The Smell of Fear (originally published March 2002)

Right. Let's get this show on the road... As mentioned in the previous post, I spent a very happy couple of years as Assistant Editor of a great little listings magazine called Footloose. It was a proper "baptism of fire" and I voluntarily worked stupid hours for not-much-money but would do it all again tomorrow if I could. A remarkable experience, and gave me some incredible opportunities. Richard O'Brien remains, I think, my favourite interviewee ever, a genuinely fascinating man and as big a fan of the tangent as I am. 

Chitty Chitty Bang Bang opens at the London Palladium next week. Neil Davey plucks up the courage to have a chat with the Child Catcher himself, Richard O’Brien…

 

Freddy Krueger? Rubbish. Hannibal Lecter? Ditto. Michael Myers? Not in the slightest, mate. The scariest film character ever is, obviously, the Child Catcher in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

Played by ballet dancer Robert Helpmann, this minor character has caused generations to hide behind the settee and loosened many a childish bladder. Now the “mantle of terror” has passed to Richard O’Brien who’ll be donning the hat and sniffing out the “kiddie vinkies” at the London Palladium from April 16.

“If you look at the little role the Child Catcher had,” says Richard in those familiar cultured tones, “there’s no reason why the character should be remembered with such horror and such deep felt unease, but I believe it has to do with primal memories.

“I read that the reason we don’t like fingernails down a blackboard is because it’s a sound that, in our ape history, we would have made as a warning cry. It’s very similar, apparently, to the cry of chimps and other great apes in moments of fear. It’s a penetrating noise which raises the hackles and releases adrenaline.

“Now this is speculative,” Richard smiles, “but there are an awful lot of primal things that we carry with us, that we feel we’ve left or should have left behind. And I think the Child Catcher presses the primal buttons. For one, he’s stealing children. That’s a very basic fear, not only on an emotional level but on a basic level of progeny, not being able to have our genes go on. In ape cultures, and in our early cultures, the first thing that happened when a new ‘King Dick’ came up was he’d kill the male children of the previous ‘King Dick’ and I think we carry these things with us…”

That’s as maybe but the way Helpmann, a trained ballet dancer, skips across the picturesque town square – a scene Richard likens later – and accurately – to “a big black spider landing in an otherwise lovely setting” – is, basically, what gave me the willies.

“Well, he’s very pixie-like,” explains Richard, “but if we look at the drawings of Arthur Rackham and other fairytale artists from the turn of last century, we get these people with long, spindly fingers, strange willowy figures, and pointy noses. I don’t think Mr. Rackham invented those without having some kind of primal knowledge of what it meant to him and to us.”

Actually, Richard has a point. The main character in Shockheaded Peter is similar and that’s based on German folklore. It’s the same look for vampire legend Nosferatu. So, many different cultures but, perhaps, the one shared primal memory.

“We immediately say that tall and strong is a hero figure, but we also know that tall and strong people can be as thick as shit and be cowards,” laughs Richard. “But we invest different looks with different attitudes. Thin equates with predatory and unhealthy. Fat says success – people laugh at and with fat people more readily. There are more fat comics than there are thin comics.”

Of course, on that basis, Richard should be very scary (and I should be very funny). However, curled up in a chair in the corner of his dressing room, the slight and sprightly Richard – it’s hard to believe he recently turned 60 – is extremely charming and enthusiastically knowledgeable rather than “predatory”. In the space of a few minutes, our conversation bounces off at all sorts of tangents to take in the cinematic qualities of the novels of Dashiel Hammet, 1860’s architecture, the logistics of time travel – “you’d have to be invisible so you don’t fuck up the time line or have to explain yourself” – and Gershwin lyrics, among several other subjects. All of which means it’s hard to equate the ‘real’ Richard with his latest role. Of course, The Crystal Maze – where he was pleasantly sarcastic – and his own Rocky Horror Show – pleasantly sinister – showed that the ‘professional’ Richard is quite a different proposition.

“I think it’s obvious casting me in this role, quite frankly. I’ve played in quite a few areas of the old entertainment world and one of the hats I’ve worn from time to time has been a producer’s hat, where you have to sit down and talk about casting. Well, I can see my name going into the hat quite easily for someone to play the Child Catcher – and I didn’t want anybody else to come out of the hat.

“I know two names that were in the hat with me.” Richard laughs conspiratorially. “They don’t know that I know! But, at the end of the day, when I went along to meet Adrian [Noble, the show’s director] and Gillian [Lynne, the choreographer], I said ‘now that you’ve met me, I don’t think there’s any point you seeing anyone else because it would be perverse to do so!’ I can’t think of anyone better to play this role. I think I am the best person available in London to play this role.”

Richard reveals one of the other names in the hat: a famously intense actor who, we speculate, would have been too much. Helpmann was scary because initially he seemed so pleasant – something Richard is certainly suitable for. “I can bring the silliness to the part that there has to be to take the edge off it,” he explains.

Although based on a short story by Ian Flaming, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang as we know it – eccentric inventor, flying car, Toot Sweets, etc., – owes more to another famous author.

“Not to take anything away from Fleming, the key factor is Roald Dahl,” advises Richard. “When they did the screenplay, it was Dahl that made the changes and gave us the story that we know today. Dahl’s a great storyteller – a better storyteller than Fleming, although Fleming was very good narratively with Bond. I don’t think I’ve ever read the original book of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang; it’s short, a parable against Nazi Germany.” Richard considers this for a second. “I think that’s got something to do with our fear of the Child Catcher as well – that totalitarian Herod thing.”

The new production is rumoured to be one of the most expensive theatrical events ever. It’s certainly one of the most technical.

“It’s not necessarily the most technical show ever,” reveals Richard, “but it is highly technical. If we’re to pull it off, the changes have to be fluid and that’s the problem. Everybody on stage has to be fully aware so that they can move and not get hit by this as that’s coming out and the other’s flying in.”

How did you get into acting in the first place?

“I’ve always wanted to perform. I’ve always liked to make believe. I don’t think of myself as an actor so much as someone who makes believe, I just adore being part of that ‘let’s pretend’ process. That’s about it as far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing really more than that. I mean, yes, there’s the narcissism, a certain exhibitionism involved, that’s true of all actors  - and don’t believe anyone who says otherwise because they’re lying. The need for applause, the need to be loved in the child is always ever present in the actor. It’s not a job for a grown-up really…”

Of course you can’t have a chat with Richard and not mention The Rocky Horror Show, his cult show that celebrates its 30^th anniversary next year.

“It seems a contradiction in terms, doesn’t it?” Richard laugh. “It’s populist yet it’s still cult, isn’t that weird? Anyway, it’s going out on the road right through next year for the anniversary.” The Palladium’s tannoy system crackles into life. “Mr. O’Brien to the Stalls Bar please.” “Which makes it rather a nice pension to have,” Richard continues. “Do you want to come down? I just have to rehearse a song.”

As I collect my things, Richard chats away behind me. I turn around. My heart skips, my bladder flexes: for a second, Richard has disappeared and I’m alone in a room with the Child Catcher. “I have to wear the coat for the dance,” explains Richard, merrily, clearly unaware of the recent threat to his dressing room carpet.

The entertaining, free-ranging conversation – “this production has 75 children and 10 dogs, that’s a lot of animals on stage” – continues as we wander down to Richard’s rehearsal, past lots of busy people, some fantastic scenery and – yes! – Chitty Chitty Bang Bang herself.

As we arrive in the Stalls Bar, a couple of men are busy making something that it transpires, will become the Child Catcher’s carriage. One of them is painting a candy cane prop. Richard spies it – and suddenly the Child Catcher whispers “Lollipops, children. Lots of lovely lollipops…” just behind my left ear. It is the single scariest moment of my life and then, suddenly, he’s Richard again. “ooh, what’s that, he exclaims, admiring a mask. “Oh, that’s fab, that’s beautiful, I want one of those…”