It
was part and parcel of my soundtrack, especially in the Seventies, beginning
with Whatever Happened to the Likely
Lads? I was too young to have seen the original Sixties comedy series which
made stars of Bolam and Rodney Bewes but there was something about the revival
which chimed with this young Southerner.
The
stagey production and camerawork might appear dated but I still enjoy watching
the series more than forty years later. The marvellous dialogue written by Dick
Clement and Ian La Frenais still sounds fresh but when spoken by the stars it
assumes a whole new life of its own, and it’s Bolam’s character Terry who’s the
heart and soul of the show. Even the themes of nostalgia, melancholy and
childlike mistrust of foreigners are as pertinent today as they ever were, with
Terry portraying Nigel Farage’s working-class muse in the early days of our
liaison with Europe.
To
be honest, I was more drawn to his upwardly-mobile mate Bob; Terry was a bit
too rude, crude and politically incorrect. In today’s landscape, Bob would
probably vote Green or Lib Dem while Terry would surely be a flag-waving
Brexiteer. Yet James Bolam made him a sympathetic character; I felt sorry for
his plight, returning from the army to find his world turned upside-down.
If
there’s one thing I don’t like about Bolam’s acting style it’s his tendency to
shout all his lines, as if always aiming for the rear seats in the Upper
Circle. This was particularly palpable in his role of Roy Figgis in ITV’s Only When I Laugh which ran for four
series in my university years. I watched only a couple of episodes. Eric
‘Rising Damp’ Chappell’s scripts were quite amusing but Bolam’s delivery gave
me a headache! When Thames adapted the Daily Mirror cartoon Andy Capp for the small screen in 1988 I
didn’t even give it a try despite Bolam surely being a perfect fit.
What
I did watch was the late-Seventies BBC drama series When the Boat Comes In.
Whilst firmly grounded in the North East, this was no comedy. It lived or died
on the credibility of the hero Jack and, thanks to James Bolam’s star quality
and acting ability, it racked up 51 episodes of often enthralling television
which hooked the whole family. The jaunty Geordie folk song, performed by Alex
Glasgow, drew you in but it wasn’t a jolly romp. Instead it followed Jack‘s
journey from World War 1 demob through the social and political turmoil on
poverty-stricken ‘20s Tyneside. I don’t normally do costume drama but, despite losing
its way a little towards the end, When The Boat… left me with fonder memories
than any Catherine Cookson serialisation.
No
longer a likely lad, in the Eighties Bolam showed a real talent for
comedy-drama. In ’85, he starred in Yorkshire TV’s The Beiderbecke Affair as a jazz-loving woodwork teacher who, along with his colleague and girlfriend
played by Barbara Flynn, becomes involved in unlikely mysteries and adventures.
Apparently Alan Plater adapted the characters from an earlier series starring Alun
Armstrong, another North Easterner who has graced TV and theatre for many years
and whose career path has often crossed that of Bolam’s. I think watching the
series would originally have been Dad’s choice, given the provenance of writer,
star and music, but my diary records that all three serials of what became
known as The Beiderbecke Trilogy were among my favourites of the period.
James
seemed to disappear off my personal radar for several years before resurfacing
as a reluctant hero in The Missing Postman,
one of those uplifting, heartwarming two-parters so beloved of the Beeb on
Easter weekends during the Nineties. By now in his sixties he later joined an
ensemble cast in Born and Bred.
Prompted by Mum I reckon I watched a few episodes but the rose-tinted view
of rosy-cheeked Northern folk in the Fifties made me see red and, despite the
presence of Mr B, I found alternative things to do with my life on Sunday
evenings.
Amongst
other things I almost certainly caught him guesting as a priest on Dalziel and Pascoe (can’t remember
whether or not he ‘dun it’), before he landed possibly a role in possibly his
most popular series for decades, New Tricks.
Harnessing the talents of former coppers played by a trio of much-loved actors,
it built a huge following on BBC1 and I, too, became a fan. A crime show with a
light touch, it proved a winning formula. However, if anything, James Bolam was
outshone by Dennis Waterman (well, he did sing the theme tune, of course) and
the dogged but dour Alun Armstrong whose wife in the series was Susan Jameson,
in reality married to Bolam, with whom she had played Jessie in When the Boat Comes In. Aye, bonnie lad,
it’s an incestuous business
As I write this, James Bolam is still going aged 84.
Fellow Likely Lad Rodney Bewes is no longer with us but, even with extra
wrinkles and rheumier eyes, I’m sure the venerable son of Sunderland can still
hold the screen with a canny twinkle and a perfectly timed comic line.
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