Miranda Hart
Page 10
Andrew Collins commented, ‘Megan Dodds brought a lot to the first series. We hadn’t even written Kate as an American, Megan just proved the best at auditions, and we went back and developed her character accordingly.’
Lee Mack said that some people found it hard to get used to having an American in British sitcoms. ‘The amount of people that have said to me, “I didn’t like the American girl at first, but, by the end, I really loved her – she got better and better.”’ But, as he pointed out, the episodes are filmed out of sequence, so it wasn’t her that changed, just that people took time to get used to it.
At the end of the first series, Kate moves back to America and Tim needs to find a new owner for the flat. Lee battles for its ownership against Lucy, who is Tim’s younger sister. Because of his lack of steady income, Lee loses but Tim makes it part of the deal that Lucy has to rent the spare room to him. Inevitably, he starts having feelings for her too, but Lucy is more interested in her new boss Guy, a suave older man. Lucy is played by Sally Bretton who comedy fans will recognise from her appearance in The Office as Donna, the daughter of Brent’s friends, who comes for work experience at Wernham Hogg. Following this, Bretton landed roles in a number of sitcoms including Green Wing, Absolute Power and Ben Elton’s series Blessed.
Bretton’s character Lucy is an ambitious, career-focused young lady who spent a number of years as a successful businesswoman in Zurich before returning to England. There is sibling rivalry between her and Tim; she was always the favourite, while Tim is seen as something of a disappointment.
Kate’s departure for America also gives Tim a new lease of life as he can finally move on. But he hasn’t done quite as well with his new girlfriend, Daisy. She’s a typical nice-but-dim girl, who is gullible and suffers from an intellect deficiency. It’s a bit of a mystery why they are together, as Tim is clearly embarrassed by her. Daisy is played by Katy Wix, who later appears in Miranda as Fanny, one of her former boarding-school friends.
People looked forward to the second series after such a strong start, and the pressure was on for the writers. Andrew Collins said at the time, ‘It’ll be tough to get past the affection people always feel for a first series. But by bringing in new characters, while keeping to the basic set-up, we’ve mixed things up a bit, and it’s given us a new dynamic to play with.’
In the second series, Lee has a new job as an ice-cream man, so the story focused less on him trying to get a job, and the writers concentrated on developing the characters’ relationships. Lucy and Tim’s sibling rivalry is pushed to the limit when Tim becomes suspicious of Lee’s motives.
Ahead of series two’s broadcast in the autumn of 2007, Collins said, ‘We’re all pretty pleased with the way the scripts have turned out. When the cast did live readthroughs in front of an invited audience at a small theatre in August, the results were excellent. This gave us a real shot in the arm.’
So, on 7 September 2007, the second series began. In the second episode, Lucy meets Guy. He’s an entrepreneur, Lucy’s new boss, and she takes a shine to him. But when a colleague tells her he’s gay, she doesn’t give up and attempts to turn him. She makes a joke that she’s worried he might have interpreted as homophobic, so she tries to make it up to him. She invites him round for dinner to meet her gay flatmate. Of course, her flatmate isn’t gay, so she convinces Lee to pretend to be. There follows a succession of hilarious misunderstandings – Guy reassures Tim he definitely comes across as gay, while Tim is oblivious and is upset Lee won’t come out to him – but ultimately Lucy discovers Guy is actually straight and they end up kissing. Naturally, Lee does not approve and takes every opportunity, and also creates some, to take shots at Guy about his age.
As the series progresses, Lucy starts to worry about the age gap – especially when Guy brings his grandson to meet her. At the end of the series, the couple break up, which is a helpful twist as it leaves Lucy available, and raises the question of Lee finally making a move in series three.
Series two attracted audiences of 3–4 million and a third series was given the go-ahead. Mack felt positive about it. ‘Well, hand on heart, it is definitely the best of the three series, if I do say so myself. I’m convinced of it.’ This was reassuring after the risk of new characters, he believed: ‘The last series we had to bring in a new lead girl, as well as introduce some new characters, so it was sort of like starting again. And people don’t like change, especially people who like your show.’
The third series, transmitted from January to March 2009, went well and ratings continued to gradually rise, but, because they didn’t quite match the same as other BBC One sitcoms, the channel announced that the show was being cancelled. The team did their best to convince the Corporation to change its mind. Lee Mack was in the back of a car after a recording of Would I Lie To You? when he was informed by his manager of the axing. ‘He said, “I’ll get to the point – the show’s been cancelled.” The third series hadn’t even finished being on telly! I was very shocked by it.’
So Mission: Recommission began. Andrew Collins wrote on his blog: ‘It all comes down to numbers in the end, even though the BBC is a publicly funded broadcaster and thus not reliant on advertising revenue and thus not really in the ratings game to the degree where, like American broadcasters, it cancels shows that aren’t performing to a set of made-up targets.’
And then there was something akin to a call to arms. Collins joined in with a discussion on the British Comedy Guide’s forum, answered some of the fans’ questions and then concluded his post with the following disclaimer: ‘I’m not going to say anything negative about the BBC, as I rely upon them for a lot of other work. That’s the God’s honest truth. Those of you who don’t, however, can say what you like.’
And speak they did. More than 1,500 people signed a petition to save the show. The petition said, ‘At its peak Not Going Out was reaching over three million people, and with a rising following these figures were sure to increase… Lee Mack is a comic writing genius and this show should be going down in history as a cult classic, and shouldn’t be axed when viewing is on a high.’
Within the BBC, opinions were divided. A BBC spokeswoman said, ‘We recognise that Not Going Out has a loyal fan base, and appreciate that the decision not to recommission the series for BBC1 will come as a disappointment. However, it is felt that the show has run its course on the channel and of late has not been performing as well as hoped.’
But one BBC producer, who wished to remain anonymous, told The Stage, ‘I am just devastated by that decision. The last series was so assured. I don’t understand the rationale. It’s just a really good show.’
In the end, the BBC gave in to pressure and decided to revive Not Going Out for a fourth series, which aired from January 2011. However, they chose to move it from Fridays to Thursdays – and this coincided with Miranda Hart’s decision to leave the show. Not because of the new slot, but because her own sitcom had become a hit and she was busy writing and appearing in its second series. When series four aired, she couldn’t help but admit to feeling left out, as she tweeted: ‘Looking forward to Not Going Out at half nine. Although v sad not to be in it.’
Although Barbara the cleaner’s absence from Not Going Out’s fourth series wasn’t referred to, most viewers’ might presume that she had probably been fired. After all, she did everything she could to avoid work and, even when she did clean, she was so clumsy that she nearly always broke something. They carried on Miranda-free and the show achieved its highest figures yet (4.75 million for the first episode), and, despite rumours that Tim Vine was quitting the series, it was happily announced not only that he was staying on board, but also that a fifth and sixth series had been commissioned by the BBC. Mack commented, ‘It’s great news. I can finally get that extension finished.’
Good news also for fans and critics alike. The rest of the cast, also, would have been delighted. Lee had paid tribute to the good relations between them: ‘Of the five main cast members – Tim, S
ally Bretton, Miranda Hart, Katy Wix and me – there’s genuinely not one relationship that’s wrong in that five. It’s brilliant. I couldn’t be working with nicer people to be honest with you… and that makes a lot of difference, because I wouldn’t be able to do it otherwise.’
It’s a rare British sitcom nowadays that lasts more than a few series, and so Not Going Out is set to be one of BBC One’s long-runners, having survived against the odds. But Miranda Hart – central cast member for its second and third series – now has her own project to concentrate on. More than 15 years after her first performance at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, Miranda was to finally realise her dream – to star in her own BBC sitcom. Now all she had to do was write it.
10
THE WRITER’S JOURNEY
‘Classical music helps when writing I am finding. Makes me feel mature. *farts*.’
– Miranda, on Twitter
Douglas Adams once said, ‘Writing is easy. All you have to do is stare at a blank sheet of paper until your forehead bleeds.’
Miranda has made it clear that she doesn’t enjoy the process of writing and she isn’t alone. It’s that classic image of the tortured artist at the typewriter surrounded by piles of crumpled-up paper. She started writing when suffering from agoraphobia because, petrified by crowds outside, she found ‘it was more fun inside my head than in the real world’. Now that is no longer true and she prefers life to writing, but the process is simply a means to an end.
When no one was writing parts for her to perform, Miranda took the liberty of writing parts for herself and taking shows to Edinburgh. ‘My heart wasn’t in writing. My heart was really just in performing.’ With a commission, though, came the commitment to write a sitcom which became Miranda. She looks back on her temping days and says, ‘I’d much rather be doing that than writing a sitcom, but ultimately the writing is what gets the results. However naff it sounds, it’s worth it to hear those laughs.’
With the first series of Miranda in late 2009, it seemed Miranda the writer had a head start. With a radio show in the bag, much of the material could be adapted for the screen. Those former issues with slapstick in an audio medium were no longer a problem, and so visual gags could thrive. An audience had already loved her show and had provided feedback in the most encouraging way – laughter. On her blog, Miranda said that she became ‘stuck on material from the radio that had worked in front of the live audience, and tried to force it in to a story’. This was a process she found harder than starting from scratch. She also discovered that the characters had matured and the one episode she did transfer directly from radio (episode five) seemed a little dated. So, using a lot less from the BBC Radio 2 show than she thought she could, she had six scripts to write.
After the success of the first series, expectations were high for the second. There were a few nuggets of unused material left over from the first series, but this was more of a challenge. As the first episode of the second series was about to air in November 2010, Miranda wrote on her blog, ‘It’s been really hard over the last eight months writing the second series – mainly I have been in a blind panic!’
And so it begins again. What are people expecting from Miranda for the third series? Is it like following up a hugely successful debut album?
Miranda has said that ‘writing comedy is the equivalent of doing homework that’s going to end up on national television’. And many writers feel the same, putting it off and leaving the work to the last minute. Speaking to Charlie Brooker on a special writers’ edition of Screenwipe, Russell T. Davies says he’s got stuck in a system that has to be punishing in some way. The former Doctor Who producer said of scriptwriting at the time that ‘It’s like homework for me. I’m due in a script now I should have started weeks ago and I keep putting off. If I leave here and start that script, I know my Christmas will be lovely and everything will be marvellous – but I won’t.’
Davies’s own creative struggle has been chronicled in The Writer’s Tale, a book in which he wrote about one year as a Doctor Who writer. He has described it as like therapy in that he could see what he was doing wrong, but it hasn’t helped. He sums up many writers’ attitudes when he says, ‘I love it, but I love it when it’s made. Then I’m really proud, even though I’m critical of it. But I hate writing at the same time, I absolutely hate it.’
So, Miranda, join the club. But there is an added pressure. Miranda is not only the main writer and creator of her sitcom; she plays the lead character who is present in every scene. There’s no passing any blame here. In the first two series, she takes charge of the show, giving feedback and notes to cast members in the guise of a character she calls ‘Anal McPartlin’. She is so passionate about this opportunity that she is incredibly hard-working in making sure everything goes to plan. She admits, ‘I do have an element of the controller but I think most writing performers do. It’s really hard to let go, to be in the rehearsal room and seeing flats going up around you and going, “This isn’t my joke shop. This is not what I meant at all.”’
With six to eight months of hard graft at the writing table behind her, the show’s creator should be allowed the occasional diva moment.
One of the most common and obvious questions writers are faced with is ‘where do you get your ideas from?’ The usual answer, ‘my imagination’, doesn’t seem to satisfy, as everyone relishes tales such as Basil Fawlty being based on a real hotel owner the Pythons encountered in Torquay. Everyone, that is, except Donald Sinclair, the poor chap himself. It has inspired Miranda to be playful with this in many interviews, telling one man on the red carpet of the First Light Movie Awards that she was looking for inspiration right now, and ‘You never know, you might feature.’ Talking to Gavin and Stacey’s Ruth Jones (Nessa), Miranda has said that some of the ‘crazy, embarrassing, mortifying situations that happen to [her] are almost too ridiculous for a sitcom’. While Miranda always carries a notebook and says she gets on to buses and the tube just to eavesdrop, most of the stories are, as she puts it, ‘all from my weird head’. For example, one day she was idling down a BBC corridor, sulking that she hadn’t had any funny ideas that day, and then – out of nowhere – had an image of Stevie coming into the shop with a massive Great Dane and apologising for being late. It amused Miranda so much that she found a way to get it in and – tada! – in series one episode six, there it was.
Miranda occasionally goes to the BBC to write, but spends the majority of her writing time in her Hammersmith flat. She doesn’t take on any other work so stays at home sat in a ‘weird Mastermind-style chair’. To get away, she takes her dog Peggy for a walk twice a day or goes to the cinema. For other distractions, she says, ‘I watch bleak, dark films to get away from anything vaguely funny.’
It takes a lot of hard work to make a show that looks effortlessly funny. Peep Show writer Sam Bain has said, ‘It’s probably that the more fun the writing process is, the less good the show will be and the more hard work the writing process is, the more funny the show will be.’ This certainly seems to ring true with Miranda. Writing her hugely successful show, which caused such a reaction from the studio audience that it was accused of having a laughter track, was quite an ordeal.
Miranda admits that she has cried quite a lot during the writing process, turning to Peggy (‘a fluffy cross between a shih-tzu and a bichon frise’) for moral support. She has described herself during the process as ‘lonely, frustrated, bored and stressed’. If you’d like a better picture, she usually wears stained tracksuit bottoms and trainers, and finds solace in cups of tea and plates of biscuits. She says of writing, ‘It’s not something I leap out of bed in the morning for. It requires patience (which I lack), discipline (which I lack), nerves of steel (which I lack), unending energy (which I lack) and hard-core tea drinking and biscuit eating (this is where I excel).’ But she is disciplined, working a nine-to-six day. Miranda is not the type of person who gets an idea and will write into the early hours because, as she admits, ‘frankly, I’m in
bed at 10.30pm’.
The second series of Miranda was easier to write because she had learned, through experience. ‘I did go slightly mental writing the first series,’ she admitted. ‘I know how not to write a sitcom now, which is to take five months out of your life and not speak to anyone, ignore your friends and your family, and think you need every single day and every single moment to write. It actually doesn’t work.’
Everyone has their ways of cheering themselves up. As well as Peggy, Miranda used to get out a toy rubber duck when she was going through a bad patch. Miranda says that, ideally, it takes eight months to write six episodes of a sitcom. ‘Two months to pace about for ideas and then structuring the storylines and then a month on each episode to really hone it.’ All this graft, just so we can have a jolly good chuckle.
So what do we want from a sitcom? James Cary, one of the writers who helps Miranda structure the episodes, sums up the recipe for sitcom success as ‘character + conflict + confinement + catastrophe + catchphrase + casting = comedy (except when it doesn’t)’. That last bracketed disclaimer alludes to the fact that, however formulaic, sitcoms could fly or flounder. These essential elements make up a sitcom – it’s not just gags about chocolate penises.
Getting the main character right in sitcom is crucial, especially when the show is named after them. Cary says they should have a basic flaw. One of the most common is a figure who thinks they should be doing better in life and don’t know why they aren’t (see also Mainwaring, Fawlty, Rimmer, Brent, Hancock). Similarly, Miranda tries desperately to fit in and cope with the high social expectations of the modern world. And most importantly, as we’ve seen previously, Miranda is so likeable that, when things go wrong for her (as they so often do), it makes us squirm. It’s amused discomfort which occurs whether it’s a simple dress-caught-in-taxi moment, or a heart-wrenching scene where she pours her heart out to Gary… only for us to realise moments later that the perfect monologue was in her head, and now we’re going to see her make an epic fool of herself.