Friday, April 22, 2011

Easter Soap Thoughts

So, the baby story on EastEnders has finally come to an end, and that now leaves me free to ponder all those niggling, worrying questions that I have been shelving.

Such as: what has happened to Paddy’s hair in Emmerdale? I have been Googling this for a while, and apparently there is no sinister story: the general theory is that he has been wearing a wig for some time (I hadn’t even noticed) and probably just got fed up with the heat of filming under it (I suspect Corrie’s Sophie has the same feeling under that crinoline toilet roll cover of a beret she has been wearing of late).

Also, on Emmerdale: what has happened to Kelly’s face? I adore Adele Silva, who plays her (nobody bitches it better), but how and when did she acquire those lips?

Did she give birth to Elliott through her mouth?

As a side note in relation to Emmerdale . . . I was watching (for about the 20th time) To Sir With Love today and noticed, in the credits, the name of Christopher Chittell (along with names such as Lulu, Judy Geeson and Adrienne Posta – all very big in their day, for those of you young enough to be my children/grand children). He had a pretty signifiacent role, too, as the young Potter. And he is amazing.

I assumed it was the same Chris (and subsequently discovered it to be him - thank you, again, Google), who has brilliantly (and just as amazingly) been playing Eric Pollard for aeons in Emmerdale, and I was really thrilled to see his name in the credits of what is, to me, one of the greatest films ever made. Blimey! He is one of the most lovely actors I have ever met and could - and should - be screaming from the rooftops about this role, which his young self carries off with extraordinary sensitivity.

I don't care how long ago it was. Talent is talent. Gosh. Honestly. I'm even more in awe of him than I already was. How many of you know this about the guy?

If you haven’t seen To Sir With Love (virtual children and grand children!), do! It is an incredible, brave film, with a moral heart that is so lacking in much of today’s cinema, and I spent Good Friday in tears after watching the star of the movie, Sidney Poitier, in another of his great films, Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner?

I met Sidney last year in LA and was beside myself with excitement. We often forget how far we have come in relation to prejudice, not only in relation to racism, but life in general – and how very far we still have to go. Anyway, I was thrilled to see Chris’s name, and young performers should be reminded of what is undoubtedly a privilege to be working with actors who have trodden the boards long before their own trees were even planted. But I digress . . .

So, other things that I have been thinking about . . . How many wigs does Corrie’s Hayley have – one week light brown, the next week dark? Will she ever go shopping for a new Mac (the coat, not the laptop) to replace that red one, and could she possibly take EastEnders’ Alfie, cemented into that black leather jacket, with her when she does?

Will EastEnders’ Jack ever have sex with anyone who (a) doesn’t get pregnant, (b) is me?

Okay, I digress again, but he really is the hottest totty out there at the moment, although I await David Essex’s arrival with great trepidation). I saw Mr Essex in Godspell in London's Wyndham's Theatre in 1972 (the year I bought my first "surf beads" - I was sooooo hip!), when I went up on stage at the end, where he signed my cork (not a euphemism, alas - I picked it up from the stage floor from the bottle used for the Last Supper. Gosh, they knew how to throw a stage party for the audience in those days).

I interviewed the star once, too, and I didn’t shut up for the three hours over lunch: “I loved you in Godspell and then I bought all your albums and when I saw you in That’ll be the Day with Ringo Starr and you touched that girl’s naked breast and then Ringo said at the miniature golf ‘Good practice for getting things into holes’ and then you were on that suicide mission in Stardust but then I saw you in Evita . . . .” On and on and on. The poor man managed just six words: “Thanks”, every 30 seconds when I paused for breath during my adulatory monologue.

Anyway, have a great Easter, everyone, and keep watching your favourite shows! Check out my other blog, too, http://lanotsoconfidential.blogspot.com.

PS But dammit!!! Chris Chittell!!!! And Sidney Poitier!!!!! Listen up, people! AND LEARN!