B enedict Cumberbatch: a name its impossible to read without wanting to say out loud. Its got that weird English crunchy compelling sexiness to it. Go ahead, say it right now. I dont care if youre on a bus or a train or a taxi or the end of a bungee cord say it. Scream it. Sing it. Everyone will join in; youll get a chorus going. Because the Cumberlove is catching. Ben-e-dict Cum-ber-batch. Bene-dict Cumberbatch . Benedictcumberbatch. Ah, its like a yogic mantra (btw, fact fans: Benedict himself is a yoga enthusiast, but more on that later).
Lets rewind past hobbits, star trekking, war horses and the worlds most famous sleuth back to the very beginning. Benedict Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch, to give him his full credentials, was born on 19 July 1976, the only child of actor parents Wanda Ventham and Timothy Carlton (for the purposes of this book theyll hereafter be referred to by the collective noun of Wimothy. Youve definitely glimpsed both of them before; they appear as Mr and Mrs Holmes in season three of Sherlock!). Wimothy were obviously overjoyed to welcome their overactive, skinny little baby, even if the rest of the world remained largely unaware that a superstar was slowly rising in an unassuming flat in the classy London borough of Kensington
Then, on 25 July 2010, the first episode of Sherlock screened in the UK and THE WORLD CHANGED. Sporting a shabby long coat (the sort that usually causes worried parents to desperately count their children), overgrown hair (think guinea-pig- atop-head ) and some sort of personality disorder (yes, we love him, but lets face it, hes also a full-on high-functioning sociopath with a less than healthy appetite for deduction and occasional violence), Benedict Cumberbatch won our hearts and minds in an instant, and gave sexy a new name. (And that name sounded a lot like Bandercoot Cabbagepatch )
But, of course, we dont just love him for his name. That would be shallow.
Theres also that chiselled Cumberface : you cant lay eyes on that skinny oval-meets-upside-down-triangle without wanting to stroke (or lick, lets be honest) those fine and defined cheekbones. The Cumbertones: a voice you cant hear without coming over all shivery, la Sherlock when confronted with a particularly gory murder. The Cumberbod: whether Sherlock-skinny or Star-Trek-leanly-beefed-up-muscle, hes 61/2 (that extra half an inch is all-important ) of long-limbed hugability. But most of all, we love the witty, intelligent, sexy Cumberbrain hes got stored in that weirdly-shaped, floppy-hair-covered skull of his. (See, we are not shallow.) As that lucky cow Irene Adler says of Sherlock, Brainys the new sexy. Youre preaching to the converted, Adler now, go put some clothes on.
My creature comforts? A whisky, the fire and a good book.
Benedict Cumberbatch
But his brain isnt Benedicts only amazing organ; theres also his massive Cumberheart! Whether hes galloping up to hug fans from far afield during TV interviews; writing politically-minded notes to the paparazzi (Go photograph Egypt and show the world something important); doing those modest little face-folds when people praise him (you know, that sort of chin-tuck where his neck seems to be eating his face); devoting time to charities like the Elton John AIDS Foundation; or worrying about the damage to feminism caused by the word Cumberbitch; Benedict has shown that hes far from a cold fish (despite all those internet memes comparing him to a hammerhead shark). Hes the good guy who also does an excellent job of playing the bad guy. Which makes him kind of perfect.
As I am not Benedict Cumberbatch (its one of lifes great tragedies that theres only one of him), I can never truly know what it is like inside that beautiful Cumbermind of his. However, by examining all the information we have about the Cumberman and his Cumberverse we can hopefully get our Sherlock on and do some hardcore deducing. Thus well come as close as possible to determining just what BEING BENEDICT CUMBERBATCH is all about. One things for certain: its gonna be Cumberlicious. (Oh, and therell be hot pics too.)
What a scarf up: Looking dapper at BALLYs 60 Years of Conquering Everest celebration, held at Bedford Square Gardens, London, in January 2013.
Naturally sun-kissed or victim of an overzealous make-up artist? Bbatch enjoys his moment in the sun at a Hawking photo-call at the Monte Carlo Television Festival, July 2004.
Having your adolescence at an all-male boarding school is just crap.
Benedict Cumberbatch
I N THE BEGINNING
I know its hard to imagine a time B.B. (Before Benedict), but apparently there was one. Actors Wanda Ventham and Timothy Carlton (aka Wimothy) met in 1970 while filming a drama series called A Family at War on location in Ireland. Thankfully they didnt let the gloomy title get them down and fell in love with each other almost immediately. Wandas first marriage, to businessman James Tabernacle (with whom she has a daughter, Tracy), had been on the rocks for some time and, though she insisted in an interview with the TV Times in 1979 that, Tim didnt break up the marriage, she acknowledges that he was the catalyst she required to make the break. I suppose he was what was needed to help me make the final decision. All divorces are unpleasant, but I was lucky because I had someone in my life to cushion me. Although she loved Tim, Wanda was reluctant to remarry given the outcome of her first marriage. But Tim finally persuaded her. Tim is a great romantic, which is really why in the end I decided I would remarry. So it was romance that made her say I do. (And maybe also the fact that she was with Cumberchild.)
The couple married in April 1976. Three months later, on 19 July, Benedict was born at Queen Charlottes Hospital in Hammersmith, London (incidentally, this is also the birthplace of actors Daniel Radcliffe, Mischa Barton and Dame Helen Mirren. Which begs the question: do they employ talent scouts as midwives?)
Benedict Cumberbatch had arrived.
CUMBERKID
Baby Benedict was pale, tall and hyper; a whirlwind he never stopped, according to Wanda. When he cried, Wimothy would carry him up to the roof of their top-floor flat in Kensington and leave him there in his pram for a little while, as the tiny Bbatch loved looking up at the sky. Hed stare in fascination at the expanse of blue (or more often, grey, this being London), stop crying and smile. When quizzed by the