Steptoe and Son Sensation

Harry H. Corbett - The Front Legs of the Cow

Susannah Corbett’s biographical account of her father’s rise to stardom is out today. Susannah’s Harry H. Corbett – The Front Legs of the Cow has already featured in The Observer and The Guardian, tracing the story of the double act duo Steptoe and Son. Susannah is also attending a series of radio interviews with the BBC on various regional shows and is to be interviewed by The Daily Mail this Wednesday. The Independent headlined the article as simply…

…“At Long Last, the tale of Steptoe and daughter”.

Click here for The Independent full article online.

Click here for the Guardian/Observer full article online.

Or see the full articles below.

The Guardian/Observer:

It was the perfect sitcom partnership, a marriage of love and loathing. But the stormy real-life relationship between Harry H Corbett and Wilfrid Brambell, stars of Steptoe and Son, has only now been fully documented, in a biography of her father by actress Susannah Corbett.Herself a star of long-running TV hits, including Dalziel and Pascoe and Peak Practice, Corbett is uniquely placed to describe the tension and the grudging admiration between the two men.From 1962 to 1974, Steptoe drew audiences of 20 million and more. Brambell, who was the wily, dirty-minded, jealous old rag-and-bone man, and Corbett, who played the unmarried, hapless son trapped by his own forlorn dreams, were among the best-known stars on TV.When the series ended, both actors found that they, like their characters, were trapped together, with the public unwilling to accept them in other roles. When Corbett died from heart disease in 1982, aged just 57, a second Steptoe stage tour of Australia was being planned. That will come as news to the show’s fans: most believed the pairing was shattered by Brambell’s outrageous behaviour on their previous tour. A 2002 documentary, When Steptoe Met Son, claimed that Corbett was so disgusted by his partner’s drunken antics that he vowed never to share a taxi with him again, let alone an international tour.But Susannah, who joined them in Australia as a child of nine in 1977, saw the crisis unfold at first hand. She believes it was her mother, Maureen Corbett, who kept the show on the road: “Willie was very prickly, and my mother was good at dealing with that. He liked her very much and came to rely on her.”Maureen, who died in 1999, filmed much of the Australian and New Zealand tour and described in letters how she smoothed the partnership: “If Wilfrid hadn’t had a terribly good night, he used to bite everybody’s head off. So they used to send me along and I’d knock on the door – ‘Oh right, darling, I’ll be with you in a minute’. One day we thought he was having a heart attack; in fact, it was too many gins.” In Christchurch, Brambell risked deportation, arriving drunk for a live TV interview and saying: “I hope your fucking cathedral falls down.”Corbett had to improvise the show on his own one night, after Brambell didn’t turn up. He was eventually found, sitting down to a roast beef dinner in his stage clothes, at a friend’s house, insistent that he would not work that evening. On another occasion he almost killed a woman from the audience who was trying drunkenly to climb on to the stage – Wilfrid booted her back into the stalls. When the woman reeled backstage to protest, it was Maureen, just 5ft tall, who fended her off in a Rada voice: “How dare you use such language in front of my daughter!” Susannah notes in the biography: “I’d heard far worse at home.”Unlike his screen character, Brambell was a dapper man. Writer Ray Galton, half of the Galton & Simpson team that created Steptoe, tells how Brambell was once refused entrance to the BBC club for being too well dressed.Harry H Corbett was a graduate of Joan Littlewood’s Theatre Workshop, the leftwing school of method acting. The 50s firebrand had been brought up in deep poverty by an aunt in Manchester, after his mother Caroline died from dysentery in Burma when he was a toddler. He served during the second world war with the Royal Marines – fighting hand-to-hand in New Guinea against the Japanese. Years later he spoke of his worst experiences only once, not to Susannah but to her brother Jonathan: “It’s not the kind of thing you tell your little girl.” He had to kill two of the enemy – “one with a bayonet and one with a commando knife, looking the guy in the eyes as they glazed over, knowing he was the last thing the poor little bastard saw.”When hostilities were over, Corbett jumped ship rather than join a working party to Tonga. He stayed on the run for 20 days, living off money won with card tricks on Sydney docks and spending his nights in the red-light district, before handing himself in to the military police. “Harry was never into acting macho,” his daughter says, “he just was macho.”

The Independent:

At long last, the tale of Steptoe and daughter Susannah Corbett has written a revealing biography of her father

For those who only ever saw him as Harold Steptoe, the rag-and-bone man trapped in a stifling relationship with his “dirty old man” of a father, Albert (Wilfrid Brambell), it might seem unlikely that Harry H Corbett was once a highly regarded “method” actor described as “a British Marlon Brando”.As part of the legendary Joan Littlewood’s troupe, and in various other plays and British films of the 1950s, Corbett – who died in 1982 at 57 – seemed destined join Richard Harris and Stanley Baker as one of the new breed of working-class leading men.”He was well known and respected within the industry”, says his daughter Susannah Corbett, an actress herself as well as a children’s author – and now her father’s biographer. Amazingly, Harry H Corbett: The Front Legs of the Cow (the title refers to Corbett’s first starring role) is the first biography of an actor whose tragi-comic ” ‘Arold” – the original 40-year-old virgin, and dubbed “the working-class Hamlet” – once drew a weekly audience of 28 million viewers.”I’ve been approached before and they approached Mum but we never felt the need”, says Corbett, whose mother, Maureen, died in 1999. “She never spoke about him publicly after his death… because she always said that the work should speak for itself”.What changed her attitude were two programmes: a Channel 4 documentary, When Steptoe Met Son, which claimed that Corbett and a booze-sodden Wilfrid Brambell hated each other; and a BBC4 biopic, The Curse of Steptoe, that suggested that Corbett was angst-ridden by his typecasting as Harold. Worse, says Susannah Corbett, was the assertion that her mother was responsible for the break-up of Corbett’s first marriage.”You can say what you like about his career”, she says, “but I took exception to the portrayals of his personal life. I didn’t particularly feel it was a balanced view of their life and nor did an awful lot of the people I spoke to when I started interviewing them for my book”.Corbett complained, finally receiving an apology from the BBC Trust, and the promise not to re-broadcast it without the necessary cuts, and to withdraw the DVD from sale. But in the meantime, Curse of Steptoe won a Royal Television Society Award, and Jason Isaacs was nominated for a Bafta for his portrayal of Corbett.”They changed the rules on making biopics after we complained. It took three years but they apologised. But I don’t want that to be the only word on him.”Her book follows Harry H Corbett (the ‘H’ was added to differentiate him from the children’s entertainer and Sooty manipulator of the same name) from the slums of Manchester, through wartime action with the Royal Marines – including hand-to-hand combat in the jungle and witnessing the devastation at Hiroshima – to becoming a leading light in Littlewood’s Theatre Workshop. And it was Littlewood’s obituary of her father that Corbett believes created the myth that he felt trapped by the role of Harold Steptoe. “So many of my old company”, wrote Littlewood, “so many beautiful clowns type-cast in their dull brothel, the endless repetition of the act, the spurious success which kills”.” ‘Dull brothel’… wasn’t that great?”, laughs Corbett, who remembers the playful family man and brilliant bedtime storyteller who died when she was just 14. “Part of me thinks my parents would be rolling in their graves at the thought of my book”, she says, “another part thinks it was the right thing to do – these are my parents and I loved them and a lot of people will understand that I shouldn’t let that lie”.