While studying drama at the University Of Manchester, Ben Elton met Rik Mayall and Adrian Edmondson. They became part of the 80s alternative comedy movement and Elton’s first TV success came aged 23, when he co-created the sitcom The Young Ones. His subsequent TV comedy credits include Blackadder, The Thin Blue Line and Upstart Crow. He’s published 16 novels, while his work for the stage includes the Queen musical We Will Rock You. Now he has written and directed Close Up: The Twiggy Musical, which has its world premiere on 18 September.
How long has your new musical, Close Up, been in gestation?
About 20 years in its vaguest form, ever since I first met Dame Twiggy. Her daughter, Carly, was such a huge Blackadder fan that Twigs invited Richard Curtis and me to a dinner party. We became friends and have met up regularly since. Twiggy has lived through some of the truly great cultural periods of the 20th century. About three years ago, I’d read her autobiography, Twiggy In Black and White, and seen the Cilla Black drama on TV. I said, “I wonder if there might be a drama in your life too.” She said, “It’s a Cinderella story, isn’t it?” And I said, “Not really, Twig. Your two sisters adored you, you went straight to the ball and have stayed there ever since!”
How does Twiggy’s story feel relevant today?
The 60s was an era when patriarchal control wasn’t just established, it was celebrated. Photographers were lauded for how many models they’d bedded. Girls were basically the puppets and the men were the svengalis. Body politics comes into it too. Twiggy was effectively blamed for anorexia. She’s a naturally skinny girl and never dieted. Yet she was the first model to carry the can for the media that used her image. They didn’t blame the magazines or photographers, they blamed a 17-year-old girl.
Has the #MeToo movement cast the story in a different light?
I don’t refer directly to #MeToo because I’m very period-specific. I get cross when I watch Downton Abbey and suddenly Lady Snooty says, “What part of the Great Depression are you not understanding?”. Don’t use modern idioms! If ever I meet Julian Fellowes, I’ll have a word. My wife and kids all say “Stop being boring. You can reflect modern language into the past.” But I feel strongly so we don’t use the term but some parallels are clear in retrospect.
And it’s also about social class…
There was genuine social mobility in the 60s. Twiggy was a young working-class woman at a time when the Beatles changed everything. Suddenly the charts were full of working-class people. Acting, singing, writing, all these professions suddenly opened up. So we discussed class, sexism, patriarchy, various themes that her story could reflect. It’s a comedy but one with a lot of bite, I hope.
You recently did a stint playing the Rebel Leader in your Queen musical, We Will Rock You. What did you learn?
A lot. I’ve always had immense respect for the musical theatre community, but hadn’t realised what a tough game it is. I only have one song but shredded my voice within three days. It took me a month to get it back. After 40 years as a standup, I’m finally learning proper use of a microphone. I got a voice steamer, the honey, the lemons, a book on vocal projection, the lot.
Were glad to see the back of the wig?
I’m afraid I did pull some executive power on this. I’m not good at being fiddled with. So I don’t wear any make-up and my wig is basically shoulder-length grey hair attached to a bandana. I put it on in three seconds, whereas everybody else has to spend 20 minutes in the chair. But it’s still pretty unpleasant. Grey nylon hair gets everywhere. I was happy to throw it in the bin at the end.
Last year’s one-off revival of Friday Night Live for Channel 4’s 40th anniversary won a Bafta. Would you like to bring it back?
I’d bring it back in a heartbeat. It’s basically a great cabaret, which is timeless. I loved the show and the little bit of politics that I was able to put into it, but Channel 4 had no budget for a series, so I suggested a New Year’s Eve live special. I even offered to do it for nothing, so they’d only have to pay the acts. But you still need a studio, lighting, a 100-strong crew, a week’s rehearsal – it’s a big thing. And of course, all the studios have been fucking knocked down because London needed more empty flats for millionaire foreign investors, a new shopping mall and another fucking Soho House. Let’s trade our three best TV studios for that, shall we? May the BBC be for ever condemned for shredding its legacy by selling TV Centre for a one-off windfall profit.
It’s Blackadder’s 40th anniversary this year. Do you ever get ideas for another series?
Any time period would make a good Blackadder with the right jokes: you could set it in a cotton mill or in a cave. I just don’t know if anyone has the desire or enthusiasm. I’m genuinely thrilled it became part of the culture. People still talk in Blackadder language – Richard [Curtis] and I are proud of that. But I think people enjoyed watching it more than we enjoyed making it! Richard, Rowan [Atkinson], Stephen [Fry], Hugh [Laurie] and I remain good friends. I’m not sure that’d be the case if we were still making Blackadder.
Rik Mayall would have turned 65 this year. Do you still miss him and does that make memories of The Young Ones bittersweet?
Of course. Rik’s death at such an early age casts it in a heartbreaking light. Rik was 22 and I was 21 when he summoned me to a pub in Islington and demanded I produce a pilot script for his brilliantly crazy vision. It was a time of such excitement and promise for us. Rik was a dear friend and an inspiring visionary. I miss him very much.
You once turned down the chance to write a Police Academy movie. What other offers have you rejected over the years?
In the early 00s, I did a bit of work on Shrek 2 and Dreamworks wanted me to develop my own movie. I was properly courted but their method is brutal. You go and live at Dreamworks, they give you food so you can’t leave, and you work on the movie until they’re happy with it. Tim Minchin has spoken very eloquently about this process. I told him, “That could’ve been me. I dodged a bullet there.” I remember my sister-in-law saying, “What the Shrek were you doing? Go to Hollywood!” I’m quite proud that I said no, although you always wonder what might have been.
What comedy has made you laugh recently?
There’s too much to keep up with. I adore Curb Your Enthusiasm. Stath Lets Flats is great too. I try not to watch other standups because we cover similar areas. Well, except for this new habit of people doing shows about the worst thing that happened in their lives, which is fine but not where I’d go. With observational comics, I’ll think, “Fuck, I was going to do something about that. Now I’ve got your jokes in my head and wish I didn’t.” So I often prefer watching drama. I enjoyed Succession. Now I’m on Babylon Berlin because I’m fascinated by the Weimar Republic.
Close Up: The Twiggy Musical will run from 18 September, at the Menier Chocolate Factory, London SE1
