I’m often the victim of a terrible misunderstanding: people who hear me talk think I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth, growing up in some swanky pile where we spoke French at teatime while Grandma played Bach on the harpsichord.
I did not. Like many people, I’m an invention. My life began in Southgate, and I got cracking on transforming myself very early. My vowels travelled from Amy Winehouse to Nancy Mitford by the time I was five. It wasn’t an aspiration to be a different class, you understand, just a desire to be anywhere else.
Of course, there were masses of amazingly, wonderful things in my suburban childhood, the most important of which was unconditional love (thanks Mum – please don’t write in). Looking back, I wouldn’t swap it for anything.
Another glorious thing was that, from an early age, I was taken to a pantomime some years as a Christmassy/Chanukah-y treat. In fact, it was most likely to be where the first glittery seeds of my love for showbiz were sown. Truth be told, I wasn’t 100 per cent sold on panto right away (the fear of being dragged on stage gripped me tight), but I still got that magic you only find in the theatre.
Wonderfully now, I’m delighted to be starting rehearsals today for Snow White in Milton Keynes. I’m beyond excited again to be part of something so special and magical, for families like mine. I know that in the current terrifying financial climate anyone who comes to see us will have made an enormous investment to do so.
We here in London might forget how privileged we are to be surrounded by a constant merry-go-round of incredible plays and shows — astonishing performances are happening every night up and down our splendid city. The West End is genuinely world-beating, and it’s worth billions for the UK economy (some estimates say it brings in around £2.7 billion a year). It’s something of which everyone can be proud.
But as I gingerly begin to tread the boards again, I can’t help but think the varied theatrical buffet we’ve always had in London is set to be lost forever.
Theatreland is being squeezed tight.
Of course, in this punishing financial crisis, I get that there are many things “more important” but that doesn’t mean the performing arts should just be abandoned without a fight.
There have to be creative solutions to keep them going. Once our stages close, I fear they’ll be gone for good. We could come out the other side of this crisis to find something irreplaceable has withered and died. The solution doesn’t lie with government (political parties have always given culture their undivided indifference). Producers, charities and the City of Westminster must work out a way of protecting something so precious. Not just because it brings in so much cash but because there are kids all over the city who deserve to experience something spectacular, just like I did.
In other news...
I had that Keir Starmer on Good Morning Britain the other week and like every politician he treated us to the same old smorgasbord of platitudes. When he was asked him about the rail strikes, you could hear him slip his broken records out of their sleeves: we support people’s right to strike, he said, but just wouldn’t be drawn on any specifics.
Every sensible person supports the right to strike — if conditions are bad and it’s the only way to put pressure on management, then sometimes working people have no option.
But this new round of Christmas strikes won’t just affect management, it will smash the plans of ordinary Londoners...exhausted folks trying to see friends or family. The effect on shops, pubs and restaurants will be huge. Mick Lynch, head of the union, truly is Mick Grinch. Striking like this in the festive season will simply be brutal. It will cause maximum pain to the people who deserve it least.
