I was very saddened to learn of the death of Terence Bayler.He was a fine actor: tall, handsome, with soulful eyes and a slight warble to his voice which could suggest plummy aristocracy or a hint of melancholy. He often played upper class toffs or British officers so I was shocked to discover, when I was invited to his home in 2013, that he retained the kiwi twang which gave away his working class New Zealand roots. I spent a delightful afternoon with him and his lovely wife Valerie, herself a talented actress (who also makes very nice muffins).
He was of course best known for his brilliantly funny contributions to Monty Python’s Life of Brian (1979) and for the key role of Macduff in Polanski’s bloody take on Macbeth (1971). He appeared in everything from Rutland Weekend Television (1975/76) to Lipstick On Your Collar (1993) via Upstairs Downstairs (1975) and had an enviable stage career too. He also told me my favourite Cyril Shaps anecdote ever.
He was nothing like most of the parts he played – he was extremely self effacing, down-to-earth and softly spoken. Unfailingly polite too – always ringing to thank one for an encounter or card or note. His approach to the profession was interesting too – he wasn’t an actor for any reason other than he figured that he could earn a living doing it. He was as happy in the garden or making things out of odds and ends as he was anywhere else.
I liked him a lot. I had contacted him because he played twice in Doctor Who, as a slave who met a sticky end (he was amused that a fan wrote to him about playing “the doomed Yendom”) in 1966’s The Ark opposite William Hartnell and as Major Barrington, one of his many military characters, exuding decency and stiff-upper-lipped resolve with just the right level of pathos in The War Games (1969). Both characters don’t get past a single episode but both performances are good and it’s nice to have him pass through the show playing such different roles.
I have gone into further detail in my Guardian obituaryhere, but there is no place for the more personal reminiscences in such a piece. I found Terry to be such a kind and gentle man : I was extremely touched to see him and Val waiting outside the Garrick theatre after my performance there. I’m blessed and flattered to have had such encounters with people whose work I have admired over the years – though it makes moments like this all the sadder. My condolences to Val and to his family (his daughter Lucy is an actress who had a four month stint in Eastenders as Elizabeth Beale in 1988 – and popped up again recently as a different character).
My 2013 interview with Terry can be downloaded for free from Big Finishhere.
I’m up to all sorts during this year’sPsoriasis Shout Out. I’ll be giving short talks at a couple of seminars in Manchester and London where people far more qualified than I will be on hand to provide credible testimony and scientific insight. I’ll be giving the patient perspective which is basically “Ow. Itch. Bloody Hell.” I might tell a joke though. There’s even talk of me taking part in a fashion show which I seem to have agreed to do without actually agreeing to do it.
I will definitely be doing that on June 19th at an extra XS Malarkey night– it’s a charity gig to coincide with the shout out and all profits will go to the Psoriasis Association. The line-up is damn good – Ben Lawes returns to the club for the first time in a while, and he is joined by John Cooper, the brilliant Newcastle comic who did a one-man show at the Edinburgh Fringe about our sister skin condition, eczema. Topping the bill is simply the best one-liner merchant in the business, the critically acclaimed Gary Delaney who has appeared on 8 Out Of 10 Cats and Mock The Week among many others.
The Shout Out was very successful last time: I got feedback from lots of people who – until they attended – didn’t know (a) much about the condition’s links to mental health problems (b) that there was more treatment available than time consuming and relatively ineffective creams, and (c) that They Are Not Alone. So if you know someone who has it who wants some proper insight into the condition (or wants to demonstrate such insight to their friends and loved ones – equally important) then point them in the direction of the Psoriasis Shout Out website (linked in the first paragraph of this post) for details of what’s going on.
Tickets for the comedy night are £5 and £3 and are only available on the door one the night. The show starts at 8pm.
It’s been very actor heavy of late so it’s time to delve behind-the-scenes to an era rather under-represented in the Who’s Round lexicon : the 7th Doctor’s.So there are plenty of stories about that turbulent time on the show, the regular cast who were extremely popular with the crew, and making space and time against the clock and for tuppence ha’penny.
This fellow has also worked on many other landmark BBC productions, as we only touch on those because his Doctor Who memories are so legion and detailed. It’s nice to have someone shedding light on these particular stories.
REG WHITEHEAD RIP – The First Cyberman dies, but his legacy encompasses more than his Doctor Who milestone…
Reg Whitehead, the actor who played Krail, the Cyberman who explains their origins during episode two of The Tenth Planet (1966), has died at the age of 83.He played another Cyberman – Jarl – later in the story, as well as featuring in the famous close-up which was our first view of the silver giants at the end of the opening instalment. He played Cybermen again in The Moonbase (1967) and Tomb of the Cybermen (1967) and also took centre stage for another popular monster’s debut by being the man inside the suit of the first Yeti to appear at the climax of the first part of The Abominable Snowmen (1967).
“The first ones were terrible – they chafed you, they were totally impractical. You couldn’t bend down. They were the most uncomfortable, smelly, disgusting costumes that ever the Beeb managed to make,”he told me a few years ago with a chuckle. And he should know – he was the “Ground Zero” Cyberman, working with designer Sandra Reid as she tried the costume out on him before the suits were finalised and filming began.
Discomfort aside he enjoyed working with both of his Doctors.William Hartnell, on his swan song, had a little fun with the young thespian. “He wasn’t a well man but he did have a lovely thing that he did with me. He said to me ‘Call yourself an actor? ‘I said ‘I try to become one Bill’. He said ‘Alright, if you can do this I’ll call you an actor.’” Reg laughed as he recalled Hartnell tap-dancing across the studio and back again, landing back in his starting position. “‘Can you do that?‘ [asked Hartnell]. I said ‘Not a chance,’ and he said ‘Well that’s the trouble with you youngsters today.’” He enjoyed working with his successor Patrick Troughton whom he described as “a lovely guy and – even up till now – one of the very best Doctor Whos there was.”
Despite his input into their original creation he was happier with the more streamlined and less cumbersome costumes that were created for the Cybermen in their second and third stories.“There was no question that they would have to redesign them, [for The Moonbase] but it [the discomfort] was still dire, it really was.” Having been a monster in Doctor Who he felt it difficult to be taken seriously by the production team as an actor outside of the costume but he did make a friend on The Moonbase. He and Frazer Hines shared a love for horses and the two of them would monitor the racing and betting in between rehearsals. On Tomb of the Cybermen he got friendly with Deborah Watling and took her out on a date.
The Yeti was costume was equally uncomfortable but “for five days we sat in a bus and watched the rain pour down” because there was location filming in Wales. “The day the bus pulled up and we were finally going to do the shoot. It was about 6 o’clock in the morning and there – lo and behold – was a tent which had been pitched during the night. I was told, to go and shake the guy ropes and see what happened. Two German students hurtled out of the thing and ran off as fast as their legs could carry them!”
He didn’t return to Doctor Who after The Abominable Snowmen. “I was doing other things. In the theatre mainly – the theatre was my greatest love anyway so I would always look there for my living” – but even that came to a stop.
“Pure luck,” is how he describes his move into the marketing of executive toys which led to his move away from acting .“A guy parked his van outside my flat and I said “Do me a favour, you couldn’t move your van could you?”. He said “I know you” and it turned out that he was an actor – Simon Prebble – and he came down and said to me, “I’d love to get you involved in this product here [in the van]. Within days I had been to the liquidator who had been involved with the company, Scientific Demonstrations, and I bought the bits and pieces for £500.” The “bits and pieces” included Newton’s Cradle, the famous swinging sphere construction used to illustrate the conservation of momentum and energy and which went on to decorate many a corporate desktop. “Five years later we sold it to the Americans. It’s responsible for pretty much everything you can see around you,” he said, indicating his handsome Newbury home, filled with charming, well-chosen paintings emphasising his enjoyment of the countryside and equine pursuits.
With a newfound financial freedom he managed to combine his love for racing with his business acumen and became a celebrated and successful racehorse owner. He still missed acting, though: “You never lose it – to walk away from it, it’s horrid.”
Born in Warwickshire in December 1932, he had got into the business when, having been in Canada for four years he entered a talent competition.The prize was a year’s drama training in London which he saw as a free ticket home. Having done that training he worked in rep and eventually broke into television, where his other credits included two consecutive episodes of Z-Cars as Detective-Constable Cropper (1963) and roles in the Power Game (1966 ), The Avengers (They Keep Killing Steed, 1968), The Saint (1969) and the Nigel Kneale play Wine of India (1970).
Reg died peacefully at home on March 11th at the age of 83.Stable owner Barbara Coakley paid tribute: “Reg was a lovely, kind man and great character. He was a very loyal owner and a great supporter of the yard, popping in regularly and meeting up in the local on Friday evenings for the racing crack.” There was a thanksgiving service for him a few weeks ago – trainer Richard Phillips was there to bid farewell to his friend, known in their circles as ‘Uncle Waggy’ : “A great character, the church was packed to say goodbye to one of life’s good guys. There were many smiles and laughs, just as Waggy would have loved there to be.”
As for his place in Doctor Who history: “It’s something I don’t bring up too often but it’s incredible how many people come up to me. Kids who were amazed – the look of awe on some people’s faces is amazing. It’s good fun to remind people sometimes – yeah, I was a Cyberman once.”
“I think that it was good television and it stands up well even today”
He is survived by his wife Linkie (who, on a personal note, is a very classy lady who couldn’t have been more charming when I visited them back in 2012) and by Deighton, a son.
This one was a long time coming, as I had already visited the gentleman once. On that occasion he asked not to be recorded as he felt his voice was weak. We then chatted for 3 hours after which he said “Oh, we should have recorded that!” Still, it meant I got to visit him all over again and that was an absolute pleasure because he has great recall and the most exquisite manners.
He has probably worked with all the major UK comedians of the 20th century.He also has more than a little tie with the Fifth Doctor’s favourite sport. His Doctor, however, was the first. His brush with an alien invasion wasn’t his only connection to Doctor Who and he tells us about encountering a script editor in rep, a drunken Odysseus turning nasty and considering oneself lucky to have worked on such a variety of different things.