Even so, it was clear a major new talent had arrived. Matt was clearly now set for great things, and the intensity of his performance meant that he displayed a range that was clearly going to serve him very well in the future. His Doctor had a comic edge, a lightness of touch, but That Face was as dark and destructive as it could be. Matt was obviously not just a one-trick pony: he was capable of far more, which, ultimately, would ensure a career once he stepped down as the Eleventh Doctor. Not that anyone wanted that to happen once he’d made the role his own.
With all this intensity going on in his professional life, Matt needed to find ways to relax, and had developed a wide array of interests outside the stage. He was a very musical person, a keen piano player, but also able with the flute and guitar as well. It gave him an outlet for all that boundless energy: ‘What’s nice about the music stuff is it’s just a release, it’s just something I enjoy,’ he said. ‘It’s a way to do something else creative with my brain. You know, learn some lines, play the piano, learn some lines, play the piano. It works for me!’
He was a great fan of Radiohead, and felt that the rush he got from listening to them was something he wanted to recreate on stage. ‘That’s it,’ he said. ‘That’s what I want when I go to the theatre, when I’m in a play, is them, and that experience that I get from them. I admire the musicianship; I admire the soul that goes into it, and the execution and the work, the preparation. Everything is done right, I think, and done with good intention and soul and heart and good spirit. They are a lesson to us all.’
In another interview, given after he’d landed the role of the Doctor, Matt went further still. ‘They’ve been a real influence on my imaginative mind,’ he said. ‘I can muddle through “High and Dry” on the guitar, although I’m actually better on the piano. I asked for a piano in the Tardis but it hasn’t happened. I’d love to see the Doctor rock up and play, but it’d have to be done in an inventive and silly way.’
Matt had a huge array of other interests, too. He loved poetry, especially (the now laureate) Carol Ann Duffy and he retained a passionate interest in football, albeit as a spectator rather than as a participant. ‘Zinédine Zidane – the best player I’ve seen,’ he enthused. ‘He’s grace, that man. Even, God love him, the head butt. It was a mistake, but by God he committed to it. Tony Adams was a player I really admired. Because he was clumsy like me? Yeah, perhaps. My best mate’s dad would watch me play football and say, “I’ve got no idea how you can play football when you’re that clumsy.” It’s always been a bit of a conundrum that I’ve got two feet that work. Stuart Pearce – my favourite footballer and a big influence. I remember that penalty, when he ran up to the fans after he scored. The last penalty he had taken, at the World Cup in 1990, he’d missed. I love my football, I really do.’
That was an understatement, if ever there was one. But importantly, he had come to accept that although it would remain a huge part of his life, it was not the be-all and end-all any more. It was clear now that his destiny was as an actor, taking on enormously challenging roles and making them his own. He could manage both the very serious and the deftly comic; he was prepared to take risks and expose his innermost emotions on stage. Most importantly, there was a complexity to his character, both on and off stage, which gave depth to his acting and allowed him to see the very different aspect of the individuals he played. And so now it was time for a very different role.
CHAPTER 9
PARTY ANIMALS
With the spectacular success of That Face behind him, Matt was now clearly ready to take part in a major television show. However, it wasn’t to be quite the big breakthrough that everyone was expecting, and it certainly wasn’t Doctor Who; rather, it was a BBC2 offering in 2007 called Party Animals. Purporting to be about the people of government, namely researchers, MPs and lobbyists, and concentrating on the lowlier individuals in the mêlée, it was a drama the critics liked but the viewers didn’t. It never got more than one million viewers and a second series was not commissioned. But it did give Matt his first experience of making a television series, rather than a one-off appearance as he had done previously. And the role was nothing like as taxing as that from which he had just stepped down, which meant that body and soul, at least, were not to be tortured in quite the way they had been on stage.
It was never exactly clear why Party Animals never really took off. It followed in a fine tradition of shows about politics, of which the greatest is still Yes Minister, and the best more recently, The Thick of It. The subject matter – shenanigans in the corridors of power of both a personal and professional nature – provided plenty of scope for juicy plotlines, while its young cast was attractive and vigorous. Many felt that the real reason it didn’t become a modern classic was that the BBC itself seemed pretty half-hearted about it. Yes, it had its own website, on which cast members, including Matt, were interviewed, but it was never really hyped up and as such, never really took off.
The set-up was as follows. Scott (Andrew Buchan) and Danny (Matt) Foster are the sons of an ex-Labour MP, and Danny is working as a researcher for the Home Office Junior Minister, Jo Porter (Raquel Cassidy). However, one crisis after another keeps hitting the Government, Jo’s domestic life is in upheaval and Danny is forced to cope with all this, problems that are exacerbated by the arrival of a Machiavellian intern, Kirsty MacKenzie (Andrea Riseborough). Danny, 26, an intelligent but timid ‘politics geek’ who has not got as far as he should have by that stage, falls for Kirsty while at the same time trying to help a minister in decline.
Meanwhile, having made lots of contacts in government, his brother Scott has gone off to pursue a career in lobbying, a career that isn’t going too well as the government is now in decline (the series was nothing if not topical). However, he has lunch with Ashika Chandiramani, who is the chief adviser to Shadow Minister James Northcote, who presents him with an opportunity; she herself is considering standing as an MP.
It certainly seemed to have potential when the series kicked off. According to the BBC website, ‘Danny’s a clever boy, an unashamed politics geek. And he’s not without charm – he just lacks the confidence sometimes to really go for what he wants. Scott’s always telling him to leave his current job as a researcher and get himself a better job with higher pay and more recognition. He’s very capable. If only he’d believe in himself.
‘Danny’s been Jo’s researcher since he left university and at 26 ought to have moved on by now. But he can’t bring himself to leave her: he’s also hoping that if he sticks with her long enough, when the promotions come she’ll take him with her. Jo’s difficult. At first Danny accepts this relationship without questioning – convincing himself it’s part of his job description. But when the party whips start to notice Jo’s decline, Danny realises he’s going to have to take decisive action. But what will he do?’
At least Matt was used to playing a role involving a young man in thrall to an older woman, and he had clearly put as much thought into this role as he had the last. ‘Danny has a romantic, moral take on the political world and at the same time can be deeply cynical about life outside politics, his family etc,’ he said. ‘He has a dry sense of humour and a quick wit. Intellectually he’s sharp and attentive; I suppose his brain is one of his most attractive features. Emotionally he’s what you might deem uncultured; with women in particular Danny has an inability to express how he feels and be himself, at first. Underneath of course is a wry, sarcastic, witty, romantic waiting to knock a girl sideways and be the boyfriend of a lifetime! His timid nature romantically is of stark contrast to his persona at work where he can be dynamic, articulate and very productive.’
In other words, Danny was a world away from the sharp, lively, engaging Matt. Danny, one of life’s underlings, was always hanging about in the background, trying and failing to do the right thing and not looking out for himself. Matt, meanwhile, was hugely popular with his fellow cast members, already proving himself highly accomplished in a number of wildly differin
g roles, and clearly set for great things. In fact, it’s amazing in retrospect that anyone at all was surprised when he was named as the new Doctor Who.
But Danny was what Matt was concentrating on back then, and he had given some thought about what made Danny interested in politics. ‘His opinions in general and of course his father,’ he said. ‘The death of his father, a person Danny was very close to, had an influence over his decision to enter politics. In doing so, however, Danny has developed his own political desire and drive. Academically he’s always been a bit of book worm and what else would he do?’
Then there was the fact that Danny had not progressed in his career as much as he should have done. Why not? ‘Loyalty to Jo and resolute belief in her ability. He could move because he’s had offers,’ said Matt. ‘The great thing about Danny is despite his own emotional flaws regarding women, he’s good at caring for people, being a shoulder or at some moments he’s even a rock for others to lean on.’
He looked at other facets of Danny’s character, as well.
‘He’s sensitive, yes, but not to an extreme,’ he said. ‘He’s not wet so I don’t think he’s a prude by any means; he just knows what he likes in life. Drugs don’t turn him on, work does. He works hard and should probably play harder but in not doing so has excelled in his academic career throughout his life.’
He was different from Matt in that respect, as well. Matt certainly worked hard, but he was not overly academic. (He was always rather embarrassed about the fact that his degree was a 2:2, although he cited, with some justification, the fact that for the last six months of his university career, he was actually on stage.) And he did retain some balance in his life. While he might not have pursued an actual career in football, it was still very important to him: he did not allow acting to become the be-all and end-all – apart from when it was really necessary, of course.
But he was very thorough when it came to analyzing the roles he played – he would be with Doctor Who, too. So then there was the relationship with his brother in the series. Was that important to him? ‘Yes. Danny would be lost without Scott and vice versa,’ said Matt (again, he was certainly becoming experienced at playing characters involved in complex familial relationships). ‘Danny looks up to him in many ways; he is both inspired and repulsed by his brother. Danny, not being particularly close to his mother, feels an increased emotional connection to his brother and their unconditional love. Scott reminds Danny to have fun; he pushes Danny forward at work, as well as paying the rent.’
Did Matt think that Danny was living in the shadow of his father and brother? ‘People may see it that way but not in Danny’s mind,’ he said. ‘He’s carrying forward a similar political nature to his father but not Scott – Danny doesn’t want to be a lobbyist, wear those stupid, overpriced pointy shoes or sleep with the Tory candidate!’
As for Danny’s feelings about Kirsty – ‘He loves her, love is blind. She’s pretty and she’s quite funny. She treats him like shit, pays him little attention and uses him for her own personal gain quite ruthlessly. He doesn’t know why but she rocks his world … Kirsty respects Danny, his work ethic, his ability and his loyalty to her. He pays her too much attention and therein lies his flaw: he can’t play hard to get or be sexy because he’s too honest. He’s an idiot for it but you love him as a result.’
When the series aired in 2007, it actually received pretty favourable reviews, another of the mysteries about why it never really took off. It was well plotted, well acted, went at a cracking place and could have been expected to do well. Had it done so, of course, it’s possible that Matt might not have been chosen to play Doctor Who, given that Steven Moffat and co. wanted an unknown, and so in many ways it’s as well for him that it didn’t work out, but it was a disappointment at the time.
‘The tone of Party Animals is pitched somewhere between The Thick of It and This Life and, surprisingly, they make a really nice job of it,’ according to arieltelly.co.uk, and this was a view that was reflected across quite a number of reviewers. ‘The central relationship between the brothers feels real despite the fact that they don’t even look like they belong to the same species, never mind the same family. Raquel Cassidy plays the sussed but stressed party operator Jo excellently and Andrea Riseborough nails the dead-eyed porno stare of the ruthless careerist with chilling accuracy. It’s tightly scripted with a great deal of care taken with the characters’ motivation.’
Thecustardtv was one of the first to point out that the cast was headed for greater things – and picked out Matt, in particular, as a standout cast member who would shortly be taking the world by storm. Just not in this series. ‘An excellent cast. We expect thespian opulence from Colin Salmon and Raquel Cassidy (after Lead Balloon), but were somewhat surprised by the rich quality of the younger cast members – Andrew Buchan, Matt Smith, Shelley Conn and Andrea Riseborough – especially as we’ve seen little or nothing of them before … Even though he was clumsily heralded as the ‘hero’ of the series through his admiration of the ANC and willingness to admit to his blunder that caused the collapse of Jo’s (Raquel Cassidy) new ministerial policy, Danny was very likeable as he ineptly tried to woo the doe-eyed Machiavelli-in-sheep’s-clothing Kirsty. Even his flaws were endearing, such as his witless efforts to slander Matt Baker by claiming that he got his position with slimy Tory shadow minister James Northcote through a blow job.’
Reviewers were not the only ones: Matt’s co-stars in the series were in no doubt that he was headed for greater things. When it was announced that he was to be the new Doctor, Clemency Burton-Hill, who had starred alongside Matt in Party Animals, recalled her time acting with him with great enthusiasm. ‘I remember sitting in a dingy rehearsal room reading through the script of the first episode and the rest of us being in stitches at Matt’s character Danny, the fiercely principled Labour Party researcher who falls in love with a ruthless intern played by Andrea,’ she wrote. ‘Matt would often do the unexpected – a look or different inflection, perhaps – to make his character all the more fascinating. He is so enthusiastic about life. He was always raving about a quirky new band he had heard, and you would hear him whistling along the corridors before you saw him.’
It wasn’t just critics who were watching the show with interest. So, too, were politicians, and the people who worked for them, who were rather bemused with the way they saw themselves pictured on screen. ‘I objected to the cynicism of it all, and the way we were all portrayed as being so ruthless,’ said Joshua Green, a researcher for the Liberal Democrats. ‘Mind you, I do work for the Liberal Democrats. We don’t drink that much or do all those class-A drugs either.’
Murad Ahmed, another Lib Dem researcher, saw something else they’d missed: ‘Party Animals fails to capture my abiding memory of parliamentary life – the overwhelming boredom. And geeks, when bored, fall into a dangerous spiral of geekery. I remember fighting off another intern for the best part of an hour to sit at the researcher’s desk when he wasn’t in (it had the best view of the TV).’
Many were also very amused by the on-screen capering, although said that it was not all entirely true to life. ‘It’s actually very rare you’d get an MP sleeping with their own assistant – it’s far more likely they’d be sleeping with someone else’s,’ said Alex Hilton, an erstwhile researcher to the MP Linda Perham. ‘But there is some care taken to be discreet – you don’t want to be known for the wrong kind of reputation. Parliament is rather like a cross between Hogwarts and a Carry On film. And it was quite a neat little place to stay overnight if you were out drinking in Soho. I remember one security guard who got very excited about a lady wandering around Portcullis House in a towel early one morning – she was a researcher for a Lib Dem MP. I certainly kipped over at least once or twice a month for the four years I was there – much safer than the night bus home. You can bumble back to Parliament, hazily show the security guard your clearance and collapse into your office. I used to keep a change of clothes there for that reason.’<
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As time went by, however, it began to become clear that the series wasn’t taking off. No one seemed to be absolutely clear as to why this was the case – perhaps it was just too close to its brilliant predecessor, The Thick of It, and suffered by comparison. After all, The Thick of It actually aired a couple of decades after Yes Minister, and so although the similarities were there for all to see, there was a sufficient passage of time to ensure that the one wasn’t always being judged against the other.
‘The general consensus is that it’s perfectly diverting, but not quite The Thick of It,’ wrote Martin Bright, political editor for the New Statesman. ‘But then perhaps if the programme makers had intended it to be The Thick of It, they would not have called it Party Animals but something else. The Thick of It, perhaps. As the programme’s political consultant I can confirm that every inaccuracy in the programme was identified in advance by me and ignored by the programme makers for artistic reasons.’
But it did have something – hence the general feeling of puzzlement when it didn’t quite take off. One anonymous blogger on the Guardian website’s Comment is Free pages was well qualified to judge: he (or she) worked for the Labour Party. ‘I liked it. I didn’t mean to, but I did,’ he began. ‘There is plenty wrong. Firstly, the actors are all better looking. And the policy stuff is rubbish. MPs’ researchers do not write Government policy, much as they wish they could. Do researchers swipe documents left by the opposition in the loo? Sure. But the only notes I’ve ever picked up in a Westminster toilet had nothing more significant on them than someone else’s piss. So what have they got right? Well, the offices look like Portcullis (though there are no gruesome portraits of David Cameron in the real corridors). Most of all, they’ve captured the reason we’re all here: everyone in Westminster village is either addicted to or dealing in gossip, hope, and power.’ In other words, powerful stuff, that should have, but didn’t, quite make a really classic TV drama.
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