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I’ve been ‘Spiked’

                         

By

Alan Spencer

 

‘You know he’s difficult to work with?’ said the knowing

voice on the other end of the phone. ‘Yes I had heard’ I replied with a sigh. I

took a deep breath and prepared to brief my staff. The subject of our

conversation was Spike Milligan and it had gone around the grapevine

that Spike could be awkward. Just a year before, Peter Sellars, his Goon

co-star and my hero, had a couple of production people sent home the night

before the first days shoot. Their ‘crime’ had been that they asked Peter how

he would approach his character for the Barclaycard commercial they were about

to shoot! Full of insecurities Peter thought they were questioning his ability.

The two young men were so in awe of him, they were simply eager to find out how

he worked. Mr Sellars would have none of it, either they flew home on the first

plane from Dublin or he would refuse to do the shoot.

Would we have similar problems with Spike? We had to

be prepared. I strode purposefully into the production office. “Right listen

up. Our shoot in a couple of weeks could be a bit of a challenge. You’ve all

heard the rumours about Spike; well it looks as if they may well be true. We

must treat him with kid gloves. Give him what he wants, massage his ego. We

can’t afford to risk any Prima Donna histrionics.”

In this business there is nothing worse than trying

to deal with narcissism. Later that week I had a call from his agent, the

legendary Norma Farnes, who wanted to warn me about a couple of things.

“Spike has great difficulty sleeping,”

she said. I had heard that sleeping was a problem for him. “If he doesn’t get a

good night’s sleep he won’t be at his best and it makes him very edgy”. I

reassured her, “don’t worry I’ll find a decent hotel for him.” “He must have

quiet,” she insisted. “Don’t worry I’ll see to it myself.” Without interrupting

her flow she continued, “There’s one more thing. He hasn’t been very well and

he needs to keep warm. Make sure he is well wrapped up.” 

I took my producer and assistant to one

side and briefed them on finding the best hotel in Ascot and to make sure the

rooms were well soundproofed. They found the perfect room in the perfect hotel

and everyone breathed a huge sigh of relief.

A couple of days before the shoot, Spike

telephoned, as he wanted to go through the script. It was a commercial for a

Scottish Bank and the premise was that he had been hunting for a good mortgage,

found one and was now moving into his ideal house. I wanted him in Safari gear

complete with pith helmet and I was to shoot him in various scenes around the

‘wild foliage’ of his Ascot garden, an idea he seemed to like. So while he was

in a good mood I thought I would make him even happier by telling him that we

found an excellent hotel for him, with very quiet rooms and close to the

location. “Oh, No, No, NO,” he cried down the phone. I recoiled. “I can’t stay

there. I have to stay with my doctor in Golders Green. He makes up a bed for me

in his spare room. I’m used to it and I’m very comfortable there.” “Well if

you’re sure…” “Yes, yes I must stay with him.” I wasn’t going to argue.

Whatever made him happy was OK by me.

The first day of the shoot arrived and I

was ‘edgy’. We rehearsed the first shot in his absence, as he was arriving

later to give him as much sleeping time as possible. Eventually Spike arrived

and I gritted my teeth and made my way over to introduce myself. As I walked to

his trailer, I was working out the best way to tell him that I wanted him to

wear shorts. I knew his agent wanted him wrapped up but this would be OK, as I

wanted him to wear Long John pants underneath, which I thought would look funny

and I hoped he would agree. “Hello Spike,” I said with the friendliest voice I

could muster. “I’m Alan the director.” In typical Spike form he replied, “I’m

70 what’s your excuse?” We had a chuckle over that then I hit him with, “Look

Spike I’d like you to wear shorts….” Before I could finish he protested, “No I

told Norma I needed to be warm on this shoot.” “It’s OK really.” I said reassuringly.

“I want you to wear Long John pants underneath.” He loved the idea and so we

got off to a good start and the rest of the day went well. The following

morning an assistant came to tell me Spike was in his trailer waiting. With a

spring in my step I went across to see him but as I opened the door the smile

soon disappeared from my face. Spike looked dreadful and just sat there, eyes

staring. Putting on a brave face I enquired, “Morning Spike everything

alright?” Without making eye contact, he slowly shook his head. “No, I had a

dreadful night. Couldn’t sleep a wink.” My worst nightmare! I tried to make

light of it. “I know exactly what you feel like, I have bad nights myself.”

(True!) I’ve tried everything but nothing seems to work”. I said sympathetically.

Still staring into space and breathing heavily Spike managed a reply. “I get up

and drink a bottle of red wine.” “Does that get you back to sleep?” I asked

with genuine interest. Spike at last turned towards me and with a twinkle in

his eye said, “No, but it doesn’t half make you feel better.  Give me half an hour, I’ll be OK”. I closed

the door quietly saying, “Take as long as you like we’ll be ready.”

True to his word, in half an hour he was

refreshed and ready to go.

We were doing a scene with Angus (an

‘extra’), who was meant to be the departing owner of the house. He was totally

in awe of Spike, and this was obviously his big moment, working with someone so

established in British show business. 

Unfortunately the occasion got the better of him and he struggled in his

big scene. All he was meant to do was enter the room and react to Spike who was

standing by a Mousses’ head with an “Aahh!” but he kept getting the emphasis

wrong. “Oohhh, Ouhh, aaaAAH”! All sorts of strangled noises came out. The more takes we

did the more he went to pieces. “For Gods’ sake get it right Angus,” cried

Spike, half in fun, half meaning it. 20 takes later Angus managed one that was

acceptable. We broke the set up and I sat with Spike as the crew set up for the

next scene. An ever so humble Angus came across with a well-thumbed paperback

book. It was one of Spikes about the Second World War. “Excuse me Spike,”

stuttered Angus, “would you mind signing my book?” Spike took the book and pen

and very slowly and deliberately wrote, To… Angus….  for… acting …3… out… of… 10! We all rocked

with laughter, even Angus. For the rest of the day Spike was the consummate

professional. I told him that Peter Sellars was my hero. “Oh but a difficult

man, a very difficult man” he said. The same could not be said of Spike.

The rumours were wrong. He didn’t suffer fools gladly, but difficult? No. He

was an absolute pleasure to work with.