2009 and all is fine

Hello Just a quick post from me, Max Buffer, to say Hello and let you know the plans for the New Year.

I would have blogged about this a month a go but Terry & Babs, and Myself, were away on our annual Winter Cruise and we’ve only just got back to dry land – well it’s a bit slushy as the Snow in Newendyke is melting.

This year there’ll be more Podcasts, more blogs about the good old days and maybe a few special things too – I’m looking at capturing Video Footage for The UTube, as well as embarking on more dates of my Lecture Tour.

Don’t forget both Terry and Myself have found Twitter and are now Tweeting. There should be a running Tweet at the side of the blog page and please follow us on Twitter if you have an account (and tell all your friends about us too) – https://twitter.com/MaxBuffer and https://twitter.com/TerryBland

But more anon when I have time (I’m currently enjoying a whiskey and stopped by the laptop to view some video footage a friend sent to me of his Neice).

Regards,
Max B.

Clouseau and so

(Posted by Max Buffer)

In the late 70s I was trying to break into Hollywood again. Well Hollywood is a bit of an over statement seeing as my ‘foot in the door’ Blake Edwards was working (on and off) out of England on the Pink Panther films.

I’d had lunch with Blake, I can’t remember where exactly but they did a great Cod fillet in a parsley sauce, and we discussed my ideas for a Hollywood comedy about the burgeoning music scene called Punk. I felt there was a lot of fun to be had with surly idiotic teenagers who sported funny coloured hair and safety pins through body parts you wouldn’t normally insert anything into.

Imagine if you will it’s 1978 and “Star Wars” was starting to impress toy store owners with it’s range of merchandise. On the Radio and TV Space was the thing to be involved with. Some curly hair floozy was in love with a starship trooper and rubbish bins we’re being looked at as potential butlers (i.e. they looked a bit like that R2 D4 robot). But in the back rooms of pubs, including my local The King’s Blanket in Newendyke, a right old load of noise was being created but so called music bands. This was the launch of Punk Rocker Music.

I sat there, sipping my pint, thinking what we need is a big space ship to come down and blast these teenagers away with it’s big laser rockets – and with that epiphany I started writing a script.

The first draft didn’t really go anywhere. Punk Rockers were shot at or kidnapped by space robots, until the people of Earth realised that it was only a fad and they’d soon start listening to The Carpenters again (who also jumped on the space wagon with a great song about phone calls to E.T. types) and so they needed to rescue these teenagers, otherwise the worlds population would die out.

I knew there was a better script that would tie in with these two great story devices – Space and Punk – but as yet didn’t know how to execute it.

Later in the year I caught up with Blake Edwards when he was in the UK; this time with his dear lady wife, the jolly holiday herself, Julie Andrews. I think they were working together to secure funding for the cracking sex film “10″ which went on to feature my one time colleague Dudley Moore (star of the only five minutes we shot for the unfinished “What A Racket” about a tennis playing orchestra).

I used (and abused – ho ho ho, not really, well I hope they didn’t see it like that) a few contacts and managed to get Blake to agree to have lunch with me, while Julie appeared on Blue Peter or some such show for middle class kids. We discussed my Punk Space Epic and realised it ‘didn’t have legs’ (i.e. was going nowhere). But he mentioned he was gearing up for a new Pink Panther movie. I joked ‘what about a Punk Panther movie’ which made him choke on his Potato Gratin.

We bounced some ideas around and realised there were many comic opportunities to having Clouseau go under cover amongst the Punk Rocker scene with his penchant for disguises. He could have brightly coloured stupid looking hair, typical of the youth of the day at the time. He could have safety pins in his clothes and accidentally keep pricking himself, and others, on them. And he could end up singing on stage with one of the bands and becoming a celebrity as they public couldn’t understand a word he said, much like the Punk Rocker bands themselves.

The space elements would come from a sub plot where Chief Inspector Dreyfus tries to eradicate Clouseau by making him think Robots from another world are after him, in truth it would be a troupe of assassins hired by Dreyfus wrapped in tin foil.

Alas the script never was developed as I lost touch with Blake soon after the meal. Unlike now when you put someone’s number straight into your mobile phone, back then we used to write numbers on bits of paper and put them in our wallets. I would guess Blake lost mine as he never called me as promised, and I never got to note his number down as he was between houses and staying at a hotel whose number he couldn’t recall.

I may still revisit the Punk Rocker Space movie idea as it still would appeal to the children of today, but I may have to change the music to a much more up to date one, such as Heavy Metal or Happy Hardcore (the dance music scene where Ketamine is rife).

So until next time, keep watching…

An Afternoon at the Revolution

Max Buffer here with another blog for you.

The other Saturday afternoon I was watching BBC 2, I could tell you which one but I think my recycling has been collected meaning I no longer have the Daily Mail TV Supplements and can’t research this point too easily. To be more exact I was watching dear Norman Wisdom’s “Square Peg”.

This made me wonder why we no longer do slapstick comedies of modern day political situations. For those of you not familiar with Norman’s film this one is about him being mistaken for a German General in World War Two.

So I thought to myself, why didn’t the current situation in Iraq bring about at least one film ridiculing Saddam Hussein in this classic of cinematic genres? If I was in Hollywood I would have been on the phone to Adam Sandler straight away to see if he wanted to make a film where his US Soldier was mistaken for Chemical Ali and then managed to make a bouncing bomb by crossing Semtex with Silly Putty.

Perhaps Terry and I can work on putting this right and making a film about it with some of today’s popular stars like Vernon Kaye or Chris Moyles (I know they’re not comedy stars but if you get them before anyone else does – and lets face it they’re so talented someone will make them a cinematic offer soon – then you’re quids in as a producer).

But this whole meandering afternoon thought process reminded me of the film I worked on for Norman Wisdom that never made it into production. I had all but forgotten about it until seeing him as jovial Norman Pitkin fighting the Nazis.

I have also always been a big fan of classic comedy and especially love the Marx Brothers, except for Gummo who I met once in New York and was rather rude about my female companion (admittedly he was right as it turned out she wasn’t female after all, but I wasn’t too clued up about those things back in the early 70s and coming from Newendyke meant ‘The Big Apple’ was a completely different world to me).

So in 1972 I rejoiced in my love of comedy and put pen to paper, writing a classic Norman Wisdom style script that would be a bio-pic of Karl Marx – but one where Norman played Marx more like Groucho and not the great leader of peoples minds. In my script he was now called Karlo, so that his name would rhyme with his brothers – Dummo, Strummo, Lego and Penno, who all had their own traits (idiot, ukulele player, builder and writer).

Karlo Marx also had his boss Mr Grimsdov, who ran the local paper where Marx was a journalist, writing articles about boiling beetroot and queuing for bread. It was during a drinking session with his brothers that he came upon the idea for Communism as Strummo didn’t like to share his Vodka but Karlo felt that everyone was entitled to at least a shot glass full. He enthused to his brothers that everyone should be treated the same and then there will be no arguing ever again. And he suggested that perhaps this proverbial shot glass may be chipped or have a crack down it soon they will all have nice neat shot glasses. Someone asks him about Emperor’s shot glass? Surely this would not only be perfect but have a gold rim too. This got others thinking perhaps it was time to overthrow the trinket obsessed Emperor and distribute his ornate egg collection to the masses.

This doesn’t sound like it lends itself to too much comedy, but if you imagine the scene played out with drunken characters who have had far too much Vodka, the slapstick potential is endless.

I approached Norman with the script and at first he was very polite. During our lunch we discussed many alternative ways of realising the film, as it soon became clear he wasn’t happy giving up his portrayal of the hapless Pitkin character. I pointed out that perhaps it was time for a change seeing as his classic films were now behind him and that perhaps he could portray an interpretation of Groucho by adding his own nuances to the character. He even was so bold to suggest that by copying the Marx Brothers I was being derivative and lacking original thinking. I said that surely if I was unoriginal then the film would already have been done by the Marx Brothers, and as they stuck to Vaudeville rather than progressing into political farce I was obviously bringing an original twist to the bio-pic.

But after the lunch, Norman graciously thanked me for the Lemon Soul and hailed a cab without ever committing to any of the ideas we discussed. I did see him once more after this at a Water Rats cricket match where Tim Rice got a respectable 60 not out and we both found ourselves cheering him as triumphantly returned to the pavilion. Norman looked over and said “We’ve met haven’t we?” and I explained we’d discussed the film proposal. Unfortunately he then caught the eye of someone else, I never saw who, and headed for the other side of the room, swiftly ending our conversation.

So there you have it. If you have a good idea for a film it is worth pursuing, but sometimes the ego of a star – even a fading one – can scupper your plans and you have to look else where for a ‘meal ticket’.

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.

"Life’s a Drag"

I was listening the other day to dear Kenny’s “Hand up your sticks” written by the oh-so-clever Peter Cook (who still owes me for the bet he lost about Ronnie Corbett’s boxer shorts – but as he’s passed on I’ll forget it for now) and it reminded me of the classic duo Julian and Sandy; weren’t they bold.

And then I recalled the sit-com I developed with Lance Percival and William Rushton, which I shall discuss for you here.

I remember suggesting the idea of a sit-com about an old folks home for Drag Queens when having lunch with Danny La Rue and Dick Emery and feeling a little left out when they compared dress sizes. So I diverted the conversation by suggesting we made a sit-com together called “Life’s a Drag”. I took the idea to my friends from TW3 and we bandied some ideas about.

After I fell out with Lance and Will (two separate incidences, neither of which I shall elaborate on at the moment) I took the script for a final ’spit and polish’ to my dear friend, Stuart Bookhouse. Known in comedy circles for his witty after dinner speeches at three Tory Party Conferences I felt he’d be perfect for a sit-com.

Thames TV provided us with a budget, not enough to attract Danny or Dick even though it was written for them, but we were lucky with our casting of Deryck Guyler and Frank Williams as the main heroes Charlie and Arthur.

Harold Snoad shot the first (and only) show for us in the Summer of 1973 in Maidstone, Kent, at a delightful old peoples home called Nazareth House – I wonder if it’s still there. Also joining the cast were Felix Bowness, as Ted the lawnsman, and Yootha Joyce, as Sheila the manager.

The basic plot revolved around Charlie and Arthur coming up with schemes to put on a show, allowing them to dress as Joanie and Betty, their drag alter egos. But whenever thy did dress up they’re get Ted all excited as he believed them to be really ladies and would consistently chat them up. Unfortunately for him they’d mention their ‘friends’ Charlie and Arthur, getting Ted quite riled at his love rivals – little knowing he was talking to them all along.

It was full of innuendo and polari, but unfortunately I can not find a copy of any of the scripts. But I do recall the following scene -

IN THE DRAWING ROOM

We find Arthur dressed as Joanie playing solitaire as Charlie (normal clothes) enters the room.

Charlie – Ooh look at you with your riah all zhooshed up. Ted, being the bold omi that he is, will think it’s his lucky day!

Joanie – Well if I varda him checking out my lallies again I’ll give him a piece of my mind

Charlie - I don’t think it’s a piece of your mind he’s after

Joanie – As long as he keeps his hands to himself tonight I think the whist drive will go swimmingly

Charlie – I wouldn’t bet on it, he’s right randy today. I just saw him up town buying some cologne – LOOK, for Men

Joanie – ‘Look for men’ – what a good idea, want to join me!

They both laugh as Sheila sternly walks in.

We even had a slogan ready for inclusion in the TV Times – “When they dress down they drag themselves up”. But alas the series was never commissioned.

Some say there was a backlash from ‘theatrical types’ who felt the final version of the script pried too much into their world. Some say the show was too risque with it’s overtly queer overtones.

But I think the fact a senior member of staff at Thames TV was revealed to be a transvestite in a shocking scandal that rocked weekday ITV may have had a part to play in the series being cancelled as we started program two.

As a side note I did hear rumour at the time that Dame Sybil Thorndike was appalled by it, but it wasn’t documented in Shedian’s superb biography of her, so I shall never know.

How much is an Arab worth?

Amongst the many shows I’ve tried to get off the ground over the years, I am particularly disappointed that the comedy panel show “How much is an Arab worth?” never made it as a series.

In reflection I think the name was a stumbling block. It was meant to read “Much much money does an Arab Gentleman have in his bank account?” rather than “How much can I buy an Arab Gentleman for?”. At the time I think my stubbornness shadowed my decision to stay with the name, and sent the pilot we made into obscurity.

What a shame. The show was such good fun. Chaired by the ever funny Cyril Fletcher (later to appear with Esther ‘toothsome’ Ransom on That’s Life!) the show featured 4 celebrity guests each week, dressed as Arab sheiks, trying to gain wealth around a circular Monopoly style game board situated behind Cyril’s head.

For the pilot (we actually referred to it as our ‘tryout show’ as the name ‘pilot’ wasn’t in use back in the day, I think it’s more common nowadays thanks to DVD extras or something) we had Reg Varney and Harry H Corbett on one side of Cyril, with Bill Pertwee and Trevor Bannister the other.

There were 5 rounds each week, the first being ‘Woman or Ass’, where the contestants got to barter with ‘an Arabian Market Stall holder’ (played brilliantly by Felix Bowness) for a wife. The 2 wittiest contestants (chosen by the studio audience’s clap-o-meter) got wives and the others got an ass each instead (wives mean two moves along the board and an ass is just one).

Round Two was ‘Oil and Water’ where the contestants had to answer general knowledge questions (we didn’t call it Triva back then you know). On the studio floor in front of Cyril there was a sand filled 5 by 5 grid which we claimed was taken from a desert (in fact the sand came from a brick layers in Teddigton). If they got a question right they could choose a square, and got a small shovel to help ‘dig’ for oil. If successful they got two moves on the circular board. If they found water they got one move (deserts can be dry and water does help), but if the square was just sand they stayed where they were.

Round Three was ‘Sinbad or Sin-good’ where our contestants had to guess if each other was lying or telling the truth about interesting facts about Arabia. I remember one fact being – eating with both hands is a sign of wealth and power as Sheiks have their own servants to wipe their bottoms after defecating and so don’t use either hand to wipe themselves. (I don’t remember if this was true or not, just the fact itself).

Round Four was ‘Selling Sand to the Arabs’ where the contestants paired up and had to recreate the classic ’sand dance’ made famous by Wilson, Keppel and Betty, along with that weeks female guests (in the pilot we had Pat Coombes and Anna Karen). The worst attempt resulted in that pair being eliminated, leaving two contestants for the final.

The final round was the deciding round between the last two contestants, known as ‘This Round Is In Tents’. They had to try and erect a Bedouin tent against the clock and move in their ‘wives’ or asses from round one (which meant a real life donkey for Bill Pertwee).

The eventual winner was Trevor Bannister, who was great fun and enjoyed every moment. He still mentions the show every time we meet at our Water Rats get together’s.

I was also disappointed the show never aired as we’d paid a lot of money for the shows opening animation featuring a comedy camel with a typical ‘tea cloth’ type head dress. I feel this type of character was later stolen by Yorkshire TV for Bully on Bullseye, and so have never spoken with Jim Bowen since.

But I shall leave you wishing to see the show for yourself, which unfortunately shall remain a wish as due to an argument in 1973 over the rights to my feature film “What A Calamity” (part of the illustrious ‘What A’ series of comedy’s, this one about Calamity Jane) the master tape of the show was thrown into Teddington Lock by a managing director from Thames TV.

Farewell for now, Max.

Good Evening one and all

Thank you for joining me here in the Media Museum where I shall discuss my career in Films and TV as well as muse over the state of the media today.

But for now I shall bid adieu as I have a full Sky Plus box and Kirsty and Phil are about to come on the TV and I don’t wish to miss them.

Max.