Nigel Havers - photograph

I was recently invited to the launch of Bath Theatre Royal’s Christmas offering, Jack and the Beanstalk. The main attraction was the possibility of meeting the cast and getting an ‘in depth’ interview with Nigel Havers, who will be giving us his Fleshcreep during the festive season. In the event the rest of the gathered press and I had to be content with table-hopping from one cast member to another, gleaning what we may en route in our five-or-so minute slots. I was paired with a chap from the Bath Parenting Magazine to speed things up.

The venue was a smart hotel on the outskirts of Bath. Some nice looking sandwiches and soup were laid out for us just inside the door of one of the hotel’s comfortable lounges. Easy chairs were grouped around a number of tables at each of which sat one of the show’s stars, like a bunch of naughty children who had been separated for being disruptive.

No sooner had I picked up a tuna sandwich than Mr Havers became free and we were ushered over to the corner of the room where he was sitting. In the flesh there are few signs of his sixty odd years; some ‘character lines’ of course, but nothing to suggest he was anywhere near going to seed. Yes, he did keep fit and thought it important for an actor to do so. Certainly nothing appears to sag. The most common epithet applied to Nigel Havers, I suppose, is ’suave’ and indeed he is, but not, it struck me, in a glib way. Some may think the moniker applies with little more justification than having a posh voice, but in Mr Havers’ case there’s more to it than that. There’s a centredness, a natural politeness and an ease that comes across as being an affable, good egg. He makes it seem so easy, which I suppose is the mark of distinction for a charmer.

I wondered how many of these (interviews) he had done. ‘Oh about forty years’ worth.’ Getting straight on he mentioned that he’d done quite a few pantos and had played Fleshcreep (the Giant’s helper) before. Pantos are fun, he could relax. He batted away more probing questions with a disarming self-deprecation. ‘Did you have to dig deep for your role in The Charmer,’ I asked, trying to broaden things out with a friendly nudge. ‘No, I never dig deep for anything, I just get on and do it,’ was his breezy reply. Bats don’t come much straighter than that. Not to be defeated I prompted, ‘What do you think was your breakthrough role, Chariots?’ ‘No I didn’t have a breakthrough.’ (‘Come on,’ I thought.) ‘No, after that I was back into theatre and people forget. That’s how it’s gone on.’ He does indeed have an impressive theatre CV starting with the much praised, Prospect Theatre Company in which Ian McKellen and Timothy West developed their reputations as classical actors. Pressing on I asked about his background and whether, given the line of lawyers in the family, there was any pressure to go into the law? ‘No, none at all. No pressure.’ I smiled, wondering where to go next.

As we sat down he’d said, after the introductions, ‘Shall we get on with this, I’m doing The Importance of Being Ernest somewhere later?’ I was beginning to feel he was, mentally at least, already in his dressing room in Swindon, where The Importance was currently on tour. Not being one to keep the dog from the hare I was happy, when asked, to table hop over to Nick Wilton.

‘Oh, there are two of you.’ he said, a little surprised and wiping away a crumb or two. I eyed his plate which had the remains of decent buffet lunch and reflected wistfully that for my part it certainly wouldn’t have been the done thing to turn up with a plate of sarnies. However, Mr Wilton, with no prior engagements he seemed quite happy to talk freely about anything. With a background in comedy going back to the Whitehall farces of Brian Rix he played his first dame at the age of forty. Some sixteen years later he is back on the stage where he learned most about the art of panto. Theatre Royal regulars will be aware and no doubt delighted to know that Nick Wilton has worked a number of times with the late great dame, Chris Harris, and regards him as his mentor and model. “I’d watch him during rehearsal and think, ‘why are you doing that like that?’ And then on stage it worked and I’d think, “so that’s why”.’ He was brilliant.” As the dame are you aware of the great tradition behind you? ‘Oh yes, yes, very much. Chris was a great student of comedy and had loads of books, shelves of books on it. I learned a lot from him.’ Did he find it hard to resist camping it up as the Dame? No, there were certain things a dame had to be. That was something he’d got from Chris Harris. ‘You have to believe you are a woman. An exaggeration of one, much broader obviously, but you, the actor, have to believe it.’

A gentle nudge told me that some others were anxious to speak to him so I got up and said goodbye thinking how Dame Trott seemed to be in safe hands. A few steps away the multi-talented, Jon Monie, was lolling on the arm of one of the sofas. He looked a lot healthier than the publicity picture suggested as he leaned forward, smiling, to shake hands. Jon Monie has established something of a residency at Theatre Royal during panto season, which started with Dandini in Cinderella at the end of the last century. Inevitably that means he has done a lot of work with Chris Harris, and like Nick Wilton, learned a lot about the particular skills of panto from the master. Simple Simon, like many of the other characters he has played in panto has the particular role of connecting directly with the audience. It is a responsibility he is finely aware of, particularly as his characters are usually the ones to greet the audience at the start and so to some degree set the tone of the show. They are the kind of roles that sit somewhere between acting and stand-up, often relying on quick wits; ‘There’s a certain amount of flexibility in the script to allow for topical jokes. If something has happened that day that everyone is likely to have heard about, it could go in, yes.’ Given the wide variety of activities that make up his career, with script-writing, acting and presenting being but three, I wondered where panto fitted in. Does he consider it hard work? ‘Hard work, yes, but enjoyable, fun.’ Conveying that sense of fun to the audience is by no means an easy task, but in Jon Monie the show has the consummate professional with the skill to bring it off.

In the last couple of minutes with Jon Monie I noticed that at the other end of the sofa an increasingly restless young Charlie was using his mum, Katy Ashworth, as a climbing frame. I thought I’d better get in quick before she disappeared, particularly as she was slated for an imminent telephone interview. This ludicrously overachieving actress, who also writes, illustrates, sings, cooks, teaches, presents, runs choirs and probably ten other things in her spare time, as a result of her work on CBeebies will make an instant connection with younger members of the audience. No newbie herself to panto, she is looking forward to working with such an experienced cast. I wondered what she thought of the flexibility inherent in a panto script which allowed for topical inserts. ‘”Wiggle room”? I like that. “Wiggle room”, I’ll use that,’ she laughed. It’s easy to warm to her. There’s no sense of her having developed the kind of shell that successful entertainers often grow. I’d guess that people who knew her ten years ago would say she hasn’t changed. Whether her plan ten years ago was to be good at a dozen things, I couldn’t say, but where most actresses would be happy to claim they were going places, this is one who is going to several places at the same time. Yes, she did like the idea of ‘wiggle room’ in the script, that was part of the fun of pantomime. The Forest Fairy will no doubt add some magic to the story at the same time as her sunny disposition will bring some light.

The Theatre Royal has brought together a strong cast for their seasonal spectacular and if they are matched by excellence in all the other creative folk that help make a panto, Bath theatregoers will be in for a treat.   Graham Wyles     18th November 2015