Matt Lucas - The Face of Countless Characters

Sketch, or ‘broken’ comedy generally takes one of two forms: the Mainstream (mostly funny, often associated with one or two well-known names, broadcast on BBC1, ITV, Sky One) and the Alternative (hit and miss, often bizarre, featuring an ensemble cast, broadcast on BBC2 or Channel 4). In the former camp you might find Catherine Tate, Lenny Henry or Harry Enfield while the latter would be populated by the likes of Monty Python, Big Train or The Fast Show. Little Britain and Come Fly With Me would be uneasy bedfellows, which demonstrates the versatility of Matt Lucas. 

I know both shows are essentially two-handers, performing and writing duties shared with David Walliams, but for me it’s all about Lucas. David is the more outrageous but most of his characters are basically the same - grotesque women – while Matt is the superior, more subtle actor.

Then there’s his unique appearance. I suspect losing his hair to alopecia at the age of six must have been unimaginably traumatic but for an adult comedian the resulting baldness must be a boon. Like those games we had as children, where you had an outline head on which to design hair and beards with magnet and iron filings, Matt’s bonce is a brilliant blank canvas on which to create superb comedy characters, albeit with the contents of make-up boxes and costume wardrobes. 

Having said that, the first time I ever saw him was almost certainly in BBC2’s Shooting Stars, with no wig at all. Back in the Nineties, much of Matt Lucas’ TV work was surreal art-house stuff, from Blur and Fat Les videos and cameos with Reeves and Mortimer. I’ve written before that I always found Vic and Bob’s comedy too oddball for my taste and Shooting Stars, though resembling a panel game show, totally defied categorisation. It was basically another vehicle for the duo’s somewhat eccentric humour, into which Matt’s George Dawes, adorned inexplicably in a pink romper suit, fitted like a baby’s mitten. When the show was revived in 2009, he was a household name and could indulge in seemingly improvised wacky chat with celebrity guests like Dizzee Rascal as capably as the main stars. 

The Reeves and Mortimer connection continued in 2001 with a role as a mischievous ghost in Reeves and Hopkirk (Deceased) but there were also parts in sketch series Punt & Dennis and French & Saunders, which I also enjoyed watching. Around the turn of the millennium, Lucas turned up again with a new comedy partner called David Walliams in tow. I’m pretty sure I never watched it on UK Play but I did sneak a peek at Rock Profile when screened on BBC2. It was very akin to Reeves and Mortimer: the two stars appearing as disturbingly dark versions of musicians being interviewed by Jamie Theakston. Matt could portray anyone from Prince and Boy George to George Michael and Shirley Bassey! Too weird for me to watch every week but it could be very funny. 

The same applied in 2003 when Little Britain first broke out from Radio 4 to BBC3, and I was compelled by peer pressure to give it a try. The Tom Baker narration treats it as a documentary about typical British people but of course most of the Lucas/Walliams characters are either freaky, creepy or downright deeply unpleasant, the sort you’d move house to avoid. For example, I had a particular aversion to the slack-jawed wheelchair-user Andy who, unbeknown to his long-suffering carer Lou, was only pretending to be disabled. How could he be so cruel and selfish? And yet, thanks partly to Matt’s acting, I eventually cast aside such antipathy to enjoy the pair’s sketches. They were like mini-pantomimes; you wanted to shut “Behind you!” at poor Lou for as soon as his back was turned, his charge would leave his seat and ride a horse dive into a swimming pool or beat up a gang of bullies. Then there were his catchphrases, “Yeah I know…” and “Want that one…” I still use to this day. 

The outrageously camp Dafydd, determinedly “The Only Gay in the Village” even when faced with clear evidence to the contrary, was another Lucas triumph. The local landlady was played by Ruth Jones, at that time unfamiliar to me. By 2009, Dafydd managed to leave his Welsh village to interview a certain Elton John on Comic Relief. It still worked as the basic joke was that we all knew that Dafydd wasn’t the only gay in the palace… 

Other characters included the racist Marjorie Dawes who runs a slimming club while constantly mocking fat people and the flamboyantly obese Bubbles de Vere but my all-time favourite has to be West Country teenage ‘chav’ Vicky Pollard. How Matt Lucas managed to reel off her rapid-fire unintelligible explanations amazes me. The accent and attitude seemed cartoonish – until I found myself in Barnstaple for  work one afternoon in 2005. Walking towards the town centre I passed a gaggle of girls sitting on a wall, and the voices were pure Vicky. All that was missing was someone blurting, “Yeah but no but yeah but no but…..”! 

Little Britain ran for three domestic series, plus a USA follow-up and various one-offs or Comic Relief specials then, instead of churning out the old characters Lucas and Walliams returned in Christmas 2010 with a new venture Come Fly With Me. It was essentially Little Britain but in mockumentary format, set entirely in an airport populated by all-new characters. Personally I thought it much funnier than its celebrated predecessor. From the lazy West Indian coffee stall manager Precious (“Praise the lorrdd!”) and ground crew Taaj (“Innit”) to shady paparazzi, bitchy check-in girls and Japanese girls stalking Martin Clunes, there was so much to enjoy. As so often, it was the Matt Lucas characters who were more memorable. While Walliams would parade in wild lipstick or fake tan, Matt was the chameleon, equally credible as the daftly deluded Scottish boy Tommy and the middle-aged hen-pecked husband Peter, forever experiencing what his serial complainer wife called their “holiday from hell”. They were my faves. Such a shame only six episodes were made. 

More recently both series have attracted criticism for supposedly racist and sexist stereotyping. Now, I’ve never been comfortable with ‘blacking up’ but neither do I find cross-dressing for comedic effect remotely amusing, and where would British comedy be without that?!. However, the whole point of LB and CFWM was that we can laugh at ourselves the blatant caricatures and their instant catchphrases, almost all of which were uttered by Matt Lucas. 

In the past decade or so, he has become a hugely versatile and influential writer, performer and LGBT+ campaigner. He has reciprocated roles in friends’ own series, such as Gavin and Stacey and another Ruth Jones comedy Stella and also appeared in Russell T Davies’ Casanova and Doctor Who, playing the comical alien, duffle coat-wearing Nardole in several adventures. 

I also saw him on screen as a splendidly energetic Thenardier belting out ‘Master of the House’ in the 25^th anniversary concert production of Les Miserables. He’s not the best singer in the world but comic timing and a cheeky face can get you far! Only last year he found a new audience on Channel 4’s Great British Bake Off. Obviously I would never dream of wasting my time watching a cookery programme but Matt’s introductory Boris Johnson Covid briefing spoof deserved wider exposure on YouTube and Facebook. 

OK, so I can’t rave about everything he’s done, but Matt Lucas is a modern master of character sketch comedy with the potential to do a whole load more in the future.