I don't often review books on this blog but this was placed into my hands by its author and it's an astonishing piece of work ... well, maybe not that, precisely, but it's certainly rather surprising, to say the least.
It's true that Paul Makin's 90s Channel 4 sitcom Nightingales was deemed to have been remembered fondly enough to warrant its release on DVD some years ago. But as far as I know it has never been the subject of a dedicated book before, which makes the particular slant of Charles Hamm's Not About Nightingales, published on the 4th of July, all the odder.
You will search this tome in vain for behind-the-scenes stories about Robert Lindsay or David Threlfall's working relationship, or how James Ellis may have felt about sharing critical plaudits from Nancy Banks-Smith with comparative juveniles. Instead - rather as though this heavy (but very handsomely produced) volume was indeed a response to fans' earlier willingness to part with their cash for anything associated with the brand - Not About Nightingales focuses on the players of the many guest roles which dotted the two series of the late night sitcom, and the subsequent fortunes of those actors briefly in - but not, as it were, of - writer Paul Makin's fantastical world.
If we are to believe Mr Hamm's introduction, he got the idea for the book's theme when he happened to espy Philip McGough in a rerun of Inspector Morse on ITV 3; McGough, it will be remembered by aficianados, played a psychiatrist whose secret ambition was to teach a chicken to play the mouth organ, a feat triumphantly achieved at the end of the episode by a feather-spattered McGough (below).
Over the space of three years Hamm secured interviews with all those supporting actors who were willing to speak to him. The story of his efforts to break through the resistance of a few abstainers is given a substantial chapter of its own - and is, I have to say, at least as entertaining as the rather vague memories of some of the willing participants.
An odd pattern emerges as you read the book, however, though Mr Hamm doesn't comment on it, and may not even have noticed it. Generally speaking, the more successful the actor, whether before or after their Nightingales appearance, the more their corresponding success in retaining (and relating) memories associated with the show. Some actors less obviously overburdened with work seem barely able to recall the storyline of the episode in which they featured, or the role played by their character, whereas for many of those regularly subjected to "new sensations and ... new elations", as Neville Holder would put it, that one Nightingales appearance seems to stand out with particular vividness. It's an unexpected, but nonetheless potent, tribute to the unique quality of the show, brief as its run was.
And maybe that's the point of this book, whether or not it proves to be the surprise hit of the summer. Nightingales, even now, may be no more than a cult success, but there is plentiful evidence within these pages that those intimately involved seem to have known its worth - and if you are still reading this post odds are that you, too, are probably aware that this was no ordinary sitcom. And regardless of its commercial viability I must admit Mr Hamm has hit upon a neat idea for a book, even if the world hasn't yet been gifted with the proper, authorised account of the whole show which I argue is sorely needed - or, for that matter, an edition of Makin's scripts.
You may not be surprised to learn that Not About Nightingales has been self-published: the sitcom wasn't exactly a huge popular success, and I don't know how well the DVD sold, so it could be argued that such a book is the very definition of a niche product - especially when Robert Lindsay fans or devotees of Shameless will find almost nothing which caters to them here. Nor have I seen any publicity for it online so far, despite the imminent publication date, hence the hasty penning of this post; I was contacted directly by Mr Hamm through this blog because he had read and liked my short piece about Nightingales (readable here), and it seems that he is doing the same for all those who have written online pieces praising the show, electing to become his own postman for the delivery of his precious parcels. I met him briefly at my place of work, though he said he couldn't stop for much of a chat as he was on his way to distribute other copies around London to potential reviewers.
Well, I wish him the best of luck in what is undoubtedly a noble venture. And if you too want to read about what happened to Ian Sears (Eric the werewolf), Lia Williams (the furtive dispenser of seasonal allegories), Philip McGough and others, look no further. Some odd details emerge: most UK readers will know Jake Wood has become famous as a member of the Eastenders cast but it is bizarre to learn that he was in a Nick Grosso play at the Edinburgh Fringe entitled Killing Paul McCartney, playing the role of an old school comic ... it doesn't sound a million miles away from the world of Nightingales.
As no mainstream publisher picked this up I must warn the reader that although the volume certainly looks very appealing the text inside hasn't exactly been subbed to within an inch of its life; personally I'd have opted for a less lavish product and invested the savings in those services which seem inessential but can make such a difference to readers' perception of a book's worth. That said, the annoyance level as Mr Hamm's lively style grabs hold of you is slight: it's clear that this is no cynical cash-in but the work of an obvious lover of the show.
And even if the reader doesn't learn much about the driving force behind Nightingales, about writer Paul Makin's conscious intentions for the programme, say, or what Lindsay or Threlfall think of their achievement in retrospect (though I know the latter has recalled the programme with considerable affection elsewhere) the cumulative effect of the interviews with these lesser participants is to give a compelling picture of the highs and lows endemic in the life of a jobbing actor: with the possible exception of Ian Sears, who had more than one appearance in the show, this was simply a week's work, enjoyable as it may have been, and although most interviewees do praise the quality of the scripts, and the pleasure of the experience of working with director Tony Dow, there are places where you sense that some are gamely trying to summon up the level of detail which the author wants, and occasionally appear a little too ready to agree with whatever interpretation he is proposing.
But that sense of willingness is itself very touching: so many projects come to grief so why not wish this one well when its creator's heart is so obviously in the right place?
Links:
My earlier post about the show, entitled Ode to Nightingales, can be found here.
Not About Nightingales: Stories Behind the Cult C4 Sitcom by Charles will be available from July 4th from a well-known online retailer.
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