Steven Toast - Toast on Toast: Cautionary Tales and Candid Advice

Published in Great Britain in 2015 by Canongate Books Ltd,

14 High Street, Edinburgh EH1 1TE

www.canongate.tv

This digital edition first published in 2015 by Canongate Books

Copyright Matt Berry and Arthur Mathews, 2015

Toast of London originally produced by Objective Productions Limited for Channel 4.

The moral right of the author has been asserted

British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

A catalogue record for this book is available on request from the British Library

ISBN 978 1 78211 749 0
eISBN 978 1 78211 750 6

The images BBC Photo Library

Every effort has been made to trace copyright holders and obtain their permission for use of copyright material. The publisher apologises for any errors or omissions and would be grateful to be notified of any corrections that should be incorporated into future reprints or editions of this book.

Contents

Appendix A SELECTED THEATRE REVIEWS
19762009

Appendix B SELECTED PRODUCTION POSTERS
19762009

To Begin With,
A Cautionary Tale...

I N 1986, I received an invitation to take part in a BBC production called Its a Right Royal Knockout. The offer didnt come through my agent but via a man I met in a pub, who I later found out was one of Jeremy Thorpes many lovers. (One of Thorpes favourite pick-up lines was to approach attractive young men who were looking through the windows of Mayfair antique shops and enquire See anything you like? I have long been fascinated by Thorpe, as my father was once offered a peerage by the former Liberal leader in return for a massive donation to the party. He also became involved in a murder plot to kill one of Thorpes troublesome ex-lovers.)

This fellow I was chatting to in my favourite watering hole in Soho, the Colonial Club (of which more, much more, later) who cheerfully admitted that he had once attempted to blackmail Thorpe said he knew a colleague of Prince Edward and that this chap had informed him that the young royal had an idea to base a royalty-themed programme for the BBC on the format of Its A Knockout (a particularly popular though ludicrous game show of the time hosted by the notorious sex-pest presenter Stuart Hall). We were having quite a jolly time in the pub and were soon joined by a TV producer, Mews Frumpty, whom I knew through Ken Dodds personal skincare assistant. Frumpty was also very aware of Edwards plan (as he was the producer of the show) and in fact broke the news that I was in the frame to appear as one of the contestants.

As he explained, the idea was basically that Edward and other members of the Royal Family would captain four teams consisting of celebrities, politicians and sports people. The teams would play each other in silly and ridiculous games while the gullible general public watched at home and donated money to charity. The cash was initially proposed to go directly, tax free, to the Royal Family, but the Home Secretary at the time, Douglas Hurd, was reluctantly forced to intervene and politely suggest to Edward that it would be a more popular move with the general public to raise money for the homeless, old people, disabled, etc. (Ironically groups of people that somebody close to the Royal Family subsequently told me Princess Margaret absolutely loathed.)

At first the captains were meant to be Stuart Hall, Gary Glitter, Jimmy Savile and Leon Brittan, but at the suggestion of Princess Michael of Kent, it was decided that each team leader should be a royal, so Prince Edward, the Princess Royal (Anne Windsor), the Duke of York (Andrew Randy Andy Windsor) and the Duchess of York (Sarah Fergie Ferguson) were elected to take charge of the celebrities. (The first time they were elected for anything, quipped the famously republican and anti-royalist Dennis Skinner.) The celebs pencilled in to take part were a veritable whos who of British sport, politics and entertainment: Valerie Singleton, Des Lynam, Virginia Wade, Lord Hailsham, George Best, John Lydon, Vivienne Westwood, Eddie the Eagle and Melvin Bragg were all approached but either declined or were unavailable. However, Toyah Wilcox, Barry McGuigan, Christopher Reeve, Steve Cram, Tessa Sanderson, Sarah Hardcastle, John Cleese, Captain Beefheart, Nicholas Lyndhurst, Dame Tiri Te Kanawa, Duncan Goodhew, Debbie Flintoff, Gerry Adams, Cliff Richard, Emlyn Hughes, Jenny Agutter, Kevin Kline, Jackie Stewart, Peter Blake, Walter Payton, Virginia Leng, Sunil Gavankar, Anthony Andrews, Tom Jones, Sheena Easton, Mark E. Smith, Judy Simpson, Anneka Rice, Fiona Fullerton, Gary Lineker, Ben Dover, George Lazenby, Michael Palin, Nigel Mansell, John Travolta, Margot Kidder, Steve Podolski, Tamara McKinney, Meat Loaf, Pamela Stephenson, Brian Cooper, Mel Smith, Jane Seymour, Chris De Burgh, Viv Richards, Keith Richards, Gail Greenough, Michael Brandon, Ben Cross and Steve Cauthen agreed to take part. Im not usually star-struck, but this line-up seemed rather impressive (even though Id never heard of most of them). I told Frumpty then and there that I was interested.

After my participation in the programme had been confirmed, I was collected by car at about 6 a.m. on the day of the tournament to take me to the venue at Alton Towers, where a lavish set, based on Windsor Castle and costing several million pounds, had been constructed. No sooner had I arrived when I was met by my agent, Jane (who, as usual, was keen to hobnob with members of the Royal Family). She told me that the producers (including Frumpty) were in a hastily convened conference, as there were now some doubts about whether George Lazenby would take his place in the star-studded line-up. On seeing Prince Philip, the Australian actor and ex-model Finally, a deal was thrashed out where George would receive an extra two hundred and fifty pounds and would not be asked to deal with any flying vegetables or take part in any games which could be deemed disrespectful of Australia.

But then, quite unexpectedly, just as I was changing into my royal costume, I was hit by what can only be described as a whizzbang of a bombshell. Suddenly, from completely out of the blue, word emerged that the Jamaican singer Eddy Grant had expressed an interest in taking part in the show. (Grant was an eighties pop star, like Culture Club or Duran Duran, and by that point had had a string of two hits, I Dont Want To Dance and Electric Avenue.) As a result, I was ruthlessly and unceremoniously dropped to make way. I was obviously completely stunned. When I complained to Mews Frumpty, he told me in no uncertain terms to Go fuck yourself. Eddy Grant has expressed an interest in taking part; theres no room for you now, so sling your hook and fuck off home. When I asked for a car to take me back to my flat, I was told that none were available and that as the BBC were also unwilling to pay my train or bus fare I had little choice but to walk back to London. (After three miles, I eventually hitched a lift from a gypsy driving a horse and cart.) I was so disgusted by my treatment that I was physically sick and vowed never to get involved in a charity event involving the Royal Family ever again. (A vow I was to break a decade later, with equally disastrous consequences See Chapter 12.)