TV Review: Hattie by Bren
This is a serious review. Normal service will resume as soon as possible
Hattie
BBC Four
Writers: Stephen Russell and Andy Merriman
I approached this BBC dramatisation (aka ‘telling a story that may or may not include the truth’) with a degree of trepidation and a lot of curiosity. Hattie Jacques was a character from my early years. She can still be seen on television most weeks in various ‘Carry On…’ roles. To most of us the name ‘Hattie Jacques’ is synonymous with the phrase, ‘Oooh, Matron’.
But apart from playing opposite Syd James in 14 of the Carry On films, and being the perfect foil to Eric Skyes in the long-running TV series ‘Sykes’, I realised I knew very little about Hattie Jacques. I’d seen her on television hundreds of times, what did I know about the person? So I sat and watched ‘Hattie’, BBC Four’s latest toe-dip in to the waters of serious drama.
It was almost too easy to appreciate the authenticity of the setting. In those days everyone smoked, being gay was widely regarded as a criminal offence and people did sex as discretely as possible, and always did it behind closed doors. The classic dress designs were wheeled out, as were some classic vehicles. The fly in the authenticity ointment was the E-Type Jaguar the pivotal character John Schofield roared up in. The BBC gave him a Mark IV. It should have been a Mark II or earlier – tip for TV production companies: the Jaguar ‘2+2’ model didn’t roll off the production line until 1968, and Carry on Cabby – the film the character Hattie was working on at that time – was released in 1963.
I almost want to apologise for my car geekiness.
Hattie Jacques was married to John Le Mesurier for 16 years.
They had a tranquil, easy relationship that produced two children. But Hattie liked to be loved; she strayed, occasionally, from the marital bed, usually with her husband’s knowledge.
Her most significant affair – the relationship with John Schofield – became so serious, she moved him in to the family home as the lodger. This surreal situation was cleverly dealt with by the writers, Stephen Russell and Andy Merriman.
Hattie Jacques was a complex person; I’ve learned that she worked for various charities on an almost full-time basis. And at home she loved John le Mesurier, but lusted after John Schofield. The breakfast scene with Hattie, John and John sitting around the kitchen table was deliciously uncomfortable. But not as uncomfortable as the scene where her husband caught Hattie and Schofield banging away at each other.
‘I haven’t stopped loving you,’ she said, to her husband in the aftermath. ‘I don’t want to leave’, he replied. And in their own ways Jacques and le Mesurier were devoted to each other. ‘He’s no fucking good. He’ll hurt you’, said her husband, with tremendous prescience because, a few years later, Schofield did just that, when he left her for another woman.
Le Mesurier allowed himself to be manipulated out of the matrimonial bedroom and in to the spare bedroom, while Schofield assumed his place, but the awkwardness in the family home was palpable, and brilliantly captured by the cast.
One of the things gained from watching this drama is a new-found respect for John le Mesurier.
He tried to stick with Hattie, and had overlooked her earlier flings with other men, but the situation with Schofield couldn’t last. After the inevitable divorce, during which le Mesurier allowed himself to be painted as the guilty party, he married Joan Mallin. A few years later Joan left him for Tony Hancock, who she lived with for a year. Le Mesurier took her back when that relationship collapsed. It begs the question whether le Mesurier was a deeply flawed, insecure person, or did he have a boundless capacity to forgive?
The character of Hattie was played by Ruth Jones, more widely known as Nessa, in Gavin and Stacey.
Ruth Jones portrayed Hattie surprisingly well; changing from a comedy role to a straight actress was a display of significant versatility. Her work wasn’t BAFTA-quality, but Ruth Jones did her best given the material she had to work with. Robert Bathurst turned in a credible John le Mesurier. Aidan Turner didn’t quite work as Schofield, Hattie’s main bit-on-the-side. I don’t know why, maybe it was something to do with his demeanour and speech pattern jarring with the period, but it wasn’t quite right.
Hattie was a selfish person, but not in a ‘having tantrums’ kind of way. She worked hard for her charities, she worked hard on her acting career on film, stage, TV and radio, and she worked hard cleaning, cooking and running the house. But she loved her men and wanted to have her cake and eat it.
When Schofield abandoned her, she had no-one to turn to. She started to eat and rapidly became the larger-than-life character that many of us would associate her with; it’s very easy to forget that in her younger screen-days, Hattie Jacques was a relatively slender person. Towards the end of her career she suffered various weight-related medical conditions that resulted in her being unable to get insurance for film-work. Jacques continued working on radio, TV and on stage until her health finally collapsed. Hattie Jacques died in Kensington on 6th October 1980.
The ‘easy to overlook’ production aspects of sound, vision and directorship for Hattie were of above average quality. This was a well put-together production that the BBC should be proud of. It is disappointing that the drama was tucked away on a minor TV station. I don’t understand why quality such as Hattie gets hidden on BBC Four, whilst the more mainstream BBC1 and BBC2 force utter rubbish down our throats at peak viewing times. In places, the writing was transparent and weak, but a strongly-directed cast more than made up for this minor criticism.
I’m glad I watched Hattie. But I’m sad for the unhappiness she had in her life.
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This is a nice review. I didn’t know Hattie and John were married. I saw the programme in the schedule but didn’t watch it. I now wish I had.
You can watch Hattie on the iPlayer, unless you don’t see this for ages and they take it down.
“force utter rubbish down our throats” You must have a large vacant space in your life if TV is your only form of entertainment. Do you select the movies you go to see at the cinema, or simply pay up and watch everything that is “forced down your throat”? Just an observation, that’s all.