Mike Bullen, writer and creator
I wanted to make a show about relationships based on me and my friends. Apart from This Life, our generation never saw our lives depicted on TV. All the shows we loved were American, like thirtysomething and Ally McBeal. We aspired to something that looked cinematic and not traditionally British.
The pilot episode was a standalone story, a romcom about Adam and Rachel, but the first full series – which began 25 years ago this week, scarily – became a comedy-drama about three couples. The humour allowed us to get into darker areas such as abortion, bereavement and testicular cancer. The fantasy sequences are among the most remembered – especially Adam being chased by giant bouncing testicles.
Originally it was set in London. When Granada picked it up, we moved it to Manchester, which worked way better. People drop round each other’s houses there. It turned out we were accidentally making a show about class. The three couples were upper-middle, middle and lower-middle. It reflected post-Thatcher Britain, when the middle class expanded. So we had David being snobbish about wine, but Jenny telling it like it was.
All six were based on real people – apart from Rachel [played by Helen Baxendale], who was a mythic, idealised girlfriend. I had a gang of friends who’d meet at Boulevard Brasserie in Covent Garden in London every fortnight, so picked characteristics from them. Adam was loosely me. Luckily, I had no hand in casting, because I certainly never imagined him as a Northern Irishman like Jimmy Nesbitt. The cast were crucial. Our six just worked together. Friends comparisons didn’t annoy me in the slightest. In fact, I met the creators of Friends and they said: “We loved Cold Feet. That’s why we cast Helen Baxendale.” She played Ross’s wife, Emily.
Initially, a lot of storylines were autobiographical. Adam wins Rachel back by serenading her naked with a red rose up his arse. That was based on me driving 200 miles to surprise this girl with a rose. Not naked and not up my arse – that’s artistic licence. Someone on the crew told me about his IVF experiences, so that went into the first series. I stole from everywhere. Viewers would say: “It’s like you’re writing about me.” Karen stoned at a boring dinner party? Countless people have told me they’ve wanted to do that. I’m particularly proud of the plots about Karen’s alcoholism and Pete’s depression. The latter was very personal, because it was based on me.
Ratings grew gradually. When Adam and Rachel parted, my sister phoned in tears and said: “You bastard.” I thought: “We’ve got them now!” We considered killing off Adam in series five, but while we were weighing it up, a woman in Halifax wrote to me saying: “My husband died from cancer. Cold Feet was the first thing that allowed me and my daughter to laugh again. Please don’t let Adam’s cancer come back.” That letter really influenced me. I realised it had to be Rachel instead. Her death affected Adam deeply, and the show was really his story. I took a perverse pleasure in making viewers cry.
Stopping at the right time enabled us to come back in 2016 for a sixth series. It got called Old Feet and Crow’s Feet, which amused me. It let me write about that midlife stage when the kids move out and you get your own stories back. Maybe in a few years we’ll pick it up again. Retirement will be looming. Grandchildren have arrived. The characters might have a third of their lives left. What are they going to do with that time?
Fay Ripley, played Jenny Gifford
It was a life-changing audition. I assumed I was up for the part of Rachel: the pretty one everyone wants to have sex with. Suddenly I was like: “Wait, they want me to read for Jenny? This funny old character from Manchester?” I’m a southerner but managed to get away with the accent. I knew John Thomson a bit, so it felt easy reading with him. We just sort of arsed about – and ended up doing it for the next 25 years.
My role got expanded when they saw how well the couples worked. I hadn’t had children at the time, so had to wing it during my birth scene. Makeup designer Janet Horsfield applied my pubic wig. We’ve been good friends ever since – fitting a merkin is one way to get close to someone. I really went for it, and AA Gill wrote in his review: “Fay Ripley only pulled off the birth sequence because she was actually pregnant.” I wrote to him, pointing out that it was all prosthetics and pretending. He printed a correction.
David and Karen [Robert Bathurst and Hermione Norris] were the scary posh ones, Jen and Pete more approachable. To this day, people put their arm around me and want to have a glass of wine because of Jen. The first time I got recognised was in M&S on Chiswick High Road, London. I was so excited, I invited the lady for dinner! She looked terrified and backed away. By series three, my parents were showing off about me. That’s when I knew it was a hit.
Rather stupidly, I decided to leave when one of the writers on Cold Feet, David Nicholls, wrote a show for me called I Saw You. Thankfully, they didn’t kill me off and I returned for Rachel’s funeral and got written back in.
The cast have got so much shared history, we’re like family. We had wild nights out in the early days. One of my fondest memories is a New Year’s episode when we’re all on a beach and the camera pans along us. Not everyone’s sober, put it that way.
When the show restarted, Jenny’s breast cancer was a very important storyline – for me, for Janet Horsfield, who produced all my wigs and bald caps, and for all the women working on the show. It was helpful to show its impact on her family, to see those difficult conversations on telly. What I didn’t foresee is how the story wouldn’t end for me. I still get contacted by people who got checked, or didn’t put off an appointment, because of the show. I’ll be proud of that for ever.
Cold Feet resonated because it reflected viewers’ lives. A third chapter some day would be great. Mike just needs to get a move on and write it while we can still learn our lines.
