We heard last week of the sad passing of Prunella Scales – a national treasure partly owing to her hilarious depiction of Sybil Fawlty in Fawlty Towers, and for the gentle canal boat series she made with her husband, Timothy West. We know that in her later years, she battled dementia and, in that series, they both bravely talked about it and how they coped.
She was also a formidable stage and screen actress over many decades, even playing the Queen at the National Theatre. She was also a generous and principled person and helped us.
So, apart from still being able to laugh out loud at Sybil, I will always remember her kindness and generosity.
In 2004, we were presenting our first production at the Royal Albert Hall. It was ambitious. We set ourselves the challenge of telling the story of the twentieth century in two hours. We did it by dividing the century into 5-year periods. Then we found a song for each period and presented the history of those times through music.
Somehow, we squeezed in the First World War, the Second World War, and in the second half, Frankie Goes to Hollywood brought us Margaret Thatcher dancing with President Regan – it wasn’t without a sense of humour. For the opening of Act Two, we brought in Queen Elizabeth for her coronation and quickly went into a medley of the king of rock, Elvis Presley.
It needed moments for the audience to get their breath back, so I wrote a narration that ran through the piece. At the time, I was working at the Academy of Live and Recorded Arts in Wandsworth, and Prunella, who lived nearby, sometimes came into the drama school to see the work of the students. She took the time and trouble to be interested in them. She kindly agreed to narrate the show for us, and she did an amazing job. She had the poise of a great actor, knowing when to pause and when to press on, when to be serious and when to get a laugh.
The day came, and she joined us on stage with 1200 performers. She was so supportive of what we were doing. At one point, we were handling the end of the Second World War with
“There’ll Always Be an England”, and there were flags everywhere – you couldn’t move for them. Later, in the second act, someone asked me if they could add some more flags to their number. I said I thought not. Prunella, who was close by, said, “Yes, I think we’ve seen rather a lot of the flag.” She had a twinkle in her eye, but she knew you could have too much of a good thing.
So, apart from still being able to laugh out loud at Sybil, I will always remember her kindness and generosity.
