Good evening and welcome to Man to Man with Dean Learner.
As you can see, the bar is closed,
I've sent Satu, my primary partner, home.
Because tonight is a sad occasion, my would-be guest this evening,
Randolph Caer, the celebrated British character actor,
who starred in films as diverse as Bitch Killer
and That Duck 3: Duck In The City,
sadly died yesterday morning.
This show will be a celebration of his life through the eyes
of those who knew him best.
A kind of This Is Your Death.
Cheers, Randolph.
I'm afraid the following title sequence, under the circumstances,
may appear inappropriately jaunty.
'Live from his luxury penthouse apartment in London's glittering East End,
'Dean Learner, club owner,
'entrepreneur and publisher of high-class gentlemen's magazines
'invites you to join him for an exclusive Man to Man.'
Thank you. Out of respect to Randolph,
I'm cutting the monologue which would usually precede our interview.
However, there is one small bit of AOB which I am obliged to mention.
And that is that, for this month only, if you dine at my restaurant
Chez Deano's on any Tuesday
before 4pm and order a minimum of two starters, you will receive 30%
off a lap dance at Deano's Nightclub between the hours of 4am and 4.30am
on any subsequent Wednesday providing three or more magnums
of house champagne were purchased with that aforementioned meal.
After a career-defining performance as serial killer Sidney King
in the film Bitch Killer,
the actor Randolph Caer became something of a recluse, rarely giving interviews,
so it was a coup-and-a-half to have secured his appearance on this show.
His sudden death came as a huge shock to the production team,
especially as the statement of health form
clearly said he had no long-term degenerative illnesses.
He had been paid well in advance for his services.
I won't be getting that back.
Unless I sue his estate
and my lawyers have informed me that would probably cost me
as much as I'm able to claw back even though, legally, I have been misled.
Anyway, that's business and unimportant to me at present.
Tonight, I wish simply to present a petit l'histoire of this remarkable actor
who can never shake off the stigma of his most famous role.
My name is Sidney King. I hate a lot of things.
Fruits. Coloureds.
And, above all, women.
Goodbye, Mother!
Noooo!
I just get these terrible headaches.
'Bitch Killer.
'The deadliest, nastiest, sexiest film you'll see all year - coming soon.'
God, that film makes me horny.
Every time!
And by the way, that was me in my celebrated role as Rudy Ray Curtis,
the Mile End Mack Daddy.
But now to discuss Randolph's role in that film,
please welcome the author of the piece,
Romford's one-man fear factory, Mr Garth Marenghi.
Can I just say it's a sad day for the genre.
Randolph's flame burned brightly for the briefest of whiles,
and there ain't too many flames like that left.
Thanks for coming at such short notice.
- That's fine, here's my taxi receipt. - Leave that with me.
Incidentally, for those who are interested, the DVD of Bitch
hits the stores finally next month.
It's actually not a bad time for Randolph to go
because it does at least give us a decent press angle.
And journos are less likely to stick the boot in while he's still warm.
It wasn't a film that was kindly received, was it?
Look, when I wrote the film, um, I was very young, I was very angry,
at that stage I hadn't actually met a woman.
Since then, I've met several and, y'know, they're not bad.
But... the point is the critics hated it. I think they missed the poetry of the piece.
And I think they hated Randolph more, though.
I mean, they really tore him apart.
Ironically, no-one hated that film more than Randolph.
He tried to walk off the film. But I remember saying to him,
I warned him, I said, "This business is a jungle
"and if you start breaking contracts, the lions will eat you
"or shoot you in your bed as you sleep."
Anyway, let's have a look at what Randolph had to say, post-Bitch.
< You're odd looking, aren't you?
Yes, I suppose I am.
< And you always play these horrible characters.
It's not really by choice.
Um, as I say, that particular film is not one I'm personally proud of.
< Well you oughtn't be, it's horrible.
I know. And I very much regret making it.
< Well, you did make it.
There aren't many parts around for someone
who looks like me, shall we say.
< It's a horrible film.
I know.
< You're horrible in it,
< and I find it horrible looking at you right now.
I wish I hadn't made it.
< Who is the real Randolph Caer?
< Someone who flashes at women who he has no hope of wooing?
No, I've never done that.
< But you have been tempted?
No.
< You talk like a flasher.
< You're bald and unkempt, it looks like you soiled your trousers.
I'm actually very happily married.
< But for how long? Randolph Caer, thank you very much.
I mean, it's so hard to believe that in that interview,
Randolph was just 22 years old of age.
And as you can see from that, he was sullen, bad-tempered, self-pitying,
difficult and, above all, disloyal.
I have to say I hated him.
I'm probably the wrong person to be up here singing his praises, actually.
He was a fine actor, I can say that much.
Well, I'm sure he'd appreciate that compliment. Garth Marenghi, thank you very much.
Thank you.
Randolph found it increasingly hard to find the roles he wanted.
Desperate for money, he agreed to star in the bawdy comedy romp
about a short-sighted vicar and his busty church organist called...
Test screenings, however, did not go well and the decision was made
to hire body doubles
and insert several scenes of hardcore penetrative sex.
As executive producer of that film, it's a move I bitterly regret,
but my duty was with the public and not with Randolph or his family.
The subsequent break-up of his marriage
was something I hoped to discuss with him tonight.
I was hoping I could make him break down a bit,
showing he had a human side, but, alas and alack, he ain't coming back.
With his ungodly looks,
he understandably began to receive regular beatings on the street.
Beatings that I regret watching.
And, on occasion, cheering on.
Indeed, Randolph's agent would often be called out
in the middle of the night to retrieve him from skips.
One man who knew him very well during the skip years was the actor Glynn Nimron.
Glynn is currently recuperating in a Hawaiian hospital
having been set on fire during a previous episode of this show.
And earlier today, we managed to link him up via satellite.
Can you hear me, Glynn Nimron?
Hello, Dean, yes I can hear you.
And I've just heard the tragic news and can I say sincerely how sad I am.
He was like a flame in the night burning brightly
and there aren't too many flames like that left!
What were your memories...
I have many memories of Randolph... Sorry.
Sorry, what were your memories of Randolph...
I have many memories of... Sorry...
Sorry, I think there's a time delay...
I think there's a delay here...
Yeah, I know that, I was trying to say...
You probably figured that out... Yes.
- Wait until you hear my next question. - I'll just wait until...
Sorry, Dean, I didn't catch that.
Wait... until... you hear... my next... question!
Sure, OK.
What were your memories of Randolph?
Yes, I have many wonderful memories of Randolph.
What are they?
Well, the last time I worked with him was on a very, very funny comedy film
called That Duck 5: Duck In The Hood.
Was that the one with the Rastafarian duck?
He was a funny duck. "Quack! Quack! Yeh, mon", paddling about. Oh, he was good.
Yes.
Yes. Yes, that was the one, but you know what, Dean,
Randolph did not like the script.
- Right... - So I'm afraid to say on that particular project,
I had him fired!
All right, well, we'll call it a day there, Glynn.
- Unless we can... - Yep. Call it a day.
- Sorry? - Thank you.
Thank you, Dean.
Glynn Nimron there.
Unemployable, divorced and growing uglier by the day,
Randolph made a final bid for respectability
in the made-for-television movie, Brosroads: The Story Of Bros.
Two brothers joined in love and hate, in which he played
the duelling siblings' irate father.
What?!
You ungrateful louts!
I've washed you, clothed you,
put a roof over your heads, bought you that pair of drumsticks,
bought you that microphone, and what do I get in return?
Don't you dare disrespect me!
You two owe me everything!
- I owe you nothing, yeah? - Nothing at all!
The film received terrible reviews despite being, in my view,
the best work of Randolph's career. Worse was to come, though.
The next ten years would prove a painful story of loneliness,
heartbreak and alienation. Join us after the break!
Welcome back to Man to Man With Dean Learner.
We're talking tonight about, not with, the actor Randolph Caer,
who died yesterday morning at home on his Jack Jones.
One man who knew this now dead actor
was former Formula Five world champion Steve Pieing,
who has very kindly agreed to join me on the horn.
Can you hear me, Steve Pieing?
'Hello, Dean. Yes, I can hear you.
'Can I just say it's terrible news about Randolph
'and that on the great race track of life, no-one left a bigger skid mark.'
You and Randolph were next-door neighbours for a few years,
weren't you?
'That's right, Dean, but for a shot in, he was a noisy old so-and-so.'
So you didn't get on.
'I'm not saying we didn't get on, I'm not saying we did get on.
'What I am saying is my wife Marie is a very light sleeper,
'so the sound of Randolph's sobbing self-pity coming through the walls
'at all hours of the early evening was something I felt required actioning,
'because Marie and I were trying for a baby and frankly,
'she was so tense it was putting me off my stroke.
'I couldn't get a rhythm up at all, Dean.
I tried putting on a drum machine through the midi hi-fi
'but Randolph's wailing and endless self-recrimination meant
'more often than not, I couldn't complete.
'Not even...
'Not even on bossa nova.
'I said, "Marie, nothing's gonna come out till that man goes."
"Marie hit on the idea of mental torture.
'I said, "OK, I'll give it a go."
'After two years, he finally broke down and moved,
'which was a relief for all concerned.
'But...
'then a Bulgarian family moved in
'and it was bloody accordion playing all night.
'I said, "You've got to be joking me!
"I can't get up a stroke with this kind of Balkan rhythm
going on all night."
All right, Steve. We've got to go. OK.
'OK, Dean, thank you.
"And can I say you're doing a wonderful job with the tribute.
'I wish you the best of luck with the rest of it."
Thank you very much. No-one has actually taken the time out to say that.
And it does take a lot of out of me, shouldering this testimonial.
In many ways, it's harder for the people who are left behind.
I just hope if Randolph is watching from up there,
he appreciates all of this hard work.
Randolph's work was not appreciated, however...
You see, these links don't write themselves.
It's all dovetailed together.
Randolph's work was not appreciated when he made a brief appearance
on the long-running children's television show A Tale At Bedtime.
Let's see for why.
Hello. Today I'm going to tell you a story which I wrote for my own little boy, Charlie.
And Charlie, if you're watching, I hope you enjoy it.
The House For Nobody.
Once upon a time, in the forest, there lived a woodcutter called Randall,
who spent all of the days he had left chopping wood from a large, old tree.
"Why do you keep chopping me?"
Asked the tree one day, when it realised it was close to death.
Randall held his axe aloft but for once, did not strike.
"I know you are building a house for your family," the tree continued,
"but how can you expect them to live in it when you don't know where they are?
"Those little beds for your children are old and useless.
"You're building a house for nobody."
Randall sighed,
recalling that his family had indeed left him many, many years ago.
"I'm the one friend you have left," said the tree.
"If you kill me, you will be completely alone."
Wiping a tear from his eye,
Randall put down his axe and slumped to the floor.
He began to feel very tired.
Leaning back to rest against the tree, he jumped up suddenly
at an almighty cracking sound,
which shook the depths of the forest.
Looking behind him, his face grew long and sad.
The tree was dead after all.
Picking up his axe once more, Randall began work on his house
for nobody.
By this stage, Randolph was persona non gratis.
But one person who did stand by him was celebrity psychic Amir Chanan,
who has very kindly rushed here,
straight from the set of his workout video, to pay tribute.
So please welcome Amir Chanan.
Hello, Dean.
Hello, Amir. Why the balloons?
Because tonight, Dean, it's a celebration.
A celebration of greatness.
A great man, an OK actor and a great friend.
Whenever I met with Randolph, I always took him some balloons.
He loved balloons.
And I think if more people had given him balloons,
then maybe he'd still be here today, holding my balloons.
Sure, but they are obscuring my close-up. Can we get rid of them?
Stu, can we strike the balloonage?
Just go and distribute these amongst the poor.
- Actually, Amir, do you mind if I pop one? - OK, just one.
Hey!
Sorry.
You know... >
When Randolph first came to me, he was very depressed...
Hey, fun, isn't it? Sorry.
We were talking about depression.
A lot of people were saying very horrible things about him
and I'm here tonight to show you that he was a good man.
He was not a monster.
He was not a child catcher.
I tell you what I am going to do.
I'm going to prove this tonight by speaking to him here and now.
Right. You do know he's dead, don't you?
Yes. But I'm going to talk to him from beyond the grave.
OK, Randolph, the channel is open.
You can speak to us.
Now.
Randolph.
OK, screw you, Randolph.
Thanks a million, I don't think.
I have done so much for you and this is how you treat me.
I have held your hand, caressed you in the dark,
boosted your confidence, solved your odour problems
by giving you my Amir's Hello Motivation, Goodbye Perspiration mind kit
for the reduced price of £12.95
and in return, you make me look like an ass handler on national TV.
So I retract all the good things I've said about you.
You are bald, you are ugly, and you do smell like a zoo animal.
Thanks very much, Amir.
Thank you, Dean.
Now, some years back I was asked to take part
in a television documentary series about successful businessmen
working in the entertainment industry.
And it is an industry. However, to my chagrin, the journalist revealed herself
to be a rather pushy, opinionated, documentarian
who took issue with my lifestyle and the sexual freedoms I've enjoyed throughout my life,
and, indeed, continue to enjoy on a thrice nightly basis.
The doc was very damaging on a personal level.
And I wouldn't play it again but for the fact that it contains
the last known footage of Randolph Caer.
But as you watch it, remember to ignore the narrator's asinine comments,
because she obviously had her own agenda.
If there's one thing I can't stand, it's people who sit in judgment over others.
"Today, Dean is organising a celebrity fundraiser
'to promote awareness of sexual health.
"Dean is calling the event a Crab Ball and holds a meeting to discuss his plans.'
Lovely.
This is the invite.
- Take one, pass it on. - Thank you.
Um... yes, I like it.
I think it's a very striking image, but what it doesn't say for me
is that there definitely will be pole dancing.
There was one thing I actually wanted to discuss with you.
Yes. >
That was the inclusion of the...
anal swabs and condoms in the seafood gift bag.
I was wondering if it might be possible to have a separate gift bag
for perhaps the seafood.
There's no sexually transmitted disease in the gift bag.
I think that all Graham is voicing is the concern
that perhaps celebrities are quite specific
- about what they want to be associated with. - That's what they're called.
I think it's just because it's not a life-threatening disease.
It's an irritant, though.
I don't know if you've had it, but you'll know about it.
- I think that's a little rude to ask, actually. - It wasn't a question.
I said, "I don't know if you've had it."
No, and why would you? And just to say that celebrities...
Well, I might have heard on the grapevine. It gets round.
I don't think you're going to get the kind of people that you want
to turn up to an STD party.
It's a Crab Ball, Vicky. Well, he's got it, he's got it,
she's got it, he's had it.
Those two have got it.
And if those two have got it, everyone from here...
...to here will have it. I know that as a fact.
So I expect a full plate of RSVPs.
With respect, Dean, I just feel that...
You keep saying "with respect” but I don't get any respect, Graham.
You're the fucking seafood platter designer.
- Don't twist my words, Graham. - I'm not...
I'm not up in fucking court. That's next week. I'll sort this out myself.
Get out. Yes, cancel their car.
Not much of a turnout, is there, Dean?
No, give it time.
All right, Spence.
The problem is, at this rate,
it looks like we're going to have to invoice the charity.
'One celebrity did turn up, but this particular visitor
'wasn't on the guest list.'
- Hello, Randolph. How are you? - Get your hands off my suit.
You didn't RSVP.
< What's my face doing on these posters?
'In accordance with his wishes,
'we kept our camera off Randolph as much as possible.'
The whole idea of it is that you look like the kind of person
who might have crabs, but you don't.
- Get off me. - I pay the photographer, I am the image.
< If you touch me one more time, I will call the police.
Touch him, Lewis. There we go. >
- Randolph, you're embarrassing yourself. - That is assault.
- It's not assault, Randolph. It's lawful restraint. - Take it down, Dean.
Randolph, is this about money?
Is this about money, Randolph?
Cos this is sordid. What do you want? 807
All right, I'll make it a ton.
< How dare you.
A ton 20, a ton 40.
What about a ton 607
A ton 807 And two ton??
What about that? Why don't you take it? Just get out.
He's crying. You've made him cry. >
I've not made him cry.
Well, he is crying. >
Here come the waterworks.
Here it comes.
Here comes the rain.
I'm trying to have a fun evening, Randolph.
I've got seafood, Maxine is here, Satu is here. We're having a party.
Pick him up and get rid of him.
He's a funny one, isn't he?
He can't genuinely think, "Oh, I'm a handsome man."
He's raving, he's mad.
- He's butt-ugly, am I wrong? - No, you're right.
He's very ugly.
< Why did you give him money?
I just thought he could do with a few quid. He looks brassy.
Out of the goodness of my heart, you know?
Just like I always give, you know...
- Thank you. - There you go.
- Thanks. - Thank you.
There you go.
I give people money all the time. It's not a big deal.
Lewis.
Don't break him.
Give us a call, Randolph. We'll sort this out.
I don't want this to end like this.
Al right.
I guess to sum up,
Randolph was a great talent, whose ego simply got the better of him.
Like Icarus, he flew straight into the moon. It's a lesson to us all.
If we can learn anything from his death, it's to stay in the box society puts you in.
If only he'd made Bitch Killer 11 as instructed,
perhaps his life wouldn't have been such a wasted journey.
All that remains for me to do
is to thank all of my super guests for talking to me, Man to Man,
and to thank you very much for watching. Thank you very much.
We'll play out now with one of my favourite moments
from Randolph's rich oeuvre.
Ah ha ha! Ah ha ha!
No! No!
Come on, you bitch!