And, oh yes, the second installment of Doctor’s Neglect? is overflowing with juicy drama. It quickly kicks into gear with a visibly strained Dr Warner taking to the stand to provide his testimony. At first, his counsel builds his confidence and easily dispels his fears that a court environment serves only to magnify the negatives. Fry, however, has Warner lashing out within seconds as he boxes him into the corner and lays bare Warner’s short fuse. Next to take to the witness stand is Nurse Dowling (Jacqueline Stanbury), a discarded lover of Warner’s who, until this point, has mostly consisted of nothing but a series of awkward glances directed towards Warner. And, no spoilers, it’s a brief slip of the tongue from Dowling which threatens to gift Fry his most straightforward case since prosecuting that fellow with a swag bag over his shoulder.

In comparison to its preceding installment, the final episode is a slight comedown but certainly no less enjoyable. Warner continues to battle with Fry to save his career, but with Fry suddenly called away on urgent business, it appears his understudy may well let this simple catch slip through his fingers. Drama of a less legal variety also emerges outside the courtroom as Warner and Dowling show signs of rekindling their casual romance, and there’s also a nice hint that Mrs Simpson has been indulging in more than legal assistance with Fry. Waddington delivers his verdict that… well, just watch it, and there’s time for some quick banter from the dewigged barristers before the credits roll.

Despite its slow start, Doctor’s Neglect? soon sucked me in thanks to the script from Paul Wheeler – who went on to write several more episodes of Crown Court– which, although far from complex, contains some excellent dialogue that the talented cast sink their teeth into. So, have I reached a verdict? Yes, Crown Court is guilty of making a fine first impression on me. Being a pilot, not everything made its way through to the series proper, and it’s far from perfect, but the seeds of intrigue have been sown and I will most certainly be back for more.

Recommended reading:https://fulchestercrowncourt.wordpress.com/

As a child I wasn’t allowed to watch a lot of television. I am an only child and, as such, was pushed into each and every club available. Because of this I would treasure my televisual viewings, elevating them to something greater than they possibly were in some cases. Much of this I viewed with my late mum, and so although my experiences were somewhat limited, they were carefully curated.

I’m certain I didn’t appreciate this at the time, but I now see that the comedies, dramas, music shows and murder mysteries I viewed when I was younger made me develop a discerning eye where television is concerned. One programme which stood out for me was Grange Hill. It was unlike anything I had seen on television. Many of my peers were not permitted to watch, as some of the subject matter was deemed unsuitable; it was the opposite in my house.

Grange Hill truly was ground-breaking; it showed school life predominantly from a young person’s viewpoint and had real, flawed, likeable, loveable, relatable, memorable characters. I wanted to be best friends with Fay and Annette. The fact that you can put the name “Roland” in front of virtually anyone around my age (21. Ish. Obvs) and they will, with glee, pronounce it “Row – LAND” is testament to the brilliance of this show some 30 years on. Topics such as teacher infatuation, child abuse, teenage pregnancy, accidental death, racism, bullying all featured; but were dealt with in a way which didn’t scare the viewer. It drew them in, gently, and had a healthy dose of light-hearted comedy moments.

Grange Hill also gifted us two of the best on-screen teachers; Messrs. Baxter and Bronson. Mr Baxter was the no-nonsense PE teacher; strict but always with his pupils’ best interests at heart. He was respected by peers and pupils alike and showed some extremely caring moments towards his charges. Mr Bronson was a force of nature; fastidious, extremely high standards; not a typical Grange Hill teacher (he had been inherited in a merge with Rodney Bennett and Brookdale where, at the former, he had taught French and Latin). And he wore a toupee. Children can have a cruel streak and this brought out both the best and the worst in them. And yet we eventually see a human side to him, almost a kindness.

This programme showed pupils demonstrating, striking, debating; all to have their voices heard. It showed how even the most despondent and forgotten of students could respond in the hands of a good teacher. It wasn’t afraid to illustrate the consequences of the pupils’ actions as we saw in its most shocking and memorable storyline: Zammo’s decline into drug addiction. This included a huge campaign with the characters visiting the White House and having a hit single, Just Say No, again evidence of just how important and influential this programme was.

It's always a risk to revisit a pre-loved show, especially from one’s childhood. So much is tied up in nostalgia and not necessarily quality or content. However, when BritBox started airing Grange Hill I couldn’t resist. It is with much relief I can report that it didn’t disappoint. As an adult, I can more easily acknowledge and appreciate just how remarkable this show was. So many of its actors have gone on to other programmes or had lasting careers in other areas such as directing or producing. Some have dabbled with music careers but we’ll gloss over that…

Grange Hill was, and is, a very special show and I am so grateful that I was allowed to watch it. Perhaps mum did know best.

Twitter: @gaddersll

What's this? Astronauts? A sitcom written by Bill Oddie and Graeme Garden? And there's more? It was script edited by Dick Clement and Ian La Frenais?

Yes, that's right, it's not April Fools Day at Curious British Telly, Astronauts is a bona-fide sitcom, one which is shot through with a comedy pedigree of such renown, it's a surprise hardly anyone's heard of it. And Astronauts is a series which has made a decent stab of establishing itself, with two series airing and a DVD boxset of the entire thing emerging in 2012. Nonetheless, a recent mention of it on the Curious British Telly Twitter feed resulted, mostly, in a procession of puzzled faces, punctuated only occasionally by someone who vaguely remembered it. So, Astronauts, what's it all about and what's it like?

Astronauts

I was rather bored yesterday, it was Sunday after all, so I decided to do something productive with my time. Not surprisingly, it resulted in a 10-hour video loop of the theme tune to Chock-a-Block. And, as I think you'll agree, the result was more than worth it.

Interestingly, I was flicking through a TV encyclopaedia in a bookshop a few years ago and was not only surprised to find an entry for News at Twelve but also by the nugget of information that NBC had recorded a pilot for an American version in 1991 which was never broadcast and didn’t go to series. That’s a shame as I think it could have worked really well in America.

In terms of acting, things fizzled out pretty quickly; Lewis Rudd, who was head of children’s TV at Central wanted me to go into their kids’ sketch show Your Mother Wouldn’t Like It and arranged an audition for me for that, but it didn’t work out. I recorded another Central pilot for a 'kids doing impressions' panel show where I was one of the team captains but that never made it to series.

I did a very short stint on a daytime talk show for Central called Gas Street with the unlikely presenting duo of Suzi Quatro and Vince Hill in the summer of 1988 and later that year, the BBC asked me to audition for the part of a 13-year-old boy in a gritty Screen Two drama so I went down to TV Centre to try out for that but, despite actually being 13, I was by that stage at least 5’11” or maybe 6’0” so I looked more like a 16/17 year old and I would have towered over the actor playing my father, Ralph ‘Dear John’ Bates, so that was a no go.

I wasn’t all that bothered about continuing with acting, I think I probably knew I’d been lucky to get a perfect role that felt like it could have been specifically written for me and wasn’t sure I had the versatility to do much else. I’m sure if someone had offered me something amazing, I would have done it, but with News at Twelve soon being forgotten, I was very happy to just get back to normal school life. 

The experience clearly sowed seeds however as I have spent the least twenty-three years working in TV as a comedy producer here and in the USA. I have done every episode of the soon to be axed Mock the Week since it began in 2005, nearly 200 episodes of the American version of improv show Whose Line is it Anyway? and numerous other formats here and across the pond including They Think It’s All Over, Big Fat Quiz of the Year and even a short but memorable stint on How Clean is Your House?"

Ewan Phillips isn't, of course, the only actor in News at Twelve and he's ably assisted by a fine supporting cast. In fact, the full cast list is rather special as Phillips recalls:

"The thing that still stands out for me is the quality of the cast, something I was really aware of at the time. So many great British character actors just turning up for little parts and as a bit of a TV anorak, I loved just being in their company, seeing how they went about their business and hearing their stories.

Julia Foster played my mum for example, Patrick Malahide was my headmaster, two proper film and TV actors who were both in quite a few scenes with me and they did everything they could to make me feel at ease. The list of the others is amazing: Sheila Fearn from Likely Lads, Kevin Lloyd from The Bill, Rebecca Lacey from Home to Roost, Mark Billingham who is of course now a best-selling crime writer and veterans like Frank Mills, Constance Chapman and Walter Sparrow who had worked with everyone in everything in their careers.

Even the cameos were bizarre for a small children’s TV show, there was one scene where we did a school football match scene and Cyrille Regis, the Coventry and England striker turned up to be the referee. Another one, there was a story about a stolen school library book or something and in Crimewatch style I said the line: “We have staged a reconstruction using actors” and the “actors” were Jim Bowen and John Junkin in full Shakespearean garb hamming it up. I’m still not sure how they pulled all that off. Jim Bowen and John Junkin actually came out to the school in Smethwick to record that little bit in its drama theatre.

Also, I should mention Liz May Brice who played my girlfriend, Tina, and went on to become a very successful TV and film actress. I ran into her at the National TV Awards about ten years ago and we had a drink and caught up, jokingly discussing pitching News at 40 to ITV"

And it's a very funny series too, with plenty of gags sprinkled throughout the series - one of my favourites (for some reason) comes when schoolboy Barry Sykes (Richard De Sousa) claims that when he asked to see a solicitor - whilst being accused of leaking exam answers - he was simply shown a picture of Rumpole of the Bailey. Oh and there's all manner of "traffic report" comedy to be mined when there's a pileup at the pasta counter - aka Spaghetti Junction - in the local shop. Also, the report on a 'black hole' in Kevin's street perfectly nails the deadpan absurdism when it debates whether it's down to a build up of galactic matter or just a hole that British Telecom have dugs. See, I told you it was funny.

I've covered many hidden gems of British television on this blog, but News at Twelve is easily at the top of the pile in terms of quality. Its unique approach is something that, for the life of me, I can't recall in any other children's programme and it's been a pleasure covering it. As ever, its frustrating that there's no footage readily available for others to take a look, but Ewan Phillips suspects that, somewhere, he's got a video with all six episodes on. In the meantime, you'll just have to take it from me that it's a fantastic helping of innovation, entertainment and comedy, and what more could you ask for?

Many thanks to Ewan Phillips for his excellent answers and these additional photos of life on set:

NeTWork 21, of course, was not London’s first pirate TV station. The first band of UHF liberators to emerge from the capital were known as Thameside TV. The organisers of the station had already been running the similarly illegal Thameside Radio since 1977 and, in early October 1984 they broadcast The Beatles’ Yellow Submarine film alongside some music videos. And then, just 24 hours later, a further broadcast was made by Channel 36. This station was founded by Jim Young and acted as the backdrop for Waveview Holdings – a company looking to develop and sell a suitcase sized transmitter. Once the Department of Trade and Industry had issued them a test and development certificate, Channel 36 ceased their broadcasts.

Thameside TV were not finished, though, and their final broadcast came in December 1984. This rather grainy transmission saw Thameside TV founders Sarah and Bob sat by a Christmas tree as they introduced music videos. Much like Telstar TV and Channel 36 before them, Thameside were making bold statements about the lack of freedoms associated with television. The launch of the ‘alternative’ Channel 4 had, two years previously, been seen as an exciting revolution in television, but these illicit broadcasts were completely off the scale. The pictures and sound were far from perfect, but it was an exhilarating start and one which sent ripples through the industry. And, I don’t know if it’s just me, but who isn’t charmed by a pair of so-called pirates sat by a Christmas tree and introducing Do They Know it’s Christmas?

But, following this festive broadcast, Thameside TV disappeared from the airwaves just as swiftly as Telstar and Channel 36 had. Nonetheless, despite having a relatively small audience in North and West London, Thameside TV had contributed to a buzz which was building around the concept of pirate television. The only thing the pirate channels had failed to do so far, aside from a few continuity links, was deliver some original programming. But, just under two years later in April 1986, another pirate television channel would emerge. One which would embrace unique and innovative programming. And one for whom its identity would be deeply ingrained in every single second it was on the air.

Founded by fellow Europeans Bruno and Thomas, NeTWork 21 would be unlike anything seen on British television before. With a firm footing in London’s highly creative and underground arts scene, NeTWork 21 delivered a weekly half-hour programme at midnight every Friday for around six months. And when I say these packages were unlike anything that had been seen on British television, this is not hyperbole. It truly was innovative and unique.

TV Pirates

When it came to location, we were lucky as a friend of ours was an estate agent in Crystal Palace, which is where all the television transmitters were. So, we were high up and had the keys to somewhere we could put the aerial up, transmit a half-hour programme, take it down and leave all within two hours. The aerial was big, about four times as big as a standard television aerial. If somebody was looking for it then they would have been able to see it. But you had to get access to the building and a key to get in to where we were. It would have taken the police a while to get in.

We weren’t worried, que sera sera! But the equipment wasn’t cheap and we wouldn’t have been able to replace it. That’s why the episodes were half an hour, our calculation was that this was how long it would take the authorities to track down where we were. But, by that point, we would be long gone.

What was the process for getting material for the programmes and the production side of things?

We were well connected within the arts scene in London, so we knew lots of independent film makers, up and coming pop artists and lots of people who were involved with producing videos and television broadcasts. And some of these were able to get hold of cut offs, material that wasn't transmitted on the main channels. Sometimes it might just be a five second clip, one that comes to mind was Margaret Thatcher saying “I don’t know about a facelift, I haven’t had one yet” and we put that in. You couldn’t plan any of it really. Some weeks, what came in, it was very thin and then we would use footage from old Andy Warhol films. But we did quite a lot of filming, so that was interesting.

We did an extended programme one time where we followed Lanah Pillay for half an hour, a continuous tracking shot. You had time to do whatever you wanted to do. This could be dipping into short clips or something quite in depth like the Lanah Pillay piece. Or talking about things that were normally reserved for highbrow arts programming, but then juxtaposing this with pop records. It was all really mixed up and you never knew what was going to happen from one minute to the next. It was our world put together and broadcast on the television.

What was the long term plan for NeTWork 21?

We were hoping that something would happen with it, or somehow we would get some kind of recognition but we never really got that. We never achieved this because it was positioned so far outside of how things were done; I don't think it would have made any sense to television executives. At the time, apart from Top of the Pops, there was very little that would qualify as youth television. And one of the things that did happen, after us, was Network 7 on Channel 4 with Janet Street Porter, who said that that the inspiration for it came from watching NeTWork 21. So I suppose, in a way, we did start something off.

Why do you feel that pirate television didn’t take off in quite the same way that pirate radio did? Do you think it was down to the financial aspect involved?

It's difficult to say. The difference between radio and television is that, at the time, we didn’t think you could run repeats like they do now on the BBC. As far as we were concerned, once you've done one idea that idea is done. And you can't do it again. Whereas radio was all about the playlist and it revolved around playing the same music again and popularising certain music and artists. A lot of it was black music which you didn't hear anywhere else. That's why pirate radio became successful.

Television, on the other hand, it took people like us who didn’t care about money. We were on the dole, doing oddjobs here and there, we were unique. As for the costs, well, they wanted £10,000 for the aerial and we only had £1500. We could get video editing done fairly cheaply, but even if you went in at midnight you had to pay the engineer something. The only people we got to help us were Mute Records, Wimbledon Theatre and we had a bit of a tie-in with Sigue Sigue Sputnik who featured an advert on their album. But we also did fundraiser nights at The Fridge, Limelight and Heaven which were jammed full of people, up to 2,000 at Heaven.

I believe that, at the time, NeTWork 21 was featured on the BBC, so what happened there and what was the impact of this publicity?

We got a really good plug on BBC2. There was a programme called Did You See? with Ludovic Kennedy and he showed a couple of clips from one of our broadcasts. We were actually contacted direct by the BBC who requested the NeTWork 21 title sequence and some footage. So, early on, it ended up on national television. And from then on it became major news, all over the press from The Guardian to Just Seventeen. It was so innovative that it went all around the world and was shown in art spaces in Amsterdam and Tokyo. Out of that, we got some contacts at Toshiba EMI and ended up making some pop videos.

In 1986, the internet was still several years off and something like YouTube would have been completely unthinkable. But was a platform like YouTube, where anyone could broadcast, your ultimate aim?

The aim was to get a television licence, something localised, and we showed that it was possible to do it. All the expensive television equipment which was available, that was seen as a necessity, we showed that it wasn’t really necessary. If you wanted to produce programming, you really could do it on the cheap. For instance, the cameras, we didn't pay for the cameras. Sony contacted us and said you can have two of these cameras provided you talk in the press about Sony Video 8. They knew this was a big thing and they wanted to get involved in it early on.

There were several press articles, in 1988, which stated that NeTWork 21 was planning to return with two-hour broadcasts. But these transmissions never materialised, so what prevented this?

We were looking for investment and there was also talk of broadening the broadcast spectrum at the time. There was a lot of discussion going on about deregulating the airwaves. And we were trying to position ourselves so that we might be able to get something going in the near future. While this was going on we also started a radio station which mostly played indie music. But then I got offered a very well-paid job running the best club in London. I had to take it on as it was an offer I couldn’t refuse.

How do you feel, 35 years on, about NetTWork 21? And would you do it all over again?

The whole of the 80s was a fantastic time. I would do it all again and do it exactly the same way again. Not many people know about it, but occasionally students get in touch looking for words of wisdom. But, these days, the conversation has moved on. But, looking back, I’m very proud of what we achieved.

Many thanks, Thomas, for what has been a fascinating and exciting chat.

So, that’s the definitive story on NeTWork 21. It’s a compelling tale and one which genuinely feels like a revolutionary step, a feat that few people ensconced within the safety of television’s status quo will attempt. Thomas and Bruno’s desire to bring about a cultural change is admirable and the way they achieved their vision is as daring as it comes. And it’s one that remains unparalleled in the history of British television.

Audience figures for NeTWork 21 are difficult to estimate but it’s believed that between 50,000 to 100,000 viewers could have tuned in. The transmitter had a range of around 10 miles so, in a densely populated area such as London, this had the potential to garner a significant audience. And you can’t help but wonder what they would have made of this new frontier in programming. NeTWork 21 was young, exciting and enshrined in a do-it-yourself mentality. The channel espoused an artistic bent which was barely represented within the mainstream and brought it into people’s front rooms. Yet, whilst it was the highpoint of pirate television in the UK, NeTWork 21 appears to have been the final hurrah for such an enterprise. Since the channel made its last transmission there have been no further instances of pirate broadcasts reported in the UK.

But, crucially, the spirit of the channel is more prevalent than ever in the 21st century. All you have to do is hop on to YouTube and, within minutes, you can be broadcasting about anything, no matter how niche it is. All you need is a smartphone and you’re ready to go. Were Thomas and Bruno, therefore, the original YouTubers? Well, I think that may do them a slight disservice. Their path to transmission was littered with substantially more risk and hurdles compared to today’s bedroom broadcasters. Nonetheless, the desire to represent their generation and provide it with a voice is the same. And, fingers crossed, future generations will remain just as innovative and articulate.

Originally published in issue three of the Curious British Telly fanzine.

However, the UK was not far off from the world of Satellite Television. As more countries began broadcasting Satellite Television in 1982, the channel caught the attentions of Rupert Murdoch’s News International and, in June 1983, they became the majority shareholder in Satellite Television. Plans were quickly made to launch the service in the UK – where Satellite Televsion was based – but first a rebranding was required and it was renamed Sky Channel. Broadcasts were, as per the rest of Europe, piped through cable systems with the Radio Rentals Cable TV network in Swindon the first to carry Sky Channel. This launch came on 16th January 1984 and featured Kate Bush cutting the ribbon on a TV at Sky’s headquarters to announce it open.

So, Sky Channel was now live in the UK, but what could the 10,000 viewers in Swindon expect to see? Well, the schedule was two things: not very long and not very British. Sky Channel was only on air between  5 – 10pm although an extra three hours had been added come April of that year. Meanwhile, whilst Satellite Television had carried homegrown shows such as The Rag Trade, Please Sir! and Hadleigh, Sky Channel suddenly found this content off limits. 

Negotiating contracts in the new world of cable television was a dangerous landscape in which to set price precedents and, more importantly, the standard broadcast repeat fees were far in excess of what Sky could afford (around $2000 per hour in 1984). And these are the main reasons that Sky gave for BBC, ITV and Channel 4 programmes being absent. There was, indubitably, the small matter of the old guard not wanting to directly aid the competition, but everybody was far too professional to say this out loud.

Viewers were, instead, treated to repeats of Fantasy Island,Starsky and Hutch and A Country Practice alongside the occasional film and live concert. Sky’s dedication towards sports was also evident with shows dedicated to American Football and ice hockey, but live English football would remain out of reach for several years. In-house productions by Sky Channel, meanwhile, would not take long to get off the ground with Sky-Fi Music first appearing at the end of July 1984.

Sky-Fi Music was a low-budget music video programme ‘set’ in a satellite above the earth where a presenter would provide links in between all the latest music videos. The main set of presenters were Tony Blackburn, Pat Sharpe and Greg Davies, but there was also room for guest presenters each week such as Tom Robinson, Tony Hadley and Holly Johnson. It may appear far from innovative by today’s standards, but in 1984 it brought a nice dose of MTV-style programming to British shores, although it’s fair to say that Tony Blackburn was far from cutting edge and youth orientated even 35 years ago. Nonetheless, he presented with a slick vigour and the programme was in safe hands.

Unfortunately, almost all – if not every single second, of Sky Channel’s output was junked many, many decades ago. Due to the rather small audience, very little exists in the form of home recordings, but YouTube is home to several clips (including the launch party).

As 1984 progressed, Sky Channel was made available to more regions through the Rediffusion cable network (for £4.95 per month along with the Screen Sport and Music Box channels) but the potential audience remained tiny compared to the terrestrial channels. Profits would remain non-existent for several years with only Rupert Murdoch’s deep pockets keeping it afloat. But it was an ambition to push forwards with a new age of television which can only be admired.

Rupert Murdoch’s influence on our society and culture is one which prompts passionate debate, but it cannot be argued that he changed the face of British television. Whether this was for the good of our culture is another matter. Nonetheless, in 1984 the emergence of Sky Channel promised a bright future and a world of choice which would rapidly multiply beyond anything we had seen before.

Originally published in issue one of the Curious British Telly fanzine.

The programme was a combination of in-camera comedy vignettes featuring puppets and characters in costume, and pre-recorded educational films. Imagine Sesame Street on some especially powerful mushrooms and you get the general idea. Produced by the Head of HTV Wales Children’s Television, Peter Elias Jones, and written by Clive Roberts and John Pierce Jones, it was recorded at the channel’s Pontcanna studios in Cardiff and featured a rather catchy theme tune: Blue Bottle by The Frank Barkley Group.

It’s a programme with connections to a murder, Welsh Beatlemania, a hit single, Welsh rugby, Max Boyce and a late-night adult version that didn’t quite take off. Through various cloak-and-dagger operations, I managed to arrange a time to talk to Dafydd Hywel over the phone. We covered a lot. I first asked him how he got into acting:

“Well, in 1968, I was part of the Welsh National Theatre of Wales in the Welsh Language which was unusual because most Welsh people became either preachers or teachers. There were four of us chosen to be trainee actors with the company. I was actually in my final year in Swansea and I didn’t pass my exam to be a teacher. I went up to one of the theatre companies and the boss told me to go back and resit the exam so I’d have something behind me. I resat and I passed. I was offered a teaching job in Llysfen in Cardiff – then known as the “Beverley Hills” of Cardiff. I gave it up for another job that didn’t come through. I thought, never mind, I might get a job acting. As luck would have it, Peter Elias Jones rang me up and told me about Miri Mawr which had been going for a year by then and asked me if I’d be interested in the part of Caleb. John Ogs had recommended me – John was one of the four trainees at the National Theatre of Wales.”

One of the distinctive aspects of the programme was the costumes, and the look of Caleb. Did you have any say over yours and how was it to wear?

With the costumes we had, we thought of The Wombles before The Wombles did. It was OK when you got used to it. Everyone used to ask: why is Caleb walking around with his head down all the time? The reason was, that in the cave, I had my scripts all over the place – and the crew used to brush them all around. Blodyn at one point asked me a question but answered it as well, as if Caleb didn’t know the lines. We had a lot of fun like that.

What drew you to the part?

In terms of the character – a large, adult mole – I just took the part; I didn’t ask why or what. In the second year they brought in a second character which I played – Belac, Caleb’s twin brother. In the same suit! To tell you the truth, I was just glad I’d got a job. Morgan Rees was there and John Ogs; it was as if it had been written in the stars. We got on great. One actor – he was a guitarist – played a similar character to mine in a BBC series and he was burnt in his costume. So that scared a lot of people.

Margaret Pritchard, later a continuity announcer on HTV Wales, was also involved wasn’t she?

She had a serious role, talking to the kids. She wasn’t part of the script of Miri Mawr. She did a couple of news stories for the kids. The character of Blodyn Tatws, Rob based her on a lady who used to work at HTV, a woman called Dorothy.

The script could be described as surreal, to put it mildly. What did you think when you read it?

I never thought it was weird. I thought it was really funny when we started dressing up and acting it. We didn’t have much rehearsal – it was only about 10 mins in a half hour show but it was very important that we all clicked as actors; and we were all friends. This made a hell of a difference. When I saw the cameramen laughing – and the crew didn’t speak Welsh – I knew there was something going on here. Caleb ate only penguins and custard pies. He loved custard pies.

How did the crew manage the set and react to the performances?

The crew was very union-minded, as they should be – a group of Cardiffians. You weren’t allowed to touch anything but we got on so well, they let us move stuff around more and more. I always remember waiting for lunch and Dewi Pws was right at the top of the studio. The boys said: “Right! One o’clock! Dinner!” And Dewi Pws shouting “Hey boys, I’m up here!” “We don’t care – it’s one o’clock!” Taking the piss, they were. They kept him up there for about 15 minutes. As the show went on, they started laughing with us – at one point, the camera boys had to stop, they were laughing so much. We had a great rapport with them, fantastic. The best rapport of all the stuff I’ve done.

One thing has always intrigued me: why was Miri Mawr set in a cave?

The only thing I know is that it was out in Iceland somewhere. Right out in the snow. Somewhere like that, the Antarctic. Well, that’s what I thought. Iestyn Garlick, who played Llewelyn Fawr after John Ogs, said that “the idea of doing a programme like Miri Mawr is totally ridiculous if you think about it, but it made the programme cultural” That’s very good, actually, because, you know, it was very Welsh. Not only because of the Welsh language but because of the Welsh context; they put a bit of info in for the kids.

What was the reaction to the first episode that went out, can you remember?

Not really. All I know is that for the next few weeks Caleb became a bit of a star and was invited to all these Eisteddfods. I remember flying to Rhyl Eisteddfod. As I came off the helicopter, hundreds and hundreds of people and all kinds of ages were there. It was like Beatlemania. I was surprised. I was invited to open carnivals. I went to Barry to open something and I was there with one of the players from the Lions rugby team. I remember saying to him, “Trev, what a way to earn a bloody living – as a mole”.

Another time, Caleb was introducing a night at St Peters Hall in Carmarthen where Max Boyce topped the bill and sang “Hymns and Arias”. A week later it became a huge hit. There was talk about doing a stage show but it would have been very hard to do. Caleb did do a show in the night with, I think, Philip Madoc. Clive Roberts wrote it. It was on at 10 o’clock at night. Adult Caleb. Went on for a year. I’m terrible at remembering things – that’s why I’m not very good at lines. I did have some strange ladies messing about with my nose.

You mentioned Clive Roberts. He had a troubled history [Miri Mawr co-writer Roberts was convicted in 1990 of murdering his partner, Elinor Wyn Roberts, and spent 12 years in prison]

Clive had a problem. The last time I worked with him, I was rehearsing out in the Valleys somewhere with Sue Roderick. He asked her if she’d like to go for a drink at 8 o’clock in the morning.  I worked with his partner, too. Both had problems. Clive said he couldn’t remember what happened [on the night of the murder]. One psychiatrist said he could, one said he couldn’t.

Why did you leave Miri Mawr?

I was offered something else and they wouldn’t give me time off to do it, so I Ieft. Another actor did it for a few months and then it finished. Over the years a lot of people didn’t know it was me – they thought it was someone else.

But people who knew the programme, remember you from it.

A lot of the rugby boys were very big fans – Derek Quinnell, Ray Gravell. I was playing at Clwb Rygbi Caerdydd against Llanelli Athletic and I was introduced as Caleb – not Dafydd, not Hywel, not DH – Caleb. We became great friends, huge mates. The surprise people had is that so many non-Welsh speakers liked it – even my next door neighbour who’s nearly 70. He doesn’t speak Welsh but he and his mates used to watch it. I think that what we did, as actors, was not talk down to the children. A lot of children’s TV is “How’s it going, bach?” We just talked to them as adults. They knew exactly what was going on. It hit a note. I don’t know why.

Different to the experience on Stanley and The Women (1991)?

They go on about Gavin and Stacey having 15 million viewers, we had 17 million when we did Stanley. When Holby and Doctor Who came to Cardiff, the Welsh crachach [snobs] loved it. It’s the Welsh language buggers who have spoiled it. I went to about five festivals, flown over to HOFF. When Boy Solider was playing in Dublin, it kick-started the Irish Film Festival. Martin McGuinness came up at the end and said it was the best film about The Troubles he’d seen.

What is next for you?

I don’t know. I don’t want to do a lot, just something I enjoy doing. I’ve been very lucky. I’m not the most popular with the Welsh crachach but that doesn’t bother me. I run a professional theatre company based in Llanelli – if I’m on my own, the girls [his daughters] help me out. We started out doing pantomime, but it’s expanded. The next project is on bullying in schools with some humour and music. We get some money from the Arts Council – we have around seven actors, four in the band, a couple of dancers and a crew of about four. Although I’m not a big fan of the theatre, as an actor – too much like hard work.

Thank you so much, Dafydd – you’ve been generous and brilliant.

No problem. The next time you’re down, let’s go for a pint.

Many thanks to Dafydd for generously taking the time to talk to me for this piece. His autobiography, Hunangofiant, is available in Welsh. Caleb lives forever in our hearts and, occasionally, our nightmares.

G Neil Martin is a Professor of Psychology and writer. You can get in touch with him via Twitter @thatneilmartin

This article originally appeared in issue four of the Curious British Telly fanzine.