So much of my performance has always been about body language but when it takes all your strength just to keep upright, you’re bound to skimp on the details. I know I could have done an awful lot more in that episode. As it was, I struggled to do the basics. Worst of all was the shame of knowing I was less mobile than K-9!
During the final goodbye scene with David, walking up those park steps to the TARDIS, I was dying with every step. But I made it and I got my lines out. Job done!
Then I got the call from James, ‘Can you go up a bit more quickly?’
The tears were seconds away. I’ll be lucky to get up them at all.
In hindsight, if I’d been honest, maybe we could have done it differently but the script was written and I didn’t want to be the one to change it. This was the team’s third episode together. Billie and David were just getting established – they needed to be thinking about each other, not me.
As a result, I must have come across as a mad woman – I couldn’t focus on anything apart from my leg. I remember sitting next to David between takes. He was so charming, just nattering about this and that before going on to ask about how it felt for me being there. He said, ‘It must be really strange for you coming back after all the other Doctors?’ And all the while I was screaming inside at the pain. Everything he threw at me I answered with a strained ‘Hmm’, ‘Yes’ or just a bit of nodding. He said he’d been a fan since he was a kid – I bet he wasn’t by the end of that!
It was the same with Billie. On her first day on set we were gearing up to do some more running, or limping in my case, and she said, ‘Oh, what did your character used to wear?’ My head was all over the place so I managed to spit out something like, ‘Oh yes, a funny skirt’, but it came out a bit off, really. I’m sure Billie must have thought I was a little dim.
The leg really alienated me, I’m afraid. When I wasn’t on call, I was on my own packing it with ice or resting. As a result I never really felt part of the team. Even when I was free, events conspired against me. David had a roof terrace on the top of his trailer and I remember enviously listening to him and Anthony Head enjoying themselves up there – while I was stuck downstairs, doing interview after interview. Apparently the outside world was quite excited about the return of Sarah Jane.
It was such an honour to have been chosen to return and despite everything I really did have an amazing time but the leg colours everything, even today. I know we produced a fantastic episode but it’s ingrained in my head that the whole thing was a disaster. In fact, I still can’t see David or anyone else from that shoot without fighting embarrassment.
At least my last day was memorable for more pleasant reasons. As we began, the First announced, ‘Lis’s last day’, and then at the end there was a round of applause. Honestly, they couldn’t have done any more to make me feel important. Even so, as I boarded the train back to London, I thought, That’s the last I’ll be hearing from them.
Chapter Seventeen
In Case The Buggers Change The Locks
THE THING about Russell T Davies is he never stops planning. My farewell in School Reunion was originally written as being quite a tear-jerker. Then Russell said, ‘You know what, sad endings are too easy to do. Let’s have her walking away into the sunset with the dog, a spring in her step and the future at her feet.’ So that’s what we did. (If I’d whistled ‘Bow Wow’ it would have been The Hand of Fear all over again.) Even as we filmed it you got a sense that Sarah was going on to bigger and better things. It never occurred to me that we would ever discover what.
It was shortly after New Year’s Day, 2006, when I found myself back in a restaurant with Russell. This time we were joined by Julie Gardner and my agent, Roger Carey. I remember musing with Roger in the cab about what they wanted. There were whispers of an adult spin-off called Torchwood. Our best guess was Sarah might get a cameo in that.
‘It’ll be exciting for her to grow up at last,’ I said.
We had a bit of a chit-chat and a glass of wine, the usual skirting around the subject – although it’s never a chore sitting and skirting with Russell. The time just flies in his company.
Finally he revealed why we were there. I just stared at him, absolutely non-plussed.
‘Do you think it will work?’ I said.
I’m surprised Roger didn’t kick me under the table. Agents can be funny about you talking yourself out of work.
But Russell didn’t flinch. ‘Of course it will,’ he enthused, passionate as ever.
‘Well, what would you call it?’
Deep breath … ‘The Sarah Jane Adventures!’ he announced proudly.
‘Why me?’
I can’t help myself.
‘Everyone in Cardiff loved you in School Reunion,’ Russell explained. ‘The world needs more of Sarah Jane.’
My episode hadn’t even aired yet but the end result, he said, was so phenomenal he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to bring me back for good.
Slowly it began to sink in. Over the next hour I got the whole pitch. Nothing had been written but Russell had all the details worked out. Sarah Jane would continue the Doctor’s work of protecting Earth from alien attacks. She’d have a sonic lipstick to match his screwdriver. And, yes, K-9 would be involved. The difference this time was he wouldn’t be the headline act, due to contractual issues with his creator, Bob Baker. Oh, what a shame …
Then Russell dropped the bombshell about the children.
‘Oh my God, they’ll be the spawn of the Devil at that age!’ I exclaimed. But of course they weren’t. They are truly delightful, so young but so professional. And they’re very tactile, as am I – we have lots of hugs in the morning and it’s one big happy family, even with Yasmin Paige (Maria) going, Anjli Mohindra (Rani) coming in and now Tommy Knight (who plays Luke) off at university. Danny Anthony (Clyde) even calls me ‘Mama Lis’. If anything, it’s their show – I’m sure they’re just putting up with me sometimes.
The show was, in fact, everything Russell promised. He’d begun working in children’s television and it was a real passion of his to produce serious, quality drama for that age group.
To say the offer was unexpected is beyond understatement. I don’t think I was even coherent when I told Brian that night! It was incredible, of course, but there were serious issues. This would involve a major commitment. We’d do a pilot, then hopefully a series. That could easily eat up five or six months of the year, and I’d be working flat out, full time – away from home in Cardiff. I’d as good as retired, hadn’t I? Did I really want to get back on the treadmill?
I shared a train journey with Jane Tranter, head of BBC1, shortly after The Sarah Jane Adventures began. We were chatting about how much her children liked it. Then she said, ‘We just threw you in, didn’t we?’
‘Well, yes,’ I said. ‘I was just impressed by the quality of everything so I couldn’t say no.’
‘Oh,’ Jane sounded surprised. ‘If you hadn’t liked it, wouldn’t you have done it?’
‘No, I wouldn’t.’
‘Really?’ she said. I don’t think she meets many people in this business prepared to turn down their own show.
But I was barely in the business by then. It wasn’t a case of ‘Where is my career going?’ I’d had my career – anything work-wise was a bonus now. And there was no point in agreeing to something I wouldn’t enjoy – those days were over.
Which was the frame of mind I was in when I mulled over Russell’s offer. Then I remembered how much fun I’d had in Cardiff. My leg was still not 100 per cent but despite all the pain and all the problems I’d created, I also remembered how supportive everyone had been.
And then there was the BBC itself. In my day, if you want to call it that, Doctor Who had been very successful but you always got the impression the BBC were a bit … well … embarrassed by the programme. It was popular but the decision-makers didn’t know why. ‘It’s only a children’s show,’ they seemed to say. ‘We don’t need to worry about it.’
Modern Who couldn’t have been more different. A few days before I met Russell and Julie, David Tennant’s first episode had gone out at peak time on Christmas Day. Imagine if they’d done that for Tom and me! We had to fight to get a picture in the Radio Times. Now the Corporation couldn’t be more supportive and four years later they went so far as clearing the schedules for David’s swansong.
Apart from the actual workload I couldn’t see a downside. I wondered if Brian and Sadie could help. Aside from worrying about the travelling and the time we’d be away from each other, they both agreed it seemed too good to turn down.
‘It’s your own show, Mum. And look at the people behind it!’
Sadie was right. The family pow-wow was over.
‘I’m going to do it.’
* * *
Of course, I had doubts. Even as I travelled to Cardiff for our first read-through I was plagued by genuine worries, ‘Can she exist without the Doctor? Can you make her work?’
And the read-through was a disaster. Considering I’d played this character on and off for thirty years you’d think I’d be able to rattle off a few lines, but my tongue seemed to be twice its normal size with nerves and I couldn’t get any feel for what I was saying. Afterwards, I promised Colin Teague, the director, ‘I’ll be better on the day.’
‘Thank God for that!’ he said.
When it came to recording the pilot, Invasion of the Bane, in October 2006, Colin did a lovely thing. I don’t know if it was for the kids’ benefit or mine, but we recorded everything in chronological order. That’s so rare today, but it helped immensely – we really got a sense of story.
I was a bit surprised at how rusty I was. Technically, there were things I needed to get my head around as well. The biggest shock was the scripts. On old Who we’d learned and workshopped the script during rehearsal then shot in a studio for a couple of days. Things had changed. The Sarah Jane Adventures, like Doctor Who, was now rehearse-record. That is to say, we arrive on set, do a run-through, then film it for real a few minutes later. From the moment we turn up we’re expected to have every word memorised. It’s a nightmare!
When you’re dealing with the amount of science-gook Sarah has to spout, there’s no room for adlibbing. More importantly, Jon and I (and then Tom and I) had developed so much of our characters’ relationships in those rehearsal rooms at the Acton Hilton, not on set. There’s also a purely pragmatic point. Without wishing to sound too luvvy, if you’ve learned it one way and your co-star has learned it another, by the time you come to perform it together you might be way out of pace.
On top of every night spent pacing up and down my hotel room trying to cram for the following day’s memory test, I wasn’t prepared for the added pressure of being number one on the call sheet. I was the first to be picked up, the last dropped off: the whole episode revolved around my character, there was no hiding place.
But, God, how I loved it! I’d only been in Cardiff a few days when I realised just how much I had to thank Russell for. He’d let me come back to do something I adored. I didn’t realise until I started how much I’d missed it, how much I’d really, really missed it.
At this point in my life it’s all that matters.
* * *
I was really pleased with how Invasion of the Bane turned out. Russell T Davies and Gareth Roberts had written a feisty, fun adventure story where, thank goodness, the kids got to do the majority of the running. The special effects were light years ahead of anything we ever had in the 1970s – and I did enjoy being given a ‘sonic lipstick’! After decades of watching the Doctor get himself out of any writer’s cul-de-sac with his handy sonic screwdriver, now Sarah could do the same. (Although I still haven’t got the hang of the rules yet. Every so often Sarah Jane is in a fix and I say, ‘Well, why doesn’t she use the lipstick?’
‘It won’t work on this, Lis!’
‘Why not?’
And I get back, ‘We’re not going to open that can of beans!’)
Working with Samantha Bond, as Mrs Wormwood, was great. If this was a sign of the calibre of things to come, I couldn’t wait until recording on the proper series commenced the following year.
Of course, it was all very well recording a good show: the proof would be in how the BBC treated it and how the viewers themselves reacted. Whereas Doctor Who bestrode the divide between kids’ and adult drama, our show was pitched squarely at the children’s strand. I had a nasty feeling that it might get overlooked again, just like the old Who. And just like K-9 and Company.
But then I saw the TV schedules.
If you’d told me a couple of years ago that I would be starring in a show to be broadcast on BBC1 at 4.50 p.m. on New Year’s Day, I would have called for your tablets. But that’s what happened. After more than thirty years, I finally felt appreciated by the BBC.
* * *
Since my first day onscreen in The Time Warrior, letters and notes from fans have never been in short supply. Suddenly, though, I was sure I’d be struck off the postman’s Christmas card list as he began turning up with satchel after satchel of correspondence from new young Sarah Jane admirers. A lot of people have told me they’ve since gone back and bought the Tom and Sarah DVDs and occasionally I even receive invites to appear on the other side of the world at millionaire’s children’s birthday parties. That’s not something I like to do, but it’s nice to be asked.
The first series proper of The Sarah Jane Adventures went out the following autumn and I have to say we were shocked by the response. Consistently number one in its time slot and well reviewed everywhere. Lovely! Best news of all, the commission for a second series was just around the corner. Not bad for a pensioner, as my daughter kept reminding me.
I couldn’t have done it if it had seemed too much like work, though. Having Russell, Phil and Julie as our executive producers was such an incredible safety net. Their notes on each episode were never short of amazing. Alice Troughton was the perfect director and Matthew Bouche was great as our producer.
That was just the behind-the-scenes talent. We had some mouthwatering guest stars, too – Phyllida Law, Chook Sibtain and Jane Asher, to name only a few – but it was with the regular cast that I really formed relationships. The kids were wonderful and juggled their acting and their educations extremely maturely. Joseph Millson, as Alan Jackson, was always a pleasure to have around, while Juliet Cowan (Chrissie Jackson) was especially lively, and Jimmy Vee and Paul Kasey are the Terry Walshes of their day, popping up in all manner of different costumes.
Even so, as an actor you’re never far away from your worst nightmares. Those little voices sniping away at your confidence seem to get louder whenever you’re not working. The Sarah Jane Adventures was doing well but there were still occasional whispers that ‘it’s only children’s TV’. It never feels nice to be overlooked. But when I got an invite to the premiere of that year’s Doctor Who Christmas Special I knew things at the Beeb had changed. The country’s press would be there. This was their way of making our programme feel part of the main one. Little sister we might be, but important nonetheless.
It was a great event, actually, watching The Voyage of the Damned – the big Kylie and David double-header – on a huge screen at the Science Museum with all the great and the good – and the press – in attendance. No expense was spared, especially on the aftershow party. Angels hung from the ceiling, all the glitterati were milling about desperate for a word with David. Some of them even wanted to talk to me.
I was chatting to someone when I saw this little fella kind of duck behind a pole, occasionally looking out. I thought, Oh, a bit of a stalker there. It happens occasionally.
Every time I glanced over, he ducked furtively back behind the column.
A little later someone came up and said, ‘There’s a big fan of yours over there.’
‘Oh really?’
‘Yes, he’d love to meet you, if that’s all right.’
I went over and it was Nick Park �
�� my stalker!
It’s amazing to think that someone who has won so many Oscars with Wallace & Gromit could be so shy but he was great fun. The whole evening, in fact, was a pleasure from beginning to end.
Our second series, recorded in spring 2008, built on everything we’d achieved in the first. I really loved the opening story. I don’t know whose idea it was but Sam Bond was back – with a Sontaran. I’d been in the very first Sontaran story all those years ago, so it felt like coming full circle, working with Kaagh. I did take a quiet moment to think about dear Kevin Lindsay, though (remember, without him, we’d be saying ‘Sontaran’ in a completely different way).
The biggest change this time round was Anj Mohindra coming in to replace Yasmin’s character. I think Yasmin, who’d played Maria, was worried even then about being typecast – showing more professional nous than I ever had – but it was sad to see her go. Moreover, I had such a good rapport with her ‘dad’, which left a real void. Having said that, Ace Bhatti, who came in as Rani’s father, is a hoot to have around. You’d never guess from the stern character he plays, but that man only stops joking when the cameras roll. The children proved surprisingly resilient to change – they always do, I suppose. Anj was one of the team by the end of her first day. And of course Yasmin made the occasional return appearance.
We also attracted a few bigger names to guest star. Bradley Walsh was in Day of the Clown, Russ Abbot appeared in Secrets of the Stars, and Gary Beadle, as Clyde’s dad, in The Mark of the Berserker. For me, though, none of them compared – no offence, intended – to the special guest who joined us on the season finale, Enemy of the Bane: the one and only Nicholas Courtney!
It was super to see Nick again. He wasn’t in the best of health so we were all delighted when he announced that he could make it. Just as my relationship with Jon had blossomed after Who, I probably got on better with Nick during that shoot than at any time before. He was so happy for me to have my own show and absolutely chuffed to be involved. It wasn’t my decision at all, but try telling him that! (We wanted him to give me away on The Wedding of Sarah Jane Smith but sadly he was too ill. I spoke to him about it, though. He was so disappointed not to chalk up an appearance alongside another Doctor!)
Elisabeth Sladen: The Autobiography Page 34