Comedy veteran Roy Hudd has died. He was 83.
For many years Hudd presented the radio comedy show The News Huddlines (pictured) which gave countless breaks to new writers and performers.
He was also a straight actor and appeared as Archie Shuttleworth in Coronation Street and numerous plays and television programmes including Dennis Potter's Lipstick on your Collar and Karaoke and Ashes to Ashes.
His agent said: "We are sad to announce the passing of the much-loved and amazingly talented Roy Hudd OBE. After a short illness, Roy passed away peacefully on Sunday 15 March, with his wife Debbie at his side. The family would ask you to respect their privacy at this very sad time."
Hudd played Archie Shuttleworth in the ITV soap for several stints between 2002 and 2010.
In the 1990s, he won praise for his roles in Dennis Potter's Lipstick on your Collar and Karaoke.
Radio/TV producer Alan Nixon has passed on this amusing anecdote about Roy Hudd:
"One year, a recording of Radio 2’s long-running topical comedy show, The News Huddlines fell on April Fool’s Day. As it was always rehearsed on Thursday mornings, it was my duty, as Producer, to fashion a joke for our superbly talented cast - Alison Steadman, Chris Emmett and redoubtable front-man, the ebullient Roy Hudd.
Or even better fashion a joke on them.
Could we get something done by 12.00 o’clock – and would we record it?
The show usually contained two musical numbers often based on old Gilbert & Sullivan numbers, musical hall ditties, or anything over fifty years old. It saved any awkwardness over copywrite or indeed payment. Plus, Roy and company could sing them with ease.
One of the show’s lyric writers, Richard Quick, came up with a quirky song that didn’t scan and probably couldn’t be sung. Could we persuade our cast on this special day to get on the microphone and record it before they twigged? We duly headed to rehearse then record that April 1st show – with music and lyrics – and a spare song tucked in our pockets for safety.
The only people, aside from the writers, in on this joke were my PA, Janice Smyth, the Studio Managers, plus the very tall and affable leader of our underpopulated live band known as Pete Moss and the Huddliners.
Our usual procedure was to read-thru the sketches between 10.00 and 12.00 then getting ‘on mic’ about midday to first practice and ‘balance’ the two musical numbers. This being the case, the songs themselves were the last thing we read in that cramped ‘rehearsal room’ known as the Narrator Suite . This had been designed for one man resting but was crammed with three performers, a secretary and producer, usually laughing.
It was 1981 and the time of the Polish Solidarity movement so names like Lech Walesa and General Jaruzelski were often in the news. In fact, one of the cleverest puns ever delivered on The Huddlines that year, written by Martin (now Reverend) Booth, was the punchline to a short sketch which he climaxed with the words:
“Lech faced the music in Gdansk!”
It’s 11.45 and we have to rehearse that song. Will they realise?
When, Roy, Alison, and Chris saw the song “When Johnny Comes Marching Home Again” as the final number in their scripts they were not unduly concerned. Not even when the lyrics now read:
“When General Jaruzelski Comes Marching Home Again….”
Not only that, the usual chorus of “Hurrah! Hurrah!”
Was replaced by “Bucks Fizz! Bucks Fizz!”
Sure, a popular drink and Eurovision song winner that year but a wildly irreverent and irrelevant lyric.
The song carried on in nonsensical fashion Walesa, Gdansk, Solidarity. It took every ounce of my best poker face to encourage the cast and avoid my PA, Janice, whose face was glued resolutely downwards at her script.
As the team gamely struggled on singing - such faith in their production team – I was about to lose it when rescued by the tall presence of Pete Moss, filling the doorframe - his mop of curly hair touching the top.
‘Ready to go with the band?” he says.
‘I don’t think we’ll ever be ready,” says Roy.
“I think it’ll work in 4/4 time”, Pete replies.
“It’s not gonna work in 20/20 time!”, a laughing Roy retorts.
Then to our relief and amazement they go off to gather round the piano….
It’s 11.55.
We’re now in the Control Booth with these friendly BBC Studio Managers, Alick Hale-Munro,
Sue Templeman, and Colin Duff, primed to “get it on tape”. Everything was recorded on metallic twelve-inch reels full of quarter-inch brown tape.
The cast and band rehearse as we look down the graded row of red seats to the stage where Roy, who has the lead vocal, is standing by the piano desperately trying to get the words to fit the tune and encourage the others. Meanwhile, the drummer and bassist are hypnotised by their music stands. Pete Moss hides under his glasses and hair, glued to the keyboard.
Between giggles, I had enough strength to press the tannoy button and ask “Shall we try one on the microphones?” ‘Well, if you really must” says Roy, unsure but still game.
And they did. Roy, Alison and Chris manage to get through one dreadful verse and chorus before Roy twigged. He’d looked up at the control room behind the glass only to see heads bobbing up and in fits of hysterics.
‘You rotten, rotten bastards!” he declares as the tension releases and the band roar their joyous approval.
‘April Fool, Mr Hudd” I was able to splutter at last. Just on twelve o’clock.
Roy and company took it all in great spirit and it’s a tribute to their dedication that they were always happy to record whatever we asked. For many years later, whenever I met Roy the very mention of General Jaruzelski would provoke instantaneous bouts of laughter.
Bucks fizz. Bucks fizz, indeed.
Just one memory of the inimitable Mr Hudd.
There are so very many.
RIP Roy Hudd.
