Barrymore: I'm not aw-wight (From Bucks Free Press)

Barrymore: I'm not aw-wight

8:43am Friday 1st February 2008 in Freetime By Francine Wolfisz

A SMALL church hall in West London is not the first place you would think of to meet Michael Barrymore. At one time, the award-winning entertainer commanded record-breaking television viewing figures and theatres were packed to the rafters whenever he went on tour.

But today we meet in more modest surroundings, where Michael is busy rehearsing Surviving Spike, a drama recounting the life of eccentric comedian Spike Milligan.

The play, which has been penned by Richard Harris, opens for a 12-day run in Windsor next week.

Walking into the rehearsal room, I'm anticipating shaking hands with the man who loved to run around the stage with boundless energy and ask his admiring audience if they were "Aw-wight". Self-assured, charming and ever-so-openly hyperactive, that was the Michael Barrymore I remember.

But today the 56-year-old cuts an altogether type of figure.

Upon first glance, it's difficult to recognise the man who unfailingly graced prime-time television with such favourites as Strike It Lucky, My Kind of Music and Barrymore.

"That’s what comedians do. Comedy can be used as a defence mechanism or a survival mechanism."

Michael Barrymore

With silvery hair and an unfamiliar grey beard, the once charismatic Michael has been replaced with one who is quieter and more on his guard than we are used to.

In the few days before the show's opening night, which will mark the first time Michael has ever appeared in a theatre drama, he looks like he is beginning to feel the nerves.

"It's quite a sadistic business isn't it? But we put ourselves through it every time," remarks Michael. "I think I'll be just as nervous as when I started out and then probably in two weeks' time I'll think: What was I worrying about?' "

Michael says he's not been able to eat or drink lately, a sign of anxiety about treading the boards once more or perhaps, he tells me jokingly, a form of "morning sickness". His co-star, former EastEnders actress Jill Halfpenny, is seven months pregnant and Michael is beginning to think he has developed "a phantom pregnancy in sympathy for her".

But perhaps he is also feeling the pressure of returning to the spotlight and how the media will react to his latest foray into the world of acting.

It's no surprise he is wary of the press - after all, the happenings of his private life in the last few years have been well documented by the tabloids: his alcoholism, his divorce from his wife, Cheryl, and his sexuality have all hit the headlines. But it was the death of a man at his Essex home in 2001 that really changed the course of his once flourishing career.

Today, it's made clear that Michael does not want to talk about the events of recent years, but he does want to tell me about his return to the stage, which is where he can find his "comfort zone". Looking a little more relaxed, he tells me he is genuinely looking forward to the new role.

He says: "It's a brand new project and the first time that it has been premiered. That's the upside of it, that's a real buzz. If you get that right, they can't take that away from you, because you are one of the originals."

Michael's enthusiasm will serve him well for a role that is no doubt challenging, for taking up the mantle of Spike Milligan is no easy task. The odd-ball comedian, who died in 2002, is best remembered for his 1950s radio comedy, The Goons, as well as his surreal television sketch show, Q.

The play, which is based on the memoirs of Norma Farnes, Milligan's former agent, manager and confidante, also reveals just how far bipolar disorder affected his life.

Over the course of his life, Milligan suffered at least ten major mental breakdowns.

"The play is bizarre and heavy, very black, but very funny," explains Michael. "It's also a brilliant study about two people in a relationship on a business level, as well as personal, but without actual consummating that relationship in the traditional sense.

"It reveals how Norma deals with this man of two extremes. He was too much, manically too much, but equally so too was his generosity. He wouldn't seek any gain from his nicer side and that's really what made him who he was."

Michael was first offered the role last year, while having dinner with theatre impresario Bill Kenwright. He explains: "I was just mucking about, doing a bit of stand-up and a few impressions, when Bill suddenly turned to the others said: Look, there's Spike over there.' And I said: What do you mean?' It was then he told me he had this play about Spike Milligan and I should read it."

Having accepted the role, Michael says it gave him a chance not only to reclaim the stage, but also to play a man he had great respect for. He bashfully tells me that he was "quite in awe of Spike" and had met the honorary knight on a few occasions.

Reminiscing with a smile, Michael says: "I saw him at the British Comedy Awards in 1994, where he made that comment about Prince Charles being a grovelling little bastard'. Afterwards, we arranged for him to come onto my chat show, Barrymore.

"Half-way through the interview, which was bizarre, he slumped down onto the sofa and said: "You're off your chump, you know". And I said, "That's rich, isn't it, coming from you?" It was all along that vein."

The exchange was a memorable experience for Michael, but he says on stage he has no intention to mimic the real-life Milligan.

"I'm not going to be doing an impression of Spike," explains Michael. "That would be a nonsense, a madness, trying to keep that up for two hours. Of course, I can do the little high voices, but I'm playing it in the style of a man who has been portrayed by Norma and playwright-wise by Richard Harris."

But playing the highs and lows of a manic depressive has, says Michael, given him more insight into people suffering from the condition. He tells me that he even understands why Milligan turned to comedy at his lowest points.

The former family favourite says tellingly: "I can see what's going on with him in the sense when he's losing it and why he's doing that. In the heavier scenes, Spike tries to get out of that cycle with comedy. That's what comedians do. Comedy can be used as a defence mechanism or a survival mechanism."

He adds: "Myself, when I was young kid, that's what I was doing. It was survival against my dad, who used to come home drunk. If you make people laugh, they don't ask you questions.

"So you find out that comedy is very powerful, but then you're constantly following yourself, trying to keep that up.

"Then you start thinking you've got to do that at times when you don't have to and it's not alright to be sad."

So what does he feels the future now holds for him?

"I'd really like to do more on the acting side, but only if I'm considered right for it," he tells me. He adds: "It's been suggested that I'd make a good Malvolio, which funnily enough I did for my audition at Lamda."

Then, with a trademark wink in his eye, he quips: "I think I'd better get Spike right first."

His choice of Spike Milligan, then Malvolio seems interesting to me. Does Michael perhaps see himself now as the outsider, the oddball, the one who no-one really seems to understand?

With this thought in mind, I round off the interview with a question relating to Spike Milligan's preferred epitaph, "I told you I was ill". So I ask Michael what he would want as his own epitaph.

He thinks for a second, then smiles and nods, leaving me hanging for the answer. Finally the words come out: "You know what it would say? No, I'm not aw-wight."

Next week: Interview with Jill Halfpenny