Charity Begins in Hove

Max Buffer writes…

Even though my Sit Com “Life’s a Drag” was sidelined I knew deep down I still had a premier sit-com in me.

So I started work on an all new comedy based on rejected ideas from my previous efforts. This time I knew for definite (well lets call it 78% certainty) I had a great idea – a charity shop run by two old dears near Brighton – Charity Begins in Hove!

I immediately, (i.e. before even writing a word), phoned my friend Barry Johns and asked for two of his top talents. (If you don’t know who I’m talking about – Barry Johns was one of the top agents in the 70s for most of the Teddington Lock crowd, which in the 60s was quite a big deal).

Barry suggested the lovely Pat Coombs, and Peggy Mount (who, from my experience, wasn’t always as lovely as Pat – though others dispute this). I was over the moon to work with Pat. So I set about writing the script with them both in mind, in double quick time as well – something that might have been my downfall. Good sit-coms do take time after all.

Page One – establish the charity shop by having Pat and Peggy serve a young couple looking for a tea set. The comedy arising from Pat being a bit deaf and mis-hearing everything that’s going on.

We see Peggy behind the counter polishing the till. The shop door opens.

Young man (walking into shop) – Hello.

Peggy – Hello sir do come in.

Young Lady (following the young man) – Hello.

Peggy – Hello Madam.

Pat (walking out from a back room behind a curtain) – What was that?

Peggy – I was just saying Hello to this charming couple.

Pat – Barmy Poodle? What Barmy Poodle? (to the couple) Have you brought a dog in here, no dogs unless your blind. Are you blind?

Peggy – No, there is no poodle, just the couple.

Pat – Good, because we don’t allow dogs in here. (To the couple) If you need help reading any labels then just ask, it’s only my hearing that’s going a bit I can still read.

Young Man – Thanks, but I think we’ll be alright.

Pat – All Night! – sorry dear, we shut at Five thirty!

And so it went on, Pat mis-hearing people for top comedy effect and Peggy getting her out of trouble. And luckily the situations looked like they might be endless. There was going to be Mrs Mopp the regular bargain hunter who was the local gossip and busy body; Mr Green who always came in looking for a Polaroid camera but they never had one (he was also a bit of a dirty old man in a raincoat and liked to chat any young ladies in the shop – quite risque for the 70s I thought) and also PC Patel who would pop in to see how the ladies were getting on and always got a cup of Indian tea from them.

I had some great talent lined up to help with the show, both behind and in front of the camera. Terrence Aspel (who I later found out wasn’t Michael’s brother after all – even though he’d played that card a few times), Bill Maynard, Derrick Branche and Graeme Muir to name all four I can remember.

I did also approach Eric Chappell to help write it, but he was busy developing Rising Damp. I do remember saying to him at the time; why bother with some boring sit-com about a landlord, what funny situations can happen there. And as you will know nothing much did happen, but somehow people found it funny all the same.

So after getting the budget together to record what’s commonly known as the pilot show I booked LWT’s Wembley studios (originally home to Associated Rediffusion run by my good friend Captain Thomas Brownrigg who I believe coined the phrase “If that’s a good TV show then I can easily show you a rubbish one”).

The set was built, mainly reusing an old Tea Shop set of flats from The Avengers that I found in storage – I do like to keep to a very tight budget; which people claim was my downfall with the “What A…” films but as I made over 20 of them how can that be a failure. But I digress.

So we got the cast together for a read through of my just finished script. Unfortunately with no audience to laugh the read through felt very dead. I did hear one assistant producer claim that the script was at fault rather than a lack of audience atmosphere, but they soon found their way out of the door with my boot up their backside. (I had to settle of out court as by the mid 70s it seems you couldn’t kick your staff).

But alas the show was never filmed. The producers got cold feet after the read through and decided to use Pat and Peggy for Graeme Muir’s “You’re Only Young Twice” instead.

I should have claimed executive producer status on that rather successful sit-com (it ran for 4 years) but after a falling out with Graeme over a meal at a seafood restaurant we went our separate ways. I still believe if you order a Brandy you should be made to pay for it, even if it was because the waiter misheard you (not in a Pat Coombs comedy style).

I have never trusted producers who work for ITV since.