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Ten years on: Ronnie Barker, Pismonouncers Unanimous founder, remembered
One of Britain's best-loved comedy greats
Doing Porridge
While now typecast as an avuncular figure, Ronnie Barker could still play the idiot toff or would-be playboy at the drop of a hat (and the raising of a pay phone). In fact, in the age of the mobile phone, the following “crossed lines” sketch is probably more topical now than it was when it was actually recorded…
The Two Ronnies – Crossed Lines
Barker also loved to play the straight-laced attempting the unfamiliar – such as a middle aged middle class vicar attempting a eulogy for a dodgy Cockney…
Ronnie Barker – Richard The Third
Or a quiet party guest being affronted by a possible sociopath…
The Two Ronnies – Slap-Up Party
But it was a Cockney(ish) character that was to be the centre of the next Barker “solo” project when he played imprisoned habitual criminal Norman Stanley Fletcher in Porridge (1973-77) – doing “porridge” being a slang term for time spent at Her Majesty’s Pleasure; namely, in gaol. It was a character he performed to great acclaim through three series and for a 1979 feature film adaption.
Fletcher, despite being a career burglar, did have quite a bit of wisdom to impart – mainly to younger cellmate Godber (Richard Beckinsale, father of actress Kate Beckinsale) – but he would also help his less literate colleagues with their letters to their wives and girlfriends, turning, for instance, the lascivious, “Now I must go and get on my lover” into the more traditional, “Now I must go and get on, my lover”. But even Fletch had his limits, as episodes such as Do Not Disturb clearly showed…
Having won a BAFTA for Best Light Entertainment Performance for Porridge in 1976 he then played a more serious role in the Richard Lester film Robin and Marian (1976). A bitter-sweet ’n’ sour version of the Robin Hood legend with Sean Connery and Audrey Hepburn.
Despite good reviews, it was to be one of his last major film roles as he opted instead for the more familiar road of television – helping to launch David Jason with the corner-shop sitcom Open All Hours (1976-85). Here, he finally used the stutter that Melvyn had taught him some quarter of a century before.
Even though it might be seen as somewhat un-PC today, Arkwright was a character received with affection. Barker’s superlative comic timing and hilarious facial expressions were to be savoured. Open All Hours did have other charms beyond Arkwright’s speech impediment and his doomed yearning for Nurse Gladys Emmanuel, though. For instance, Barker’s ability to wring laughs out of the cunning petty wiles of a retail rascal…
Special with HO – Open All Hours
Biting the hand that feeds IT
