I’ve
paid enough attention to observe that Rodney was and remains a comedy character
who seems to flit in and out of scenes without any heavy storylines. Yet my
first impression on was disbelief; blimey, it’s only Patrick Mower!
It
brought back vivid memories of the one-time tough guy and Seventies heartthrob.
Rodney is a bit of a throwback to that era anyway, wealthy and waltzing through
life, trying to relive his youth through sex, drugs and a few nefarious
activities. The blow-dried hair may be tinged with steel grey but the broad
cheeky grin hasn’t changed. Incredibly he’s now in his eighties!
The
Mower I remember wouldn’t have spent much time in a country pub or farm shop.
He was usually playing suave spies or all-action cops, and not necessarily
likeable ones. I can’t be sure where I first saw him. It could have been in ITV’s
impenetrable spy series Callan.
Edward Woodward played the eponymous secret agent but Mower and another face of
Seventies TV, Anthony Valentine, were regular members of his team. Like many
threads from the era, Mower’s ‘dead sheep’ jacket passed the fashion police
test but is in severe danger of getting arrested in 2020.
I
have stronger memories of Special Branch.
It had been launched during the Sixties as a predominantly studio-based drama but
it’s the later series which I recall. George Sewell’s DCI Craven and Patrick
Mower’s more rough and ready DCI Haggerty were more often found arguing in
offices or chasing villains on location and there was enough action to keep
this twelve year-old interested. I always felt Haggerty was the perfect name
for the character and it wasn’t much of a leap to Hackett, which provided Mower’s
first real starring role a few years later in Target.
After
Special Branch, Euston Films had ramped up the violence – and popularity
amongst teenagers – with The Sweeney.
In ’77, the Beeb responded in kind with a new Patrick Mower vehicle. Speaking of
vehicles, DSupt Steve Hackett would tear around the Home Counties in Ford
Granadas and Transit vans, not to mention his personal Mercury Cougar, before
indulging in lots of gratuitous chases and punch-ups. Sadly, being the BBC, the
bosses kow-towed to Mary Whitehouse’s tiny but influential bunch of
complainers, toning down the action and killing off the show after only two
series. Admittedly it wasn’t as compelling as The Sweeney or The Professionals
but Patrick Mower was very much the equal, if not the superior of Martin Shaw
or Lewis Collins.
It
was perhaps ironic that Patrick had in 1975 guest-starred in two of the most
memorable episodes of The Sweeney. In
‘Golden Fleece’, he and George Layton played a pair of Aussie armed robbers,
whose ‘Nice and easy does it’ theme and easy-going banter enabled them to
achieve the impossible and outwit Regan and Carter. They weren’t archetypal
Flying Squad baddies. Instead of hard men played by Ronald Lacey, Ken Hutchison
or Ian Hendry, they were actually quite wimpy, furthering their careers with
corny chat-up lines to make girls swoon and a fine line in light banter. Those,
and an arsenal of shotguns and grenades. A few weeks later they showed up again
but this time the forces of law and order took revenge. In a classic shootout
in a Wapping wasteland, the outnumbered bad boys were finally captured. Was
it just me who cheered when they were caught? Viewers were clearly encouraged
to admire the loveable rogues but – hang on – they were vicious criminals
unafraid to terrorise householders and shoot to kill when cornered….
The
notion of Patrick Mower the criminal charmer was so strong that in 1981 he
evaded another normally infallible detective in the form of Bergerac. No shotguns this time – it was
set on Jersey, after all – but he nonetheless contrived to outrun our Jim and
bid a cheeky wave from the ferry as it headed away from the quay. He never
returned either. Instead he appeared on another island, Rhodes, for a
supernatural thriller, Dark Side of the
Sun. I know I watched it, but can remember very little.
His
stock as a twinkly-eyed, dimpled ladies’ man remained high in the mid-Eighties,
endearing him to viewers and marketing men alike. He became a familiar face
advertising that once-trendy tipple Babycham and the rather more masculine if mundane Austin Rover cars. Apparently
Patrick Mower once said he would never do more than two series in any single
role, which brings me back to Emmerdale and
Rodney Blackstock,
played so far for twenty years. With villainous tendencies and an
impudent glint in the eye, it feels like he’s been playing that role forever.
No comments:
Post a Comment