadly comedic as the series has gone on. He's almost an object of ridicule at times, getting into farcical scrapes and embarrassing imbroglios. It all works, but the character feels rather less grounded.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Home To Roost wrapped up on O'Dramavision last night, appropriately with an episode where Matthew once again left the nest to go to college.

This often seems to be the case by the end of a sitcom's run, but I really do feel it was time to end (rare is the sitcom I want to go on and on and on). It certainly hadn't worn out its welcome, but neither did it leave me wanting more.

In order to continue, it was necessary for the series to change and move slightly away from the specific "father and son struggling to live together" premise. This felt less restrictive, opening up more comedic options in the latter episodes as the situations became broader and broader, but as a result it also felt a little more generic. Many of the situations in the last two series feels more like a moveable feast which could be transferred to or from any old sitcom. In short, the series had somewhat lost the original USP which made it feel special and drew me as a viewer into the series.

The relationship between Henry and Matthew remained essential to the series, but while much of the changes in their dynamic changed through their growth, this was less clear because of the more forced changes in the series: first the loss of Enid and then - just as she clicked with me - the disappearance of Fiona. Both of these were perhaps another reason for the move away from the titular "home" and into hotels, workplaces, abandoned railway stations and, finally, college dorms, each of which made a change but felt less cosy and specific.

It seems interesting for a sitcom that the final episode not only included a character who was strongly implied to be gay, but also explicitly discussed attitudes towards homosexuality with reference to Matthew's gay uncle. Matthew was shown to be more liberal-minded than Henry, but only up to a point (there's a scene early-ish in the episode where Matthew literally refuses to turn his back on his roommate as Matthew walks away, the suggestion being that he fears being sexually assaulted if he leaves his bottom undefended). Regardless, it seems a bold subject matter given it came at a time when AIDS-hysteria-related-homophobia was rife and Thatcher was still PM. Perhaps it represents something of a watermark, and it's perhaps telling that by the end of the year it aired Thatcher's era was over.

Similarly, an episode earlier in the final series has broached the topic of faith when Peter Butterworth's son came to stay, his being a member of the cloth disturbing confirmed atheist Matthew. Again, I can't think of other likeable lead sitcom characters of the time who would be out and proud atheists. If not a bold choice, it's certainly not the safe option, and I think that's to be admired.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

I'm currently reading With A Crack In Her Voice, John Miller's 1998 biography of Judi Dench (endorsed by Judi herself). Naturally, most of the book covers her extensive theatrical career, but it's pleasing that it's written while Judi was still filming As Time Goes By, so there have been a few nice little interludes with visits to rehearsals, read-throughs and sets of that series, and interviews with the likes of Geoffrey Palmer (also starring in Mrs Brown with Judi as the book was written).

A Fine Romance felt like it was covered extremely quickly - in around three or four sides. All the same, it's lovely to see that it's spoken of very fondly.

There's a really nice backstory about Bob Larbey writing Mike with Michael Williams in mind. Head Of Comedy, Humphrey Barclay asked Bob who he's like to play Laura in his dream world and he said Judi's name and laughed. It seems everyone was surprised when Judi - having been sent the script said "I think it's rather nice and I think I might like to do it, but is there any chance that Michael could do the other part".

Judi was nervous and asked for a director she knew and trusted and suggested James Cellan-Jones. When JCJ was approached about the project, he agreed as long as there was an actress he approved of in the lead role, and he suggested... Judi Dench!

Judi was not at this point the National Treasure she has since become (it's entirely probable that A Fine Romance was what really got the mainstream public familiar with her name as well as face)

This is confirmed in the book. Judi is said to have been "amazed by the audience response, the recognition in the street, and having champagne brought to her and Michael on an aeroplane; she said she didn't know things like that happened to television celebrities."

There is one rather peculiar fourth wall moment I'm less sure about, however. It comes eight minutes into the first episode. Laura is mingling with the guests by offering everyone cocktail sausages, and as the camera sweeps in she holds the tray directly to camera, looks down it at us and offers us a sausage. I don't know if this was an ad lib, scripted or added by JCJ. It feels a bit unnecessary, but on reflection it could also be akin to watching a live theatrical performance where an actress gets a little carried away by the energy they get from the audience and throws in a little unexpected interaction. These little moments of direct connection and acknowledgement are often those a live audience appreciates most, so it could be viewed as a nice little bonus just for us.

The book addresses this bizarre moment as well, in a quote from Humphrey Barclay:

In the very first episode, when she and Mike met at a little drinks party given by her sister, Laura was handing round little sausages on sticks and she suddenly offered one to camera and moved swiftly on, which broke all the rules. Jimmy said "Let's keep it in", and I said "Yes, lovely, let's keep it in". Normally you'd say "Well, yes, if you're going to do that as a stylistic thing we must do it quite often in the series." But she only did it that once, a piece of impishness, probably because she wanted the camera crew to have as much fun as everybody else.

Oh, and apparently when LWT's Director Of Programmes was pressing everyone to do more episodes after they'd wrapped, Judi made a counter-proposal, suggesting a big screen version of the series. Now that could have really been something!

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Has it really been under seven months since Home To Roost? It feels like twice that.

A lot of soapy water has passed under the bridge since then but I'm back in sitcom land with...

It felt a little sad to crack open a new boxset from my favourite DVD manufacturers/distributors, the late, great Network. This was mitigated by knowing that I still have quite a number of their releases lined-up to watch in due course.

Sykes is yet another series I know by reputation alone. I've never watched an episode and don't recall repeats being part of the schedules when I was young (though I dare say they were). Hattie Jacques's presence has long made this an attractive watching prospect for me. And occasionally skimming through information on the series has only increased my appetite when I've seen some very familiar names from British comedy and light entertainment listed.

Perhaps surprisingly, the least-known quantity for me is Eric Sykes himself. I have, of course, watched numerous projects in which he has made a guest appearance - from dinnerladies to One Foot In The Grave to Summer Wine - but, frankly, he's never made much of an impression upon me. And I don't believe I've watched anything in which he had anything more than a cough and a spit. So far I'm still underwhelmed. Don't get me wrong: he's fine, but I'm not getting the immediate charismatic magnetism of, say, Leonard Rossiter, nor the sense of comic genius that one can't help but find when watching someone like Ronnie Barker. Sykes's style might be of the subtle variety that takes a while to read. It's only been three episodes for me, and I'm open to the idea that I may "get" him if I continue watching. Even if I don't, there's nothing that I've so far found off-putting or unattractive about his style.

Hattie is as reliable as ever. It comes across that she's enjoying Eric's company and they work well together.

The standout for me has been the third regular player: Richard Wattis. Richard's face is very familiar to me, as it will be to anyone who's indulged in British film and television from the Fifties and Sixties. He's so unchanging, and it's pleasing that he has quite a significant role in this series. Snobby neighbour Charles Brown is enjoyably prickly and acerbic, and Richard plays him to perfection. He's a very generous and giving player, never intentionally stealing the limelight from Eric and Hat, but still having great presence. I find him easier to get a handle on than I do Eric, but perhaps that's because his character is more defined and a little more broadly written.

A fourth player slipped in during the third episode. Deryck Guyler's appearance as Constable Corky Turnbull felt like a one-off on the surface, but IMDb confirms he will appear in more episodes than not.

Coming to this immediately after watching Brookside - a more realistic series filmed entirely on location - I'd feared the sets might be a bit of a shock. Actually, I'm finding them fine (a scene utilising the indoor outdoor set of the studio-bound street in front of the house was actually very charming). All the same, the series does feel incredibly static, twee and slow. Not that it will stop me continuing.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

the series does feel incredibly static, twee and slow. Not that it will stop me continuing.

With me and sitcoms, it's a common theme for me to watch half a dozen episodes or so and then wonder whether the writing is improving or I'm simply warming to it.

Twelve episodes in - three quarters of Series One - I'm certainly warming to the series, and to Eric Sykes himself. There's no denying that many episodes have felt rather long and slow, though, and 68 episodes still feels like a rather daunting prospect.

It's definitely not a belly laugh series for me. It's a warm, comforting kind of vegging-out and - if I'm lucky - a few titters. With a series of this nature, sometimes the more predictable the better. Probably the first episode to click with me was the ninth, in which snooty neighbour Mr Brown had an accident caused by Eric and pretended to be seriously injured so that he could have guilt-wracked Eric and Hat doing his bidding. It's a sitcom staple, and no worse for it.

There have been occasional glimpses of surrealist fantasy - such as Eric dreaming that he and Hat are mice - that have been tolerable in small doses.

The guest-cast has been impressive, as well as a number of smaller roles played by actors who would become household names. So far, among others, we've seen Joanie Sims; Peter Sellers; Frank Thornton; Roy Kinnear; Joan Hickson; Jimmy Edwards; Felix Bowness (several times - I think they're different characters); Harold "You've all done very well" Bennett; Diane Holland (best known as Hi-de-Hi's Yvonne, but last seen in O'Dramavision in Crossroads); Gretchen Franklin and - of course - Hat's very own John LeMesurier. Rare is the episode when there aren't one or two "oh it's so-and-so"s, and these are certainly help pass the time quite nicely.

 

[Angela Channing]

I only remember ever watching one episode of Sykes because I think it was broadcasted at 9pm on Fridays which was after my bedtime (I was very young at the time).

I remember when I was in infant school, some of my classmates saying on the previous night they were filming for an episode on Horsenden Hill in North West London, not far from where I was brought up. When that particular episode was screened the show had moved to a midweek slot ( I think Tuesday at 7pm) so I was able to watch it. I sat through it all, only moderately amused by it all (like you said, it's not a belly laugh type of sitcom) and the scene I was waiting for was literally only a minute at the end of the episode and only the final few seconds were recognisable at being Horsenden Hill. When you get to it on your watch, it's the one that ends with a shot of Hattie walking on the hill and her coat has handprints on the back indicating that she was in an embrace with a man while while she was there.

The standout for me has been the third regular player: Richard Wattis. Richard's face is very familiar to me, as it will be to anyone who's indulged in British film and television from the Fifties and Sixties. He's so unchanging, and it's pleasing that he has quite a significant role in this series. Snobby neighbour Charles Brown is enjoyably prickly and acerbic, and Richard plays him to perfection. He's a very generous and giving player, never intentionally stealing the limelight from Eric and Hat, but still having great presence. I find him easier to get a handle on than I do Eric, but perhaps that's because his character is more defined and a little more broadly written.

For many years I thought Richard Wattis was a serial killer so I never warmed to him until I realised my mistake. It all stemmed from a visit to Madame Tussaud's when after seeing the waxwork of John Christie, I was convinced it was Richard Wattis (I think I was around 8 at the time). This is a picture of the waxwork so you can see why a young child could make the mistake.

she was tehre

 

[Mel O'Drama]

I think it was broadcasted at 9pm on Fridays which was after my bedtime

Oh, interesting. It feels quite early-mid evening light entertainment to me. If I'd guessed I'd have said it broadcast around 7 or 7:30pm. Certainly not after the 9pm watershed. It goes to show how very different the TV landscape was.

I remember when I was in infant school, some of my classmates saying on the previous night they were filming for an episode on Horsenden Hill in North West London, not far from where I was brought up. When that particular episode was screened the show had moved to a midweek slot ( I think Tuesday at 7pm) so I was able to watch it. I sat through it all, only moderately amused by it all (like you said, it's not a belly laugh type of sitcom) and the scene I was waiting for was literally only a minute at the end of the episode and only the final few seconds were recognisable at being Horsenden Hill. When you get to it on your watch, it's the one that ends with a shot of Hattie walking on the hill and her coat has handprints on the back indicating that she was in an embrace with a man while while she was there.

What a great story. I had wondered about some of the filming locations for exteriors, so I'll keep an eye out for that one.

For many years I thought Richard Wattis was a serial killer so I never warmed to him until I realised my mistake. It all stemmed from a visit to Madame Tussaud's when after seeing the waxwork of John Christie, I was convinced it was Richard Wattis (I think I was around 8 at the time). This is a picture of the waxwork so you can see why a young child could make the mistake.

Oh wow. He does look quite similar, and yes, I can fully understand why that idea would have taken root in a young imagination.

I'm glad you eventually found out you had the wrong man.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Truthfully, Sykes feels like a bit of a trudge. It's endearing enough and certainly not without its moments, but it does feel a bit plodding and flat. Perhaps it just hasn't aged well. Or perhaps breaking it up with Brookside every few episodes isn't doing it any favours.

One fascinatingly meta moment came in one of the most recent episodes where Hat settled down to watch television. The theme from Sykes could be heard playing, prompting this response:

Oh, I like this programme. Some people say I look like her.

It's getting into surrealist territory, but somehow felt exciting at the same time to think there's a British comedy multiverse. Which may explain the plethora of familiar faces playing familiar characterisations in different settings.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

After a bit of a gap, Series Three of Sykes commenced last night.

Continuity is certainly not this series' strong suit. Facts seem to change according to whatever is needed for the script (though I suppose it could possibly have something to do with the order in which the scripts from the earlier series Sykes and a... are recycled). In earlier episodes we've seen Hattie's Morris Minor Convertible, and Eric employed as a chauffeur. Yet in The Stolen Bentley it's mentioned that neither of them has a driving licence. Ah well, it was the Seventies, after all.

Following Series Two I found myself putting off recommencing, and I'm not even sure I can explain why. It's not a bad series. Yes, it's a bit slow and samey, but this is part and parcel of the cosy British sitcom. Part of me wants to cheat and find an excuse to opt out of the series and move on to something else. The only thing that stops me doing that is that I suspect I'd never come back to Sykes, and the completist in me wants to finish the job.

Thinking about it, I'm thinking the series is fun and entertaining in its original setup of a weekly sitcom, but simply doesn't translate to watching back-to-back episodes as a box set. I'm usually quite orderly about how I watch these things and it's customary for me to completely immerse myself in a series and watch beginning to end. This feels like a longer haul because I find myself needing to slow down the pace.

Seven series feels like a huge undertaking when it's taken me a month to watch just two. But I must also remember that the first couple of series are longer than the rest, and in just another couple of episodes I'll be halfway through the entire lot.

It's sad to think that this third series is the final to feature Richard Wattis as Charles Fulbright-Brown. I'm feeling the series might become less watchable still with him absent, since he's such great fun and a bit of a scene-stealer. On the other hand, I understand that Richard's absence necessitates some changes to the format, with a new neighbour moving in. Perhaps a change in dynamic will keep things green.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Series Three of Sykes is over which means, sadly, I've now watched every episode featuring Richard Wattis.

As mentioned above, I'm curious to see what happens next. I know there will be a new next-door neighbour and I believe it's a woman which is probably best since it will hopefully mitigate the potential for direct comparison.

With Richard's death apparently being so sudden, I imagine most Series Four episodes might have been written with him in mind... particularly since most scripts are remakes of material done with this series' original team in an earlier series.

While he didn't get a memorable final line (I can't remember the last thing he said as he said very little in the final scene, and what he did say was some time before the episode finished), there were at least some memorable moments since the episode featured a number of flashbacks to fifteen years earlier.

It was good fun to see the cast playing younger versions of themselves, with Richard in a wig with a small parting that made him look genuinely younger (and a bit more eccentric) and Sykes and Deryck Guyler apparently being treated with Grecian 2000. Hattie's hair was mostly hidden under a big hat, giving her younger self a different look as well. Most impressive here was the set (re)dressing, where the familiar living room was given completely different furniture, wallpaper and even doors to make it feel like a completely different time. I was surprised how contemporary and airy the "usual" set felt once we returned to "present" day.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Last night I had a go at watching a couple of episodes from the Fourth Series of Sykes.

Both of them have been "away from home" episodes - one featuring a skiing holiday and the other a break in a caravan - so it's difficult at the moment to get a feel for how the series properly feels without Richard Wattis. I wondered if this is deliberate... either so it would be less jarring for viewers, or to give Eric and the production team the chance to retool and decide what changes will be necessary at Sebastopol Terrace with new neighbours, etc.

However, it turns out I accidentally skipped the first S4 episode (which was stuck on the end of the disc with the latter S3 episodes) and instead I watched the second and third episode. Depending where it's set, this could blow my "change of scenery to retool" theory out of the water.

Even with the locations changing the dynamics almost as much as Richard Wattis's absence, it's still been interesting to try and work out if anyone is "filling in" for him, which could be one of three things:

1. Lines that were originally spoken by Richard Wattis in Sykes And A...
2. Lines that were written with him in mind for this series
3. Characters who are deliberately written to serve a similar function to Fulbright-Brown (even knowing about Wattis's death)

It's difficult to say which, if any, is the case which is no bad thing. Based on these two episodes, there's not a direct replacement. The boastful Captain character on the Bavarian ski trip, however, served a similar function up to a point, though he was played quite differently and is certainly very physically different.

Deryck Guyler's role appears to have been beefed-up a little. While Corky has always been on very friendly terms with the Sykeses, here he's notably less peripheral. Rather than popping up unexpectedly, he's more in the thick of things. In the Bavarian episode he's with them all the time, evidently staying in the next room (effectively becoming the "neighbour"). In the caravan episode he's even the feuding neighbour, playing Corky with the same competitive - almost antagonistic - traits we're used to seeing in Charles Fulbright-Brown.

It's speaks volumes that I've spent as much time speaking about Richard Wattis here as I have the people who actually appear in the episodes. Based on these two episodes, I was certainly right to suspect that he'd be badly missed. I have to bear in mind, though, that these aren't "standard" episodes set at home in the familiar lounge. They were enjoyable enough, but time will tell if I settle into the new order and get over the feeling that something is missing.

I'm well past the midway point of the entire run now, which I think is long enough to reach the conclusion that Eric Sykes himself just isn't my cup of tea. Of course it's impressive that he wrote the entire thing, and there's no denying that he is very in the moment and ad libs really well, but with this broad kind of comedy which could be viewed as relying on certain archetypes, so much is dependent upon finding the screen persona endearing, and in the case of Eric (who I suspect is pretty much playing himself) I just don't. I'd liken it to the kind of experience I had in the Carry Ons with Jack Douglas, or in Nearest And Dearest with Jimmy Jewel (and Hylda Baker to a lesser extent, now I think about it). At some point I had to accept that their schtick wasn't going to change and learn to tolerate them.

It hasn't helped matters that I've read about Eric treating Hattie extremely poorly when they were on tour with A Hatful Of Sykes from 1976-79. Even though I suspect the answer is "no", I'm curious to see if the strain between them shows onscreen in the last couple of series.


I adore the rest of the ensemble and guests, but when the person after whom the series is named is (in my view) the weak link, it's going to colour the experience as a whole.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

There's a morbid fascination to seeing how the sad, sudden loss of Richard Wattis translates to on-screen sitcom episodes which is really my only frame of reference given my lack of insight into what discussions were had and decisions taken. And what comes across in Sykes is a writer and ensemble struggling to regain footing.

Having watched the whole of Series Four, I now know that the first four episodes all took place away from Sebastopol Terrace and that familiar living room set. The reasons for this aren't clear. As I previously surmised, it could well be something done to gain some time to decide what the new home life would look like. Or to more easily recycle Sykes And A... scripts which either hadn't featured Fulbright-Brown or could be easily adapted.

It's also occurred to me that staying away from home could be an attempt to avoid awkward questions from the audience. By the time we returned there we were in the latter part of Series Four, so perhaps it was hoped that viewers would simply forget. It's certainly worth noting that Fulbright-Brown hasn't been even implicitly referenced. Through Twenty-First Century eyes, this seems rather dismissive of the Richard's importance to the series and, I would hope, the cast. The message seems to be that the loss of a key character from a small ensemble is so unimportant that it doesn't even require an explanation or acknowledgement.

Yet bearing in mind the times, it also feels inevitable. It's all guesswork, but one comes to feel that Sykes or the Beeb felt maintaining a dignified silence was the preferred option. Perhaps there was a fear that even mentioning the character's name would invoke a harsh reality for which there is no place in sitcom world. I can respect this, yet at the same time it feels there is very much an elephant in the room that has been unacknowledged. The loss of this comfortably familiar face is actually compounded - not helped - by the absence of the comfortably familiar cosy set for the first two thirds of the series. And so the viewer struggles as much as the cast might be.

Naturally, whatever struggles are going on behind the camera don't come across on screen. That is, not specifically. As mentioned, there's just a strange lifelessness to the series which I already found a little dry and flat anyway.

The good news is that, upon returning to Sebastopol Terrace, the absence of Richard Wattis is mitigated by the presence of Joan Sims. Having been mentioned regularly, Madge Kettlewell appeared in two consecutive episodes. And it did help. Hers is such a familiar face and warm presence that it softens the blow significantly. Indeed, Marriage - with its sitcom standard of crossed wires leading to a reluctant bridegroom - is one of the series' most enjoyable episodes so far. What a shame she won't appear again until one final outing towards the end of Series Six.

As much as I enjoy Deryck Guyler, I also feel his increased presence isn't an improvement on his scene-stealing smaller role in earlier series. He was a bit of a caricature to begin with, and making Corky a more central character has a negative impact on the series as a whole. The increased dialogue has also highlighted Deryck's tendency to end sentences with pause then a throwaway "you see" (popular during the era with actors trying to sound terribly grand during interviews. See also: Jimmy Jewel). All the same I'm glad he's here and I find him an avuncular presence.

Having begun Series Five, I can confirm it's more of the same. Hat remains as reliable as ever, and Sykes remains perfectly tolerable so long as he doesn't start going overboard or trying to work the audience.

Perhaps it's not a good sign that Lodgers, the latest episode I watched, felt like the longest to date. A lengthy scene of Eric destroying every item in the room while he and Corky moved a bed in the latter's bedroom felt interminable and painfully unfunny. Physical comedy is one of those things one has to be an absolute master at in order for it to work, and here it just felt like watching the class clown reaching new levels of desperation in trying to make everyone laugh.

 

[Angela Channing]

It's also occurred to me that staying away from home could be an attempt to avoid awkward questions from the audience. By the time we returned there we were in the latter part of Series Four, so perhaps it was hoped that viewers would simply forget. It's certainly worth noting that Fulbright-Brown hasn't been even implicitly referenced. Through Twenty-First Century eyes, this seems rather dismissive of the Richard's importance to the series and, I would hope, the cast. The message seems to be that the loss of a key character from a small ensemble is so unimportant that it doesn't even require an explanation or acknowledgement.

I didn't really watch Sykes when it was broadcast and my memory of the show is just a bit more than almost zero so my following comment is a general one which may or my not be relevant in this particular case.

When a prominent cast member of a long running series dies, it leaves a dilemma for those in charge and whatever they do well not satisfy everyone. If they ignore the character's absence, like they appear to have done in Sykes, then viewers will share your frustrations but mentioning it not always easy because death in a comedy, particularly one prompted by a real life one, isn't a great topic for generating laughs.

They could do what they did in Dallas when Jim Davis died and just pretend that the character was still alive but many saw that as being disrespectful and that would also be the case if they recast the role (recasting is often my preference). Doing a time jump by setting the show in another location for a while before returning to their familiar location suggests that the remaining characters have moved on from the death with the passage of time allowing the show to proceed without getting too morbid. It's not an ideal solution but it not a terrible one either. It's not a million miles from what they did in Crossroads when Roger Tongue died. His character Sandy wasn't mentioned at all until an appropriate amount of time had passed and then in was covered in a brief but respectful scene, not making a big storyline out of it. However, it's easier to take that approach when there is a larger cast with characters disappearing and reappearing on a regular basis.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

When a prominent cast member of a long running series dies, it leaves a dilemma for those in charge and whatever they do well not satisfy everyone. If they ignore the character's absence, like they appear to have done in Sykes, then viewers will share your frustrations but mentioning it not always easy because death in a comedy, particularly one prompted by a real life one, isn't a great topic for generating laughs.

Oh, I absolutely agree. As I alluded to in my post I can understand the reasons behind it given the fact it's a sitcom and episodic, as well as being in an era where such things were frequently glossed over.

They could do what they did in Dallas when Jim Davis died and just pretend that the character was still alive but many saw that as being disrespectful and that would also be the case if they recast the role (recasting is often my preference). Doing a time jump by setting the show in another location for a while before returning to their familiar location suggests that the remaining characters have moved on from the death with the passage of time allowing the show to proceed without getting too morbid.

It's definitely a tricky area and, as you said, no matter what's done there will be some who aren't satisfied.

I don't think Sykes is the kind of series that could get away with killing off a regular character, or even referencing their offscreen death. What's bothered me, though, is that they haven't even acknowledged the character's absence.

The scenario I feel would fit Sykes best would be to simply mention that the character has moved away (probably for some slightly grandiose reason which would fit the character well). A bit like those Corrie characters of the Sixties and Seventies who went off to pastures new and were mentioned every once in a while through letters or word of mouth.

It's possible it may be mentioned at some point. I understand there will be a new neighbour in upcoming episodes, so if she moves into Fulbright-Brown's old house, there might be a passing mention then.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

The best thing about these later series of Sykes, in my opinion, is that they're short. The thought of them being fifteen episodes or so, like the first couple of series, is a very painful one indeed.

Even so, there are still a good number of misses. Without exception I find all the episodes a bit of a slog to get through. Occasionally there's some enjoyment that helps the time pass less slowly, but many of these episodes feel every minute of their thirty minute running time. Oh, the times I've found myself wishing this aired on ITV so it would be twenty five minutes instead of twenty nine.

The last S5 episode, Bath, featured a scene of Eric in the bath playing with toy submarines and aeroplanes and making bang/crash sounds that went on for something like five minutes. Somewhere in my personal Room 101, this scene is playing on a loop.

I understand there will be a new neighbour in upcoming episodes, so if she moves into Fulbright-Brown's old house, there might be a passing mention then.

Well, bang goes that theory. Miss Melody Rumbelow has now appeared and (eventually) it turns out she's living in the house that adjoins the Sykeses' home, which is the opposite side to Fulbright-Brown's. So we're still none the wiser as to the onscreen reason for never seeing him anymore.

Miss Rumbelow is working well so far. She's a familiar British sitcom character: the jolly hockey sticks snooty dragon lady. Think Joan Sanderson and you're pretty much there. Her face is familiar, and I see she's had a number of small roles in films and series of the era with which I'd be familiar.

Had Richard Wattis been replaced by a male actor, I imagine the character similarities would be more glaring and draw more critical comparisons. As it is, she has enough Fulbright-Brownisms to patch over a gap that's left in the series while still being a distinct character, and so works well for me.

Curiously, in her first episode she barged into the house and was clearly very familiar with the Sykeses already. But in Bath, she has no idea who Eric is when he phones and he has to explain that he helped her move into her house. I'm not sure if this is to suggest her being dismissive of him or a genuine continuity error.

If the latter it's one of several continuity hiccups. One notable change is that a different street is now used for the Sebastopol Terrace exteriors, with the Sykeses' home now clearly at the top end of a cul-de-sac. Presumably this was done either because the previous location was no longer available or simply for the obvious benefits of filming on a cul-de-sac with more privacy and control over traffic, people and the environment.