449: Peter Cook and Dudley Moore - The Masked Phantom

Goodbye Again, 1968

Peter Cook as Reporter
Dudley Moore as the Masked Phantom

In which the aggressive wrestler is really a camp, artistically-inclined sissy. Basically, it’s an opportunity for Dudley Moore to camp it up once again - and at rather too long a length.

--------------------------------

REPORTER: Good evening. Tonight in Worldnewspectoramaprobe, we examine the controversial sport of wrestling. Last week, I went down to the Shoreditch gymnasium to see the Masked Phantom in training. . .

(Cut to the Shoreditch gymnasium)

REPORTER: Well, here I am at the Shoreditch gymnasium, and we're about to see a practice bout between the Masked Phantom, who is just over here behind me, and looking very confident - a very fit, compact and agile fighter. His opponent tonight is an extremely dour and tough northerner from Scunthorpe, the Scunthorpe Strangler. I'm just going to try and get a word with them before the fight begins. . .

(The bell rings. The wrestlers start fighting)

REPORTER: I think I'll probably leave now, and let them get on with it . . .

(The Scunthorpe Strangler picks up REPORTER, and hurls him out of the ring. The Masked Phantom wins the ensuing bout, and joins REPORTER for an interview)

REPORTER: Speculation has been raging up and down the country as to the true identity of this ferocious fighter. Tonight, for the first time in the history of the universe, the Masked Phantom rips off the mask and reveals his true identity.

(The Masked Phantom removes his mask, revealing the familiar features of Phantom)

PHANTOM: (very camp) Hello.

REPORTER: Good evening, Phantom.

PHANTOM: I wish you'd call me Tom.

REPORTER: Tom, wrestling's a pretty rugged sport. What made you go into it?

PHANTOM: I think really to prove myself as a man, you know. The whole Sir Francis Chichester, Round The Horn bit, you know.

REPORTER: I understand - to prove yourself as a man. Are these fights in any way ever fixed?

PHANTOM: (increasingly effete) Well, I can't speak for my colleagues in the profession, but speaking purely personally, you know, I go in that ring to be champ. I go in there to win. I become like some ferocious beast, you know - like some savage monster. I pull that mask over my head and something goes pop in my mind. And then something comes over me.

REPORTER: The mask, presumably?

PHANTOM: Right first time, cheeky chops. Whereas in real life, look at me now. Gentle, sensitive person - wouldn't hurt a fly.

REPORTER: Well, we have a chance to test the sincerity of the Phantom's words, as I happen to have a fly with me here in the studio, which I'm going to place in front of him and judge his reactions. Phantom, a fly for you.

(REPORTER takes a small box .from his pocket, and passes it to Phantom)

PHANTOM: A fly for you and a fig for me.

(Phantom opens the box)

PHANTOM: What a beauty! What a lovely creature! I think you're very cruel, keeping him cooped in here like that. (to the fly) Off you go, Ferdinand! (to REPORTER) Honestly, you are awful!

REPORTER: Proof positive, I think, of the Phantom's sincerity.

PHANTOM: If I may interrupt here, excuse me, but as Goethe, the great German poet said, die Liebe ist Alle - all you need is love, baby.

REPORTER: You mention Goethe. What are your favourite kind of books?

PHANTOM: Er, leather bound ones, mainly. You know, I love old things. Any old thing appeals to me. It's what they say about me down the gym, anyway.

REPORTER: Have you any interests outside the ring?

PHANTOM: My goodness gracious me, yes I have! Oh, yes! The people look at me and, you know, all they see is a great hunk of flesh. You know, I get branded as a wrestler, whereas in fact I'm interested in anything you care to mention - ceramics, pottery, sculpture, music, dancing, theatre. You name it, and I love it.

REPORTER: You mention theatre. What sort of roles do you see yourself in?

PHANTOM: Ooh, you're going to get me going, aren't you? Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. I know I'm stretching my neck out, but I love Shakespeare. You know, whatever anybody says about him, I adore that man. I'd love to have a go at his King Lear, for instance.

REPORTER: You see yourself as King Lear?

PHANTOM: Well, shall I say I feel it here within me, you know. But all I need is a good director to coax it our. I think, oh what's his name? Come on, mutton head! REPORTER Brook! REPORTER Brook could get a wonderful Lear out of me. He could get a wonderful anything, you know. I only wish I'd put myself up for Oedipus.

REPORTER: You're interested in the Greek theatre, too?

PHANTOM: (ecstatic) The Greek theatre! I've loved the Greek theatre ever since “Never On A Sunday”. All that music and dancing, the philosophy - I love it!

REPORTER: Have you been to Greece recently?

PHANTOM: I only put a little body oil on before the show. Does it show?

REPORTER: I meant the country.

PHANTOM: Oh, I thought you meant grease! I'm sorry! I'm miles away!

REPORTER: Outside all your interests such as the theatre and ceramics, I understand you're also something of a singer.

PHANTOM: Yes, I've waxed my first disc, actually, just recently.

REPORTER: And I believe that, rather unusually, you accompany yourself on your own body.

PHANTOM: Yes, I call it deep singing. It's actually just an extension of Paganini's dictum. You know, the great violinist, Paganini.

REPORTER: Yes.

PHANTOM: He used to say, 'Whenever I make love to a lady, I like to think I'm playing the violin.'

REPORTER: I wonder if you could give an example of your singing now?

PHANTOM: I'd be delighted. I'll just whip my cosie off.

REPORTER: Right. Here, accompanying himself on his own body, in “O For The Wings of A Dove”, the Masked Phantom.

PHANTOM: Don't laugh, now.

(sings) O for the wings, for the wings of a dove

Far away, far away would I roam

(speaks, to REPORTER) I feel a bit thin without the backing behind, but that's the sort of thing.

REPORTER: I think it's very promising, and I'm sure we all wish the Masked Phantom an immense hit with his first record.

PHANTOM: You're very sweet, thank you.

243: Gay Actors 6: Peter Cook and Dudley Moore

starts at 5:15



“Soap Opera” from “Behind the Fridge”, 1973
written by Peter Cook and Dudley Moore

I’ve also included a script for this sketch from “Goodbye Again”. Cook and Moore enjoyed improvising, and there are a lot of differences in lines and readings in the two versions.
This sketch was inspired by Peter Cook’s experience of hiring resting actors as his cleaners, and finding that they far preferred talking about acting to actually doing any cleaning.

Moore has the mincing walk, with his elbows held lightly to torso so that his hands are held limply forward, but I’d say that there’s some unabashed quality to his performance that is somehow a bit more contemporary. Maybe, it’s just that I like Peter Cook and Dudley Moore and so I’m willing to give them a bit more leeway. Or maybe, it’s just that a pair of jeans and a slightly revealing shirt make Moore’s character seem a bit more naturalistic when compared to the extravagant costumes of Dick Emery or John Inman. I’d say Moore’s is a more individual take on the stereotypical extravagant, almost ogling eye, in the conviction of his own coy charms. Otherwise, what you have is a demonstration of all the reasons that theatre is assumed to be a gay preserve. Acting is just another way of being camp for self-dramatising types.
If you like, why not compare the gay lawyer jokes here to those of the two camp judges in “Monty Python’s Flying Circus”.

------------------------------

SOAP OPERA (Plymouth Theatre, New York, 1973)

A doorbell rings. Peter opens the door. Enter Dudley)
DUDLEY: Hello, blue eyes. (Sings) There's no business like show business. . .
PETER: Excuse me. What can I do for you? DUDLEY: It's more of a question of what I can do for you, isn't it love? I'm your new daily, your new Mrs Mop.
PETER: You're the temporary domestic?
DUDLEY: Yes.
PETER: I'm sorry, I was expecting the agency to send me a woman.
DUDLEY (Laughs): Well, you'll have to make do with me then, won't you? Oh, I love your place. I think it's absolutely super.
PETER: Oh, thank you very much.
DUDLEY: You a bachelor?
PETER: Yes, bachelor gay - that's me.
DUDLEY: Me too. You may have guessed, this isn’t my normal sort of work.
PETER: Well, I did get an inkling when you came in through the door.
DUDLEY: No, I'm an actor, actually.
PETER: Oh, an actor.
DUDLEY: Yes, I'm resting between engagements, you know. Mind you, not that I don't like this sort of work. I absolutely adore it, because one gets to meet all sorts of interesting people. And I was terribly excited when I was assigned to you, because, do you know, I've never met a barrister before.
(Dudley sits down on the sofa)
PETER: Would you mind not sitting on my briefs?
DUDLEY (Picks up ribbon): What's this, dear?
PETER: It's the little pink ribbon I tie round my briefs.
DUDLEY: Oh well, that's our little secret. I suppose being a barrister is rather like being an actor, isn't it?
PETER: I don't really see the connection, no.
DUDLEY: Well, you call it 'acting for your client,' don't you?
PETER: In rather a different way.
DUDLEY: Of course you do - dragging up in all those lovely cosies and wigs, swishing round the courtroom, appealing to the jury. Ooh, gentlemen of the jury, I put it to you, my client has a foolproof alibi, on the night of the twentieth. . .
PETER: I can assure you it's nothing like that in court.
DUDLEY: I bet it is. I once played a QC in an Agatha Christie play in Croydon. They used to call me AC QC backstage. You get a lot of giggles in the profession.
PETER: Yes. The washing up is just through there.
(Peter points to the kitchen)
DUDLEY: Oh, bonky bonk, down to earth again. Wretch. Have you got any rubber gloves, dear?
PETER: Yes, Mrs Higgins keeps them by the sink.
DUDLEY: It's because I have a very sensitive skin, you know. I've only got to touch a flake of detergent and woosh - I get a terrible rash all over my body. And as an actor, you know, one can't afford that sort of thing in these days of full frontal. Gesture, expression, projection - one can't do all that with a spotty botty! (Laughs)
(Dudley picks up some records)
DUDLEY: Ooh, I see you like opera.
PETER: Yes, I do enjoy opera.
DUDLEY: (Looking through Peters records) Oh, Bona. . . Bona. . .
PETER: I don't know that one. Is that a new one?
DUDLEY: Silly.
(Dudley picks out a record)
DUDLEY: Ooh, Lucia di Lammermoor - one of my favourites. I love that bit where she comes out singing in her nightdress, and she sings that beautiful bit. Remember?
(Dudley sings from Lucia)
DUDLEY: I bet your Mrs Higgins doesn't do that for you.
PETER: No, but she does do quite a lot of washing up.
DUDLEY: Oh, touche. Well, sleeves up, gloves on. I'm the boy for liquid Joy.
(Exit Dudley. The telephone rings. Peter answers it)
PETER: Hello? What? Oh, I see. Hold on. (Shouts to the kitchen) It’s for you.
(Enter Dudley)
DUDLEY: Who is it, love?
PETER: It's some woman.
DUDLEY: Oh, wrong number, dear.
(Exit Dudley)
PETER: (Into I the telephone) Hello. . . It sounds very much like him.
(Shouts into the kitchen) She insists it's for you.
(Enter Dudley)
DUDLEY: Ooh . . .
PETER (Into the telephone): He's just coming.
DUDLEY (to Peter): Mmm . . . Thank you so much.
(Dudley picks up the telephone cautiously)
DUDLEY (Into the telephone): Hello, who is this? Oh, Gloria. I thought I was getting kinky phone calls. (TO Peter) It's my agent, the only woman in my life.
PETER: Well, she shouldn't be ringing you here.
DUDLEY (TO Peter): I quite agree. (Into the telephone) Gloria, we must be brief, otherwise I'll have the law on me. (TO Peter) Hope springs eternal. (Into the telephone) You're joking. . . Fantasticoissimay . . . Do I know the scene, dear? I've been rehearsing it for the last six weeks. When's the audition? Tomorrow morning, love? Oh, I can't possibly. . . Alright, alright love. I'll be there on the dot. Thank you so much. God bless you. Goodbye, sweetheart. . . Mmm . . .
(Dudley hands up)
PETER: What on earth was that all about?
DUDLEY: Oh, must sit down. I'm up for Othello. Oh, I say, you wouldn't do me a special favour, would you?
PETER: I very much doubt it.
DUDLEY: No, I mean you wouldn't just give me five minutes of your time and go through my lines with me, would you? Because I've got my audition tomorrow morning.
PETER: What about the washing up? You've hardly started on that.
DUDLEY: I'll work my fingers to the bone if you'll just give me five minutes of your time.
PETER: Just read through a few lines, that's all, then you promise to do some work?
DUDLEY: Cross my legs and hope to die. Have you got a copy of Othello?
PETER: Yes, I've got one somewhere.
DUDLEY: Oh, you are a brick.
PETER: Just a few lines.
(Peter fetches the book from the shelf)
DUDLEY: Could we do Act Five, Scene Two?
(Dudley looks at Peters book)
DUDLEY: Oh, you've got the same edition.
PETER: Yes, I rather go for Penguins.
DUDLEY: Mmm, each to his own, dear. Act Five, Scene Two is where Desdemona has dropped her hanky and Iago has been whispering all those awful things in Othello's ear.
PETER: Yes, I know the scene.
DUDLEY: A scene of tremendous jealousy. (To the audience) Oh, I know in my bones that I'm going to become Othello. (To Peter) When I play a part, love, I really am that part.
PETER: I can't promise to do the same for Desdemona.
DUDLEY: You'll be lovely. Here, why don't you wear your wig? It'll make you feel the part.
(Peter puts on his barristers wig)
DUDLEY: Ooh, you drag up beautifully. Line sixty three. Good Luck. Merde. (Recites, with brio)
By heavens I saw my handkerchief in's hand
O perjur'd woman! Thou dost stone my heart,
And mak'st me call what I intend to do
A murder, which I thought a sacrifice.
I saw the handkerchief.
PETER: (Recites, deadpan)
He found it then
I never gave it him. Send for him hither
Let him confess a truth.
DUDLEY: Oh, a bit more life, dear - a bit more vigour.
PETER: Oh, I see. You want something to bounce off, do you?
DUDLEY (Recites): He hath confess'd
PETER (Recites, passionately): What, my lord?
DUDLEY: Ooh! That he hath us'd thee.
PETER: How? Unlawfully?
DUDLEY: Ay.
(Dudley bangs his hand against the door)
DUDLEY: Ooh, bugger!
PETER: I don't have that in my text.
DUDLEY: What, dear?
PETER: I don't have a 'bugger' in my Penguin.
DUDLEY (Annoyed): I'll give you a bugger in your penguin, mate.
PETER: Could we get on? I'm just feeling the part of Desdemona.
DUDLEY: Where were we, love?
PETER: Line seventy one.
DUDLEY (Sing song): Oh, seventy one, never been done, queen of all the fairies.
PETER (Recites): He will not say so.
DUDLEY: No. His mouth is stopp'd.
Honest Iago hath ta' en order for't.
PETER: O! My fear interprets. What! Is he dead?
DUDLEY: Had all his hairs been lives, my great revenge
Had stomach for them all.
PETER: Alas! He is betray'd and I undone.
DUDLEY: Out, strumpet! Weep'st thou for him to my face?
PETER: O! Banish me, my lord, but kill me not!
(Peter grabs Dudley)
DUDLEY: Blimey! You didn't half give my left nipple a going over. It's gone all perky!
(Recites) Down, strumpet!
PETER: Kill me tomorrow! Let me live tonight!
(Peter grabs Dudley again)
DUDLEY: Not the other one! Ooh, I'm all aglow! (Recites) Nay, if you stay . . .
PETER: But half an hour!
Peter grabs Dudley again)
DUDLEY: Here! (Recites) Being done, there is no pause.
PETER: But while I say one prayer!
DUDLEY: It is too late.
Dudley grabs Peter by the throat and chokes him)
PETER: Oh, Lord!
Dudley wrestles Peter to the couch and chokes him)
DUDLEY: Bloody fabulous! You've acted before, haven't you? (Peter is dead)
DUDLEY: Oh, my God. I went over the top again. Ooh, now I can have my first go at mouth to mouth resuscitation.
(As Dudley bends over Peter, he observes the audience, watching him)
DUDLEY (Into the wings): Here! Curtain! Curtain!
(Dudley bends over Peter again, as the curtain falls)

205: Jeremy Thorpe 23

“Entirely A Matter For You” by peter Cook
“The Secret Policeman’s Ball”, 29 and 30 June 1979

Although only performed for the final two dates of “The Secret Policeman’s Ball”, this monologue by Peter Cook is rightly acclaimed as one of the high spots of 20th century English satire. “The Secret Policeman’s Ball” was a benefit performance in aid of Amnesty International from 27-30 June 1979. Most of the Oxford and Cambridge-educated comedians of the last twenty years gathered to perform their greatest hits for charity. However, a review printed on the morning of the third performance by the “Daily Telegraph”asking where was the satire, stung Peter Cook into writing this stinging parody of Justice Cantley’s summation at the Thorpe Trial. Cook attacked Cantley’s obviously biased and systematic blackening of the prosecution witnesses, and the typical egotistical but cack-handed self-regard of a judge who finds he has the stage. The Trial had only concluded on the 22nd of June. In an age before constant 24 hour commentary on numerous multi-media platforms the case was still relatively fresh news, and Cook encapsulates a moment of outrage at Establishment privilege in the best immediate manner of live cabaret. An edited version of it was printed in the 6 July, 1979 edition of “Private Eye”. To cash in on its notoriety it was also released as a mini-disc “Here Comes the Judge”.

Cook’s performance of a clapped-out judge allows him to weave senile confusion and bigotry with his own distinctive wordplay. So the matter of homosexuality causes him to confuse “he”s with “she”s, “mr”s with “mrs”s, husband with wives, and impute effeminacy all over the place.

Peter Bessell becomes “Bex Bissell” a brand of vacuum cleaner. Cantley had described Bessell as “a humbug”.

Norman Scott becomes Norma confused with Norman St John Stevas, a Tory minister. Cantley described Scott as “a liar”, “a crook”, “a fraud”, “a sponger”, “a whiner”, “a parasite”. "Pink oboe" is supposedly a piece of slang from Glasgow donated by Billy Connolly who was one of the performers, although there is 1959 episode of "The Goons" entitled "The Spy, Or Who Is Pink Oboe?". “Chews pillows” refers to when Thorpe first sodomised Scott back in 1962 - it was so painful Scott had to bite down to stop himself shouting out. An occasional piece of graffiti from this time read “Norman bites pillows”. “Gleadle” is a very Peter Cook-type name, but he was indeed Scott’s physician for a while

Andrew is confused with Olivia Newton-John, a bland female pop singer of the time. Much of Cantley’s summing of Newton was devoted to damning him for his incompetence as an attempted murderer.

Jack Hayward = Haywire, and Nadir Dinshaw = Rickshaw and opportunity to use blatant racism to sway Cook’s fictional jury

133: Tom Driberg 5 - Peter Cook

From "Monday Morning Feeling" in “The Daily Mail”, 27 June 1977

LIFE QUEER
I am sorry Tom Driberg, or Lord Bradwell as the old snob became, has left out all the really juicy bits from his autobiography “Ruling Passions”, the highly enjoyable story of a poof with a sense of humour who spent a great deal of time picking up working-class lads in public lavatories. He tells us almost nothing of his infinitely more interesting activities with his colleagues in the Labour Patty, not to mention his dealings with certain prominent Tories. Being a man of wide-ranging interests it would not surprise me if he'd been on more than nodding terms with members of the Liberal Party.

As a matter of fact, a predilection for working-class youths is probably as good a reason as any for joining the labour movement. Alas, I was too middle-class for Tom and he never made the remotest pass at me - apart from one rather lingering handshake when he delivered his excellent crossword to “Private Eye”. At his burial, there was a very dignified Mass. When the body had been sprinkled with Holy Water and the black cloth removed from the coffin, the Red Flag was revealed. I don't think this joke was up to Tom's real standards. I had been hoping for a naked working-class lad to spring from under the shroud and shout some slogan for Gay Lib.

-----------------

Despite the use of the rough-and-ready language typical of the ‘70s, this is a largely affectionate memoir by Cook, the proprietor of “Private Eye”. Certainly, the humorists and satirists of “Private Eye” are a lot more charitable and understanding towards Driberg than the moralising journalists who reviewed “Ruling Passions” ever were. Maybe they found him ridiculous and unreliable, and they’re far from respectful, but they acknowledged he was he was part of real life. Thier jokes about the satisfactions of lust are hoteful. The newspaper reviewers of “Ruling Pasions” also knew Driberg personally, but they chose instead to pour from a height of disgust such venomous obliquy and condemnation as to bury what remained of him under a reputation as a filthy sexual offender in stark 20-point newsprint.

The gibe about “Liberals” may be either a sarcasm about the uselessness of the Liberals, or an allusion to the revelations of homosexual intrigues surrounding Jeremy Thorpe slowly trickling out for the last year or so.

11 - Beyond the Fringe

“Bollard” by Peter Cook, in “Beyond the Fringe”, 1961

Cameraman: Alan Bennett
Peter Cook
Jonathan Miller
Dudley Moore

If I were slightly more technically adept I would splice these two into one clip. Unfortunately I’m not. So you’ll have to start at 7:23 on the first clip and continue on the second clip until 00:47

For several hundred years, all material performed on the British stage had to be submitted to the Lord Chamberlain, who could then vet and censor as he felt necessary. Throughout the 1950s, American plays by Arthur Miller and Tennessee Williams, and even such a vague, self-contradictory piece like “Tea and Sympathy”, were banned from the British Theatre for their mild homosexual content. The upshot of this, is that any representations of gay people did not appear on the popular stage.
The scripts for the sketches in “Beyond the Fringe” therefore all had to be submitted to the Lord Chamberlain. The only sketch which was censored was this one, “Bollard”.
The characters were not allowed to call each other, “love”. And even more bizarrely, the stage directions themselves had to be amended at the Lord Chamberlain’s instruction. “Enter two outrageous old queens” had to be changed to “Enter two aesthetic young men”.
Note the use of that THAT hand gesture just before the sketch cuts to black.

“Beyond the Fringe” set the trend for smart, adult-oriented humour. Therefore, most of the cartoons and sketches I can find from this period come from the satire-oriented venues: TV sketch shows like “That Was The Week That Was”, and “Private Eye” magazine. Previously, one couldn't even hint at homosexuals in serious drama. Now, the mention of homosexuality was a part of the new sophisticated comedy, one of the freedoms afforded by a new more liberal contemporary society.
Although, there wasn't the freedom to be homosexual yourself.