ON Christmas Day 1978, we waved goodbye to one of our favourite small screen characters as the last ever episode of Some Mothers Do ’Ave ’Em saw accident-prone Frank Spencer prepare to emigrate Down Under.
The sitcom written by Isle of Wight-based Raymond Allen (pictured below) remains one of the most popular series in British sitcom history.
When it was originally screened between 1973-78, more than 20 million viewers regularly tuned in to cringe at the hilarious misadventures of Frank Spencer, played by Michael Crawford.
Instantly recognisable by his mac, beret and trademark cry of “Oooh, Betty!” the character became indelibly marked onto the national consciousness.
Try as he might, hapless Frank couldn’t stay out of trouble or hold down a job as he ploughed through every manner of employment with ever-more disastrous results.
During the three series and Christmas Specials, an unbelievably wide range of mishaps befell Frank and his long-suffering wife, Betty, played by Michele Dotrice.
The remarkable stunts were a particular highlight of the sitcom and, amazingly, they were all performed by Crawford himself. Memorable and dangerous situations that the character found himself in included careering under a juggernaut on runaway roller-skates and dangling from the bumper of a car overhanging a cliff.
The physical comedy combined with humorous scripts earned the series ratings that sitcoms today can only dream about. And the continued appreciation of the series explains why the recent stage adaptation, starring Joe Pasquale as Frank, was such a success.
We were first introduced to Frank on Thursday February 15 1973. Within half an hour of his screen life he’d managed single-handedly to demolish a chicken coop, break a lift, pull a cupboard on top of himself and leave the unsuspecting Mr Lewis a quivering wreck, setting the tone for the rest of the series.
Wherever life took him, the feckless Mr Spencer left chaos and destruction in his wake – he was television’s ultimate walking disaster whose every deed was prone to failure.
With an infantile voice, expressive face and peculiar mannerisms, he was one of the world’s most frustrating characters, but despite such shortcomings his innocence and perpetual struggles to claim a place in an adult world he neither understood nor was equipped to deal with won the sympathy vote from millions of viewers.
The highest point of scriptwriter Raymond Allen’s career, Some Mothers was just rewards for the writer’s unwillingness to give up.
After years of continual rejection, he struck upon an idea which was nurtured by the experienced hands of Head of Comedy and producer of the show, Michael Mills, and brought alive by the dynamism and application of Michael Crawford and Michele Dotrice.
“I remember the day my 40th TV drama, concerning a secret agent who fought his way across Europe, pursued by enemy forces and hordes of beautiful women, was like the other 39 – swiftly rejected,” says Allen, now 78.
“An exasperated script reader enclosed a note saying, ‘You’d stand more chance with a smaller cast, and why on Earth don’t you try writing about something you know?’
“Unfortunately, there wasn’t much about life I did know. Nearly 30, I’d never been abroad, had little money, no proper job, was financially supported by my parents and so far everything I’d submitted to TV had been turned down. Not surprisingly, I was also very depressed.”
Remembering the script-reader’s advice, Allen considered writing a play about a man who was unemployed, unsuccessful and accident-prone, but he didn’t think it sounded very promising.
“However, having failed dismally as a dramatist, I did eventually turn to humour, but more in desperation than hope. Most comedy springs from tragedy, but after I’d written, and rewritten my comedy script, about a married couple called Frank and Betty Spencer, it seemed more tragic than funny.”
Fortunately, BBC’s Head of Comedy, Michael Mills, did find it funny – and so did Michael Crawford.
“Watching him get into the part was extraordinary,” recalls Allen. “He didn’t just play Frank, he became Frank, and the delightful Michele Dotrice as Betty, his wife, was perfect. My only regret is that I wasn’t responsible for the show’s title. I’d originally called it Have a Break, Take a Husband, which, understandably, was eventually changed to Some Mothers Do ’Ave ’Em.”
Looking back, Allen says its success still seems like a dream. “I never imagined the series would make such an impact. I certainly hadn’t envisaged the dramatic stunts that the shows would become known for, or that any actor would dare attempt them.
“Having struggled for so long to get my work accepted, the last thing I wanted to do was prematurely terminate the series by killing off the leading man.”
Raymond Allen found the whole experience of writing the series exciting but also nerve-racking.
“As a newcomer to TV, the thought that every line I wrote would be heard by an audience of millions reduced me to a constant state of nerves, but the BBC and everyone involved in the shows were tremendously supportive.”
Overall, Allen regarded Frank Spencer as a sad character. “I was going through a bout of depression when I wrote the script and he just evolved from that period in my life.
“Then I started thinking about his background and decided that he must have had a very peculiar childhood, as well as an odd mother. His father, meanwhile, cleared off as soon as he saw Frank, and everything developed from there.”
When he started formulating his central characters in his mind, Allen was influenced by people he’d encountered in his life.
“There was a girl I was very fond of once called Betty, and she possessed many of the traits seen in the screen character.
“As for Frank, I based him on this guy who every week without fail would come along to the cinema in Shanklin, where I worked. I used to clean the steps and he’d be standing outside.
“After a while, he’d suddenly ask what the current film was about, so I’d tell him, but then he’d ask idiotic questions.”
It took just under four months before Allen was satisfied with the first script, for which he was offered £350. “That was more than I was earning in a year,” he admits. “Initially, I thought it was £350 for the series, so when they said per script, I was gobsmacked.”
Michael Mills saw the show as a vehicle for Norman Wisdom. Allen was a big fan of Wisdom’s and couldn’t believe that an actor of his standing was considering playing a character he’d created.
But when Wisdom declined the chance to play Frank due to other commitments, the search for the lead actor continued.
Ronnie Barker was approached but when he couldn’t accept either, attention turned to Michael Crawford who, eventually, was free to play the part, earning – at first – £1,000 an episode.
With the male lead resolved, attention turned to finding an actress to play Frank’s loving wife, Betty.
Initially, Sinead Cusack was offered the role, together with a fee of £160 per episode, but she turned it down.
Michele Dotrice, now 70, remembers her audition in 1972 for the laughter. “I recall meeting the two Michaels (Mills and Crawford) in a big rehearsal room, somewhere in the bowels of the BBC.
“The idea was for me to read with Michael Crawford, but we never got round to it because we never stopped laughing. I’m a good audience because I laugh a lot. Comedy is such a craft. People think it’s so easy, but I can assure you it’s not.”
Dotrice has fond memories of working with Crawford in the series. “We both had the same sense of humour. In rehearsals, I’d sometimes have to run to the loo because I would almost be wetting myself with laughter – literally!”
Richard is the author of the authorised book celebrating Some Mothers Do ’Ave ’Em, published by Boxtree, and reveals more secrets of the show in part two, coming soon
Enjoy the convenience of having The Sunday Post delivered as a digital ePaper straight to your smartphone, tablet or computer.
Subscribe for only £5.49 a month and enjoy all the benefits of the printed paper as a digital replica.
Subscribe