Porridge contains all the essential ingredients
needed to make a classic comedy.
Take a loveable rogue, pair him with a naive new inmate,
then add a hard-nosed prison officer. The result?
A sitcom which dared to go where no other sitcom had gone before...
..prison.
You see those flasks over there? I want you to fill one for me.
What, from here?
It's 40 years since we enjoyed our first taste of Porridge.
Set in Slade Prison, it brought together the comic talents
of Ronnie Barker and Richard Beckinsale.
Large one, sir? Mind your own business. Very good.
With plots revolving around getting one over on the screws.
Now what's going on here?
Just adjusting the television, Mr Mackay.
And avoiding grief from the menacing top dog.
MUSIC: "The Archers Theme Tune"
It is the ultimate us versus them comedy.
He just became a vegetable. An incoherent non-thinking zombie.
What became of him? He joined the prison service as a warden.
Porridge was immediately a sort of favourite and a classic
as soon as it came out. People fell in love with it instantly.
It's still live and vibrant and those performances
and those situations are still funny, they don't stop being funny.
Here we are 40 years later. 40 years later,
talking about the fact that this was a great, great TV series.
Far from being confined in one place,
the story of Porridge stretches far and wide.
From the Welsh valleys to the Geordie shores,
Notting Hill to the Hollywood Hills.
In this definitive series,
we get the inside stories from the men who created it.
Britain's most celebrated comedy-writing duo,
Dick Clement and Ian La Frenais.
There's a lady behind you taking a photograph of us.
She thinks they're remaking Starsky and Hutch.
Absolutely. Whom we so closely resemble.
We hear firsthand the secrets behind those iconic scripts.
It was the biggest challenge for us to write
because it's getting to the essence of what the series is about.
What are you going to call your book, Fletcher?
Don't Let The Bastards Grind You Down, sir.
And discover what life was really like inside sitcom's only slammer.
Take one.
There was an internal chemistry, which was very enjoyable
because everybody was really enjoying what they were doing.
I was the first one here today. 7:30. I was here before the cleaners.
This is the complete story
of how a comedy went behind bars just for laughs.
You can't beat the system, Mr Barraclough.
Tonight, Dick and Ian take us back
to where it all began and the moment two unlikely lads
took their first taste of Porridge.
LAUGHS
We were quite worried about it but we reminded ourselves
it was going to be Ronnie Barker in this, so that felt reassuring.
We trace the roots of Porridge
and take a road trip to locations used in the rarely seen pilot.
This is where Norman Stanley Fletcher
quite literally took the wee-wee.
Plus, reveal recordings
which have never been broadcast on TV until now.
Right, this is Fletcher's script, part one.
Come with me, Harris!
But before all that, let's take a moment to look back
at Dick and Ian's most celebrated comic creation,
Norman Stanley Fletcher.
Huh, could you Adam and Eve it?
Go to jail.
I still, to this day, find myself, I always repeat one line from it.
I mean, that's like...
LAUGHS
Lovely. Look at that. Oh!
Norman Stanley Fletcher, ducker and diver.
He's a loveable rogue, I suppose.
"I wish you was here. Oh, well, I must close now and get on my lover."
No.
"I must close now and get on, my lover." See?
Sort of, not really a criminal so much as he's sort of a career man
whose career happens to be burglary, you know.
And again, there's something, you know, quite affectionate about that.
I don't know quite how to put this, gentlemen,
but there is a thief among us.
We've always liked characters who stick two fingers up to authority.
And he has a great way of doing that.
We do love him and that's the genius
of the writing and Ronnie's performance, really.
From the moment he first appeared on our screens,
Fletcher stole the show.
This cynical, self-centred old scoundrel
was Ronnie Barker at his finest.
Balls, Mr Mackay.
Why the different sizes? That's life, sir.
It was very, sort of, him. Just this, like, kind of naff
kind of cockney voice and the ducking and diving villain.
I mean, he always looked so comfortable in it.
He would absolutely be upset if I called him a comedian.
He's not a comedian, he's a comedic actor.
Alright, Fletcher, just don't let me catch you thieving, that's all.
I won't. You won't what?
I won't let you catch me, Mr Mackay.
You know he's always on the con. That's what's so super about it.
He's always, you know... It's only himself that matters.
But he has generosity and kindness, which is also very sweet.
I mean, it's a lovely rounded character.
I'm not here to be cajoled or coerced into doing what you want,
whenever you want it. Oh, Mr Barraclough,
of course you're not. I mean, would I ever?
Well, as long as that's clearly understood then. Yes.
He knows how to manipulate the system.
He knows, you know, he knows the weak spots of the other characters. He knows how to prey on them.
He knows not to mess with the people he shouldn't mess with.
So he's a great barometer of human life.
There's no doubt that Fletch is the original king of spin.
We asked the writers Dick Clement and Ian La Frenais
to choose a classic scene that sums up Fletcher's
selfish, scheming, double-dealing ways.
FLETCHER: Is it worth it? GODBER: How do you mean. FLETCHER: I mean, is it worth it?
All these pull-ups and press-ups and deep-breathing exercises.
All this weightlifting. I mean, it's a bit daft, innit? Eh?
I mean, it's all punishment, innit?
"Well, it's for the boxing Fletch." "Yeah, I know, I know."
Well, it's a classic prison situation. Fletcher has to persuade,
you know, the innocent, guileless Godber
to do something which is extremely immoral.
"You want some snout?" "No, thanks, better not." "All right."
Suit yourself. That reminds me, I've got some of your favourite chocolate.
"Look at that. Fruit & Nut. There you are."
It's transparent what he's doing with the chocolate and snout and everything.
"Well, thanks very much, Fletch. That's very kind of you."
"I'll save it till after the fight."
Fletcher, he's been manipulated with force, so he has to do this.
"Well, they was wondering you, see..."
Well, they was insisting...
He's thinking of his own survival. He's going to get skinned.
He's going to lose his balls
if he doesn't get the kid to agree to this.
"What is it you're trying to say, Fletch?"
Tomorrow night ain't going to be your night, Lenny.
"How?"
"Big Grouty wants you to take a dive in the second."
I can't do that, Fletcher. I know. I know that. I know that.
"I respect you for that." And when he turns him down,
he respects him.
And then when he explains why,
then Fletcher becomes the one who's morally offended.
"Well, then why can't you do it?"
For me?
I've already promised Billy Moffett that I'd go down in the first.
Look what Ronnie does with that.
Nobody was better than Ronnie at taking a moment like that
and using the audience to tell him how long to play it.
I mean, in that respect, I've never seen anybody better.
You promised Billy Moffett?! Keep your voice down!
Well, he's been out-manoeuvred, so he's furious
that he's been out-manoeuvred, which is wonderful.
There's a marvellous arc to the scene, which I just love.
"It's the easy way out! No skin off my nose."
It's me that's going to get skinned, mate. And not off me nose, either!
BOTH LAUGH
I think we went to a bistro in South Ken afterwards. The whole cast.
I just remember that night
and the hangover the next morning.
Coming up, we look at how Dick and Ian
were promoted to the premier league of comedy.
There was a decision made to do seven different
half hours with Ronnie Barker.
They asked us to write two, which was very nice.
We were sort of on the A-list now.
Cobblers.
And discover what makes these teammates tick.
They've got this formula and nobody should mess with it.
It's about the sex-starved lady pygmies
of the southern Malaysian desert.
What's it called? Little Women.
40 years after the success of Porridge,
writers Dick Clement and Ian La Frenais
are now firmly established in Hollywood.
With a string of projects on the go, the pair are as busy as ever.
I just had this thought overnight about the documentary.
When we start the music section,
that bit after the Beatles, remind me what that is.
We had the Beatles in Washington. "Please Please Me", if you remember.
And we... PHONE RINGS Sorry, hang on. Hello?
Spielberg. Tell him to go away, we're busy.
It's not a good moment, sorry.
Two choc ices, please.
I think they're very great writers.
I think that their writing is as good as it gets.
They've done some of the greatest comedies
that have ever been seen on British television.
Boasting a bulging back catalogue of classic comedy,
Clement and La Frenais can rightfully stake claim
to being the best comedy writers Britain has ever produced.
I remember, I poured a bowl of pink blancmange
down Deirdre Birchwood's brassiere. Do you remember?
I remember. Me hand was down there at the time.
I think the great thing that Dick and Ian did on television,
was they connected with people like me.
And it felt like they were speaking to me
because they put me in the characters' shoes.
I think they're really in touch with how,
for want of a better phrase, the common man speaks.
The Irish are the blacks of Europe
and Dubliners are the blacks of Ireland.
So say it once, say it loud,
I'm black and I'm proud.
Dick and Ian write dramatic situations
out of which comes comedy,
rather than looking for the comedy and then writing the script.
Do you want to kick his goolies, pommie? Argh!
Oh, no, I never hit a man when somebody else can do it better.
Oh! Ooh! Argh! Ugh!
Ian and Dick are the masters of creating
huge comedy from people in confined spaces.
Porridge was a classic trapped situation.
The Likely Lads were trapped in their situation.
Auf Wiedersehen, Pet,
all that gang were trapped in various ways.
The situations they've created, like the hut in Auf Wiedersehen, Pet.
That sort of claustrophobia, again,
lends itself fantastically to a situation comedy.
I'm not here because I like it, Oz.
Some of us, like me and Dennis,
we're only going through this because we've got a purpose.
I thought you had a wife. I didn't realise you had a porpoise. What do you feed it on?
To trace the origins of Porridge, we need to go way back to 1964
to a backstreet pub in London's fashionable Notting Hill.
And the moment an ambitious BBC trainee
met an out-of-work market researcher
fresh off the train from Newcastle.
I remember him mainly because he was a bit smart and he was very tall.
He looked taller because he wore a very long coat
and he had a Lambretta or was it a...? No, it was a Lambretta.
And it is impossible for a tall man to look cool on a Lambretta.
Perfectly true. It's a well-known fact.
I think you can look cool on a Lambretta maybe if you're in Rome,
you know, with a pretty girl on the back.
That would look cool, you know. But... But you weren't.
No. I wasn't in Rome and I didn't have a pretty girl on the back
and so it wasn't... it wasn't my coolest phase, it has to be said.
We just came together because Dick, he was in an amateur review,
and what happened was Dick and I ended up writing something together.
Sketches, just a little review.
But it started that kind of relationship between us.
I was working at the BBC. When I got a chance to direct this test piece,
I said to Ian, I said, "Look, we can get this made."
And so we expanded it to 25 minutes.
It had only been about 10 minutes before, so we....
But that became The Likely Lads, actually.
A decade before sending comedy to prison,
Dick and Ian took it somewhere equally scary.
The working-class stronghold of northern England.
I was a teenager when The Likely Lads came on
and because it was set in the North East,
I can't think of anything really that had been North East before,
but we watched it for that reason.
19 and threepence for one round. Look, Bob, we've got to watch it.
It'll be all right. It won't be all right.
Not with the drinks they're having. What about this? Look at it.
It's like an allotment.
Seeing a show with those accents in
made you realise that you didn't have to sound like a BBC newsreader
and that's what made me want to be an actor, really.
By the cringe, I haven't half spent some bloody money tonight.
We both shared one thing in common. We both loved
all these new-wave movies that were coming out.
Saturday Night And Sunday Morning. Albert Finney. They were all our generation.
We were so excited about seeing this kind of working-class movie.
Don't let the bastards grind you down, that's one thing I've learned.
It was a whole new part of Britain
that was getting its attention for the first time.
So we wanted to jump on that bandwagon
but use it with comedy as opposed to drama, you know.
All right, but it's just as well to have a bit on you for emergencies.
Emergencies? If I spend more than ten quid on a woman
it'd be a bloody catastrophe.
Watched by 27 million viewers, that was half the population,
The Likely Lads turned Bob and Terry into national icons,
spawned even more successful sequel,
before leaping to the big screen.
It was after two series and a movie
when I changed my passport from "student" to "writer".
You had to put a profession in those days in your passport.
You still do on an immigration form when you come into the UK.
Nobody puts "drug dealer", do they? Very few.
By 1973, Dick and Ian were hoovering up hit after hit.
So when the BBC were looking for the cream of comedy writing talent
to whip up a new series for their latest star,
the boys were top of the list.
There was a decision made to do seven different half hours
with Ronnie Barker. I guess the BBC were thinking
at least one or two of these would turn into series.
I'm sure that was the theory. They asked us to write two,
which was very nice. It was nice to be on that list.
The BBC realising they'd got a master character actor on the books,
decided they would do seven one-off pilots all starring him.
Ronnie Barker was, in 1974, was a big star
because, of course, the Two Ronnies.
The Two Ronnies were absolutely Saturday night family-time watching
and the BBC obviously knew his capability
because he was such a good comedy actor.
Hello, Spotty. Oh, darling Magnus.
LAUGHS Mwah!
There's not a spot on her face. Who mentioned her face?
Regularly attracting over 20 million viewers,
the two Ronnies were kings of Saturday night TV.
Ronnie taught me the business about voices and accents
and character playing and I taught him a bit about vaudeville
and putting on ladies' dresses and things.
So we came together and made more complete performers of each other.
At the same time as getting on very well as friends, you know.
Now who's this silly arse with an ugly daughter?
I beg your pardon?
I said, would you kindly pass the jug of water?
What I've always wanted to achieve is to become somebody else
and Ronnie, despite the fact that maybe he looked like himself,
he was just brilliant at it.
Just becoming a different person.
Seven Of One gave Ronnie the perfect opportunity to become
seven different characters in seven different situations.
Oh, gawd!
Dick and Ian's first focused on a Welsh gambling family
who would have a flutter on absolutely anything.
No, no. It's my dad, see. Oh, I'm sorry, is it serious?
Oh, yes. He's fading fast. I was saying to Mortlake only this morning,
I bet a fiver he doesn't last the week.
It was based on a quote I saw in an article in the Guardian.
And it was an article about an old man on his deathbed,
he was very contrite about the fact that he'd caused his family
an enormous amount of suffering over the years because of his gambling.
And he'd confessed this to the local priest.
When I get up to heaven, when I go with the angels, like,
will I have wings, like?
Yes, yes. I'm sure you will, Mr Owen.
And when you get up there too, will you have wings and all?
Well, I hope so.
I'll fly you for a quid, then.
So when the grandfather dies,
they knew that in his possession was a winning betting slip.
The whole dilemma of trying to recapture this ticket,
which they're convinced, is clasped in his fist when he died. It's in the coffin.
So they then had to open the coffin and try and find it.
And they feel... And all the guilt they feel.
Here we are, look, tell you what, a petal at a time
and the one left with the last petal can have it.
Why did we make it Welsh, I wonder? Um...
I suppose it was because they thought, "They'll do another northern thing". Yeah.
I like the Welsh family. I like the daughter. She was very sexy and she
was a beauty queen. She'd been runner-up
in the Miss South Wales Water Board.
I'll put your tea down here, Mr Pugh, OK?
COUGHS Oh!
Thank you. You all right, Mr Pugh?
Oh, yes. I was really admiring your dress. Very suitable, I thought.
After I'll Fly You For A Quid, we still had to write another script.
And Ronnie wanted to do something to do with prison.
We were very daunted when we really started to think
about the reality of prison.
So we started to try and write a really good
half-hour piece of television but we had the advantage
of having a megastar in it.
Comedy was about to do time.
Still to come, the birth of Britain's favourite old lag.
I spy with my little eye, something beginning with C.
You come up with a joke like that, you feel like having the rest of the day off, you think,
"We won't come up with anything better than that today."
Location hunting with a Porridge aficionado.
Ronnie stood right here, 41 and three-quarter years ago.
And we continue to chew the fat with the boys.
I'm grateful to this little pub for actually being this place
where we started this journey. It's still a nice pub.
It has no Chilean sea bass on the lunch menu.
No satays on sticks. It has no satays on sticks.
This is a real good pub.
I can't believe it's 50 years since we've been here.
Being banged up isn't a barrel of laughs but in 1973 Ronnie Barker
had an idea that would take comedy to where it had never been before.
The idea to do a prison series was mine.
Originally, I'd imagined it would be a bit more jokey,
sort of smuggling women over the wall and that sort of thing.
But Dick Clement and Ian La Frenais, the writers,
quite rightly saw it as an opportunity
to get some reality into the piece. Not all jokes, some feeling
of the sterner realities of these dreadful places.
Clement and La Frenais' second script for Seven Of One
was Prisoner And Escort, which follows wily old lag
Norman Stanley Fletcher's eventful trip to Slade Prison.
He's all yours then and a happy New Year to you, Fletcher.
Oh, yes, very witty. Very droll, yeah.
We thought a long journey would be helpful
so that you have time to get to know them.
That's why we chose the... We set the prison in Cumberland.
So it was a long way away. It was a train ride and then a ride in a van.
Yeah, it was sort of Euston to Carlisle.
You can have a look at my Angling Times if you like? No, he can't!
God Almighty! Mollycoddling him already.
People seem to forget what prison is for. He's paying a debt to society.
Not having an all-expenses-paid holiday
with privileges and magazines.
And it's basically a three-hander between Fletcher and the two guards.
I was actually surprised at how edgy it is at times.
I spy with my little eye, something beginning with C.
I must be getting this wrong. That can't be the joke?
They didn't have that word in the '70s, did they?
Now you watch it, sonny. Watch it.
Constable.
Making sure Fletch gets up to no funny business en route
are prisoner officers Mr Mackay and Mr Barraclough,
played by Fulton Mackay and Brian Wilde.
We never looked specifically for comic actors.
We didn't... With The Likely Lads, particularly, we wanted good actors.
We didn't know Fulton. Fulton did some serious theatre.
It's dreadful having to go now but I have an engagement.
With your great friends.
No, no. General Campion. Mr Sandbach, of course.
And Brian was... Brian? Comedy?
He'd always been a sort of serious lugubrious person
or slightly sinister and so it seemed a strange choice.
I will give you two minutes, my French friends.
In that two minutes, you will either give me this information
or I will have you killed.
SHOUTS
Representing polar ends of the prison system,
Mr Barraclough believes in rehabilitation rather than reproach.
I've always thought that the way to encourage trust was to show trust.
They're criminals, man. Ah, but they're also human beings.
All right, but criminal human beings.
Whereas former drill sergeant Mr Mackay
exercises military order to keep Slade on the straight and narrow.
I'm not one of your mealy-mouthed liberals. I harbour grudges.
Did we specify that the hard-nosed PO was a Scot?
Yeah. I'm sure we... Yes, we did.
And we didn't specify where Barraclough was from.
I think the phrase for Mackay for me would be,
"Pull yourself together, Mr Barraclough".
And Brian Wilde, no particular one.
"Well, I think you're being very unfair to a very well-meaning body of people."
That's good, yes. That's very Brian. He was an appeaser.
Even some of the most cynical and hardened criminals have changed at this place.
Well, you see, they respond to our methods, you see,
which are not based on correction or punishment but on sympathy
and understanding.
Ah, thank you. I forget whether you take sugar or not
but it makes no difference because I spilt most of yours on the way back.
The three central characters, Ronnie's character Fletcher
and Barraclough and Mackay were established very, very quickly
in that Prisoner And Escort one-off.
It works so strongly. I mean, it is absolutely...
You get all the characterisations and you know what's going to happen
in the future and, of course, it did. It was fantastic.
Just show me some respect, keep your nose clean, you'll be all right.
I'm hard but fair. Yeah? Like Leeds United.
Although mostly confined to a studio set,
Ronnie and co got a taste of freedom in Prisoner And Escort.
Travelling in this '70s police van is a celebrity convict,
charged with finding the little-known locations used during the filming of the pilot.
First stop is a small train station
nestled in the valleys of South Wales.
Welsh-born actor, comedian and Porridge uber-fan
Keith Allen has returned to the scene of the crime.
This station is famous for nothing...
..except one thing.
This is where Norman Stanley Fletcher,
quite literally, took the wee-wee.
Round the back. Thanks, Mr Mackay.
There's the moment in it where he suddenly asks to go and have a pee
and he goes round and sees the petrol cap.
It was irresistible for Fletcher to not do something to stir it up.
ENGINE COUGHS
Plugs, is it? Ignition?
Put the bracelets on him.
So Fletcher has successfully managed to sabotage the journey
from the station to Slade Prison
and the van has broken down here on Gelligaer Mountain.
Slade Prison was supposed to be set in Cumberland.
But those of you who know anything about mysterious languages
will know that Gelligaer is not actually Cumberlandese, it's Welsh.
And of course we are here in Wales.
ENGINE SPLUTTERS Sounds like the carburettor.
Have to get the bus then, wont we? What bus?
Interestingly enough, I was a very naughty boy when I was young
and I attended lots of institutions at the pleasure of Her Majesty.
Um, one of which was a detention centre not very far from here.
Usk. And, funnily enough,
I was driven from Cardiff Prison to Usk Detention Centre
in one of these. Exactly one of these.
And I'll never forget the screw in the back,
he actually offered me a cigarette,
which was pretty surprising.
When I took it, he said, "Make the most of it, boy,
"it's the last one you'll be having for a long time".
I'm going onto the prison. Now listen to me, you do not move,
you do not move from here and you do not take the bracelets off of him.
Right? Right, Mr Mackay.
So you have to remember Mackay had disappeared you know, off marching.
He's always marching everywhere, Mackay.
Which obviously means that Fletcher is left with Barraclough.
A very significant moment in the history of Porridge
because they go to the farmhouse, which I think is just over there,
and you see the relationship
between Barraclough and Fletcher established very, very early.
And what a fantastic relationship it turns out to be.
Ain't there any farms or houses around here?
Well, there's a cottage not far. Well, let's go there then.
Oh, no. We can't do that. Mr Mackay said we had to wait in the van.
Oh, well, we'll die in the van then, I don't care.
Ah, but anyway, it'll be all locked up.
I mean, they only use it in the summer. So what?
Well, how would we get in? Oh, Mr Barraclough.
I'm only a flaming housebreaker, ain't I?
Just a stone's throw away is Clywdtrowsky Farm,
where Fletcher and Mr Barraclough sought sanctuary.
Is whisky medicinal? Oh, yeah.
Well, I always feel better when I've had a few.
Oh, well, if it's medicinal then. Yeah.
It's while he's getting him drunk that you come to
learn about Mr Barraclough's relationship with his wife.
I mean, he's so downtrodden.
In the end, we went to see a marriage guidance counsellor.
Oh, yeah. That help, did it?
Well, it helped her. She ran off with him.
And, in fact, I think Fletcher actually does,
which was amazing at the time and I didn't remember this,
he actually calls her an old slag. LAUGHS
You're well out of an old slag like that, ain't you, eh?
She's come back.
Typical of Dick and Ian's writing. Just beautifully disguised
because I don't think anyone who ever watched it for the first time would see that coming.
And then Fletcher works things so that Barraclough
eventually falls asleep and Fletcher escapes
and charges off across the countryside. Very, very funny.
Mr Barraclough?
This farm has been in the Jones' family for three generations.
Today, Judith and husband Clwyd tend the land.
It's a very cold November evening and you're in your farmhouse.
And who did you see running across here?
Well, it was very exciting, of course.
I was a student at the time and the wall there,
Ronnie Barker was running across there in the darkness.
It was so exciting.
SHEEP BLEAT
Of course, those were some scenes that were later put into Porridge.
Were you making tea for them all? Well, no, that was one of the joys.
There was a catering van... Phwoar! ..and it was...
Can we get one today? I'm freezing! Yes, please. BOTH LAUGH
There was one on the yard at one time.
Of course, my mother thought this was wonderful
because my father, my mother and myself,
we went up there for food and we didn't have to cook.
So she was quite pleased about that.
I think there's a great moment in it when Fletcher does go on the lam
and then he goes round and round and breaks back into a hut.
COUGHING
Are you out here, Fletcher? Oh!
We had to be very careful to conceal
from the studio audience that this was the same set
because, if they were ahead of you, you wouldn't have got the laugh.
Mr Barraclough?!
Oh, my God! You did give me a fright. What are you doing here?
That's what I'd like to know.
So I remember we had to go through a lot of thinking.
It was a different room in the same hut
but it was a very, very big laugh indeed.
You look terrible, you know, as though you've been up all night.
Well, I couldn't sleep, could I?
Ronnie stood right here
41 and three-quarter years ago,
overlooking all of this.
Well, yeah, look at it. It's a bit bleak, desolate.
I can quite understand why he'd have done a runner.
But thank God he ran around in circles,
otherwise we wouldn't have had the series, would we? LAUGHS
Coming up, heated discussions at BBC HQ
leave Fletcher's future hanging in the balance.
This is not going to work. How can this work?
This is not a... Being in prison is not funny.
Plus, never-before-broadcast recordings
of Ronnie Barker's final turn as Norman Stanley Fletcher.
This is Fletcher's script, part one.
Here's your opportunity to break out. In a sweat, that is.
By 1973, Ronnie Barker had seven comedy pilots in the can.
Clement and La Frenais had delivered I'll Fly You For A Quid.
I was saying to Mortlake only this morning, I'll bet a fiver he doesn't last the week.
And Prisoner And Escort.
What are you doing here? That's what I'd like to know.
Now a tough decision lay ahead.
Which would be developed further and which would be discarded.
The BBC had turned to us and they said,
"Which one of these would you like to turn into a series?"
So there was a debate between us all, including Ronnie.
I think we all thought that I'll Fly You For A Quid
would be the one because it had so much going for it.
I think Ronnie particularly wanted to do I'll Fly You For A Quid.
I wanted to pick the Welsh one as a series
but I was persuaded by one of the bosses to do the prison series.
How glad I am he persuaded me.
From Seven Of One, the BBC green-lit two sitcoms.
Open All Hours and Clement and La Frenais' Porridge.
But for Dick and Ian, going behind bars was no laughing matter.
We went round a lot of prisons and they're not funny.
They're not funny at all.
We looked at three prisons. We saw Pentonville, the Scrubs.
But Brixton they showed us around more thoroughly. Wish they hadn't.
We were quite worried about it, then we reminded ourselves
it was going to be Ronnie Barker in this, so that felt reassuring.
Introducing us to the ultimate trapped situation,
Dick and Ian gave us a taste of how scary prison life could be
as Fletcher is joined by first-time offender Lenny Godber.
Godber, Leonard Arthur, 23. First offender.
Two years breaking and entering. Seems somewhat naive.
Could be corrupted, possibly by this one.
Fletcher, Norman Stanley, 42. Five years.
The opening episode was called New Faces, Old Hands.
Fletcher being the old hand. Fletcher knowing it,
or been there, done that. Here it was, knew the routine,
knew everything that was going to happen,
which he then imparted to Godber, who was the new fish.
That's an American slang.
Telling Godber his way of surviving... Telling the audience.
And tell him how the average day begins.
Starts off at 7am.
You'll be woken by a persistent and deafening bell,
then all the screws come round. I beg your pardon?
All the prison officers come round, offering such advice as,
"Wakey, wakey, get your socks on. Move, you horrible creatures."
We reply to this badinage with such remarks as,
"Good gracious, is that the time?"
Almost 17 million viewers tuned in to see Lenny Godber,
played by 27-year-old Richard Beckinsale,
take his first lecture from Fletcher on how to beat the system. Why?
If you say you was a Muslim, you see, if you was a Muslim you could get special food sent in from outside.
Don't like Chinese food.
It's not Chinese. Muslims ain't Chinese.
What's Muslim food then?
Well, it's, um...
Well, it's a damn sight better than he rubbish you get in here, innit?
His character was loved by one and all.
As indeed he was as a man and he twinkled, he twinkled.
Twinkle in his eye during the performance, which was irresistible.
We all got on so well from the first.
I think it was inspirational to bring in Richard Beckinsale.
Hello, Fletch.
Who was one of the most
clever, kind, considerate people I have ever met.
I've always been a fan of the subtle and the natural
and the kind of un-showy.
And I think he was an absolute master at that.
So I did the flat next door because I knew he'd be away, like,
because he drives a juggernaut from West Bromwich to Brussels.
Only, he got a puncture just outside Coventry
and come home and kicked me head in.
Although effortlessly performed,
this first episode presented Beckinsale with a problem.
Here!
Godber was from Birmingham and Richard was from Nottingham
and they're not exactly a million miles apart
but very different in terms of the actual accent.
I think, at the time, the BBC had a record library of accents
and you could go in and hear all number of things.
And he would play it and play it and play it.
And I remember that first episode. Um...
I think he says something, like "Yaow been here before?"
And it was a "yaow" and he'd been practising "yaow".
Know all the form, don't you?
Yaow been here before? No, never been here before
but it's all the same, innit? Porridge is porridge, innit?
He was very nervous before the first recording.
And then came out going, "Oh, I think the accent came off OK".
Just keep your nose clean, bide your time, do your Porridge. All right?
I'm only here due to tragic circumstances.
Oh, which were? I got caught.
As Godber discovered, the first day of prison is daunting.
And not every new face benefits from the wisdom
of an old hand like Fletcher.
That is until 2003,
when Ronnie Barker brought Fletch out of retirement
to record a series of inside guides to help new inmates adjust to life
at Her Majesty's pleasure.
OK? Just a little... All right.
This is Fletcher's script, part one.
This is the first time these tapes
have ever been broadcast on television.
All right? You must be new around here.
The name is Fletcher. Norman Stanley Fletcher. Fletch for short.
I've been asked to introduce this here information centre to you
on account of the fact that I have had some experience
of being an involuntary guest of Her Majesty, see?
We had developed a touchscreen system
for providing prisoners with information
that would comfort them when they first came into prison.
We simply did not have the time or the staff
to talk to them about everything that they needed to know.
The wonderful part was that Ronnie
was absolutely adamant about helping.
He was able to understand what the prisoners needed.
When I did my Porridge, although I don't suppose you call it that nowadays, do you?
Well, anyway, when I served my time, I remember first going into prison
and how anxious I felt in this new unfamiliar setup.
DOOR SLAMS
What he did was introduce this information
in a very light-hearted Fletcher-like way.
If you walk with a stammer, speak with a limp
or hear with a lisp, you might want to see a specialist.
He would describe about letter-writing to the family
and how visitors could come in.
You can invite your loved ones to visit and the mother-in-law as well.
BUZZER
Prisoners worked out a system
whereby, if they pressed the button twice, very quickly,
they could just get Ronnie and have a whole series
of icons of Ronnie being Fletcher.
Here's your opportunity to break out. Don't hold your tongue,
especially when you're talking, because you won't be understood.
Pentonville in the year that this system was introduced
had no suicides at all, which for a massive London local,
with a turnover of 48,000 movements through reception per annum,
that was a magnificent piece of work.
The re-offender. What's the re-offender doing? LAUGHS
The back of the car.
40 years on, Norman Stanley Fletcher
continues to dole out advice on doing time
and his antics on the inside continue to make us laugh.
Wait for it, wait for it. Two, three, knickers down.
No other sitcom has ever dared to make light of prison life,
except one, Porridge.
Anybody we know?
Porridge was the best thing I ever did, I think. The best thing I ever did.
All right then, I owe you one.
Next time on Porridge: Inside Out, we meet sitcom's hardest hard nut.
When I was in Parkhurst I had a pigeon.
What did you do with it when you had to move, like? I ate it.
I played hard nuts for many years, many years before and after.
Discover the exact location of Slade Prison.
Well, the most famous thing about this gate is it is the gate
used in the opening credits of Porridge.
And discuss all things Porridge with the Porridge cast.
I have Porridge every morning. So do I. Yeah.
I have mine with double cream. Do you have it with salt?
No, double cream! Oh, I love it when you talk dirty, Sam.
ALL LAUGH
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Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd