Frances de la Tour interview: From Shakespeare to Rising Damp, the actress has lit up stage and TV for 50 years - and found new fans in Vicious | The Independent Profiles Frances de la Tour interview: From Shakespeare to Rising Damp, the actress has lit up stage and TV for 50 years - and found new fans in Vicious Back in the 1970s, the TV sitcom ‘Rising Damp’ brought Frances de la Tour such recognition that she could be forgiven if she’d never been able to move on. But at 70, she continues to flourish - and to beguile Friday 22 May 2015 17:00 BST Click to follow The Independent Online De la Tour's major strength is to radiate a slightly weary, seen-it-all romanticism Kalpesh Lathigra It takes approximately 90 seconds to register that Frances de la Tour is a shocking flirt.

As she perches beside me on the sofa in the first-floor bar of the Ivy Club in Soho, her eyes lock on to mine, her expressive mouth widens into a cheerfully on-for-it grin and, as I babble through a chaotic question about her recent adventures, she cuts straight across it and says, fingering the sleeve of my suit: "This is a nice piece of schmatter – is it linen or cotton?" This year, in which she turns 71, she celebrates 50 years of stage acting at the highest level – at the Royal Shakespeare Company, the National Theatre and in London's West End. She has played classic roles from Chekhov, Webster, Shaw, Albee and Eugene O'Neill as well as the Bard, while descending, from time to time, to the less rarefied level of television comedy. Her major strength is to radiate a slightly weary, seen-it-all romanticism, expressing a perfect balance of disappointment and optimism via that uniquely rich contralto voice. She's equally at home playing tragedy or comedy – you could say that she had a head start, given that she possesses both the most melancholy eyes and the most dazzling smile in British theatre.

In the public consciousness, she is stuck fast in the 1970s with her role in Rising Damp as Miss Ruth Jones, the poodle-haired and breathless object of Leonard Rossiter's urgent desire and seedy gallantry. Their double-act entered the collective cultural memory and stayed there, a fact that does not please De la Tour. "It's the tombstone thing, isn't it?" she says. "I just know that, when I die, the papers will say, 'Rising Damp Woman Kicks the Bucket'." To be fair, I say, the 1980 movie version won you Best Actress at the Evening Standard Film Awards. "Oh yes," she says, with a bitter laugh. "I remember. The Standard people got in touch and said, 'You're up for Best Actress in the Film Awards.' I said, 'But I haven't made a film this year.' They said, 'It's for Rising Damp.' I said, 'Oh, that.' It made me laugh so much." Thirty-five years later, she's playing a different quality of sex object in another TV sitcom, Vicious.

The show stars two veteran stage knights, Sir Ian McKellen and Sir Derek Jacobi as Freddie and Stuart, a long-term gay couple and sparring partners in a battle of theatrical bitchiness that amuses or horrifies everyone drawn into its orbit. De la Tour plays Violet Crosby, the neighbour who pops in every day (as they do in sitcom-land) to exchange brittle banter with the senior queens and utter cougarish remarks of sleek seductiveness at Ash (Iwan Rheon), the handsome (and straight) 22-year-old boy upstairs. Remarkably, the show was the joint creation of Mark Ravenhill, the controversial playwright behind Shopping and Fucking and Mother Clap's Molly House, and Gary Janetti, the American TV writer and producer behind Family Guy and Will & Grace. Where fans of both writers might anticipate super-explicit or super-brittle dialogue, Vicious is rather sweetly old-fashioned in its gay bitchery and non-PC idiom. McKellen and Jacobi swish about with a camp extravagance that Kenneth Williams might have found a bit extreme, and relish the exchanges.

When Violet is told that there's a strange man (namely Ash) in the gay pair's lavatory, she cries: "You let a complete stranger use your loo? What if he comes out of there and rapes me?" McKellen's mouth twitches in a moue of scorn. "Let's cross that bridge when we come to it," he murmurs. "I was absolutely delighted to be asked to do Vicious," says De la Tour, "and the people of my generation who were in the studio audience were ever so chuffed to see me." She put her hand modestly on her breast. "I got an entrance round!" Was Gary Janetti a natural to write a sitcom about elderly British gays? "I don't know how he did it," she says, "because it's very English and he is sooo American. But he knows about comedy and the timing of a line, even though he's not an actor." British critics were divided about the merits of Vicious.

The Daily Mail dubbed McKellen and Jacobi "the Steptoe and Son of the gay and thespian community," but the Daily Telegraph called the show "the least funny new comedy in recent years" – and the art critic Brian Sewell described it as "a spiteful parody that could not have been nastier had it been devised and written by a malevolent and recriminatory heterosexual." Astonishingly, though, it went down very well in America. "The critics here said it was too camp, like Are You Being Served?" De la Tour says. "But over there it broke new ground, because it was about the relationship between two older gay men. It's funny, but it's about a serious gay relationship, and that hadn't been done before. It went out on public TV there, and now there's sponsorship money going into it. That's how much they like it." The character of Violet is intriguing. She clearly loves the warring partners, but is no fag-hag. She tells them she's disgusted by their physical relationship, and is sharply critical about their toxic tiffs. But she can't keep away.

Even when dating unsuitable men whom she's met online, she keeps Freddie and Stuart informed of every twist. "I don't know why Violet and Stuart and Freddie love each other," says De la Tour. "They're awful to her; they'll say, 'You can't have any food' or 'It's about time you left' – but they always welcome her. They provide the sanctuary in her life and the show is all about that." Violet became more shocking as the first series progressed. In one episode, five million viewers watched De la Tour, now 70, dressed in a leather gimp suit and handcuffed to a bed by an unscrupulous Argentinian lover. In the last episode, when the boy Ash commiserates with Violet and assures her that there's definitely a Big Love out there for her in the world somewhere, Violet slams him against a wall and thanks him with a full-on snog. "Ed [Bye, the director] told me they wanted to show that Violet would go for it," says De la Tour simply. "So I went for it." In the second series, we'll discover that Violet has married a mystery man, > and that she has a sister (played by Celia Imrie).

The episodes will move beyond the cosy interior of Freddie and Stuart's flat, using outside locations in East London. "It was exhausting," says De la Tour, theatrically. "It was so easy in the first series, it was all, 'Darling, come in, sit down, have some tea, leave.' In the second, we had to learn ballroom dancing..." De la Tour says: 'I just know that when I die, the headlines will say, 'Rising Damp Woman Kicks the Bucket'' (Kalpesh Lathigra) She was born in 1944 in Bovingdon, Hertfordshire. Her father, Charles, a film-maker and scriptwriter, was immensely proud of his family's French connections and, like Tess Durbeyfield's dad in Tess of the D'Urbevilles, liked to accentuate the Gallic strain. Which is why Frances found herself at school at London's Lycée Francais when she was five. She didn't share her father's Francophilia. "My father was romantic about the name De la Tour; he thought it was aristocratic.

He said, 'You ought to be able to speak French, to live up to your name.' But I didn't want to be at the Lycée. It was pretty frightening. You walked in and everything was in French. Sit down in French, have lunch in French, learn English in French. In geography, I knew all about the Massif Central, but nothing about Marble Arch. But really it could have been any school – I was miserable because I just wanted to be with my mum. "I learned that, like most families, ours was completely mixed. My mother's mother was Irish, Cathleen O'Neill from County Cork. She couldn't read, and she married a wild Greek Macedonian. She was very down-to-earth. She'd say, I don't know why you're at the Lycée, it's only because your father wanted you to go there. I think she loved my dad, but they separated when I was 12.

She remarried and I went to a bad private school in Cookham, a little village in Berkshire, where Stanley Spencer the artist came knocking at the door of the house because he liked to know who the neighbours were." Read more More arts and entertainment news and reviews Her way in to acting was through poetry recitals. De la Tour paints a cruelly unvarnished picture of her young self. "In those days they had elocution classes run by eccentric women who loved acting and the theatre. One was Rita Melene, whom I'm forever thankful to, because she clapped eyes on this shy, gawky, unable to speak, am-I-English-am-I-French, funny little thing with specs and bands on the teeth, and she must have thought, 'Take away the glasses and maybe there's something nice inside.' She entered me for these poetry competitions, judged by people like [the actress] Gwen Ffrangcon-Davies. I loved doing poetry. I felt safe because it didn't take too long; you could stand on that stage and dare to speak, and be off a minute later." What was her voice like before the elocution lessons? "Like Miss Jones's," she says sardonically.

"Much higher than it is now." Her characteristic slow drawl, she says, "was all about fear of speaking French or English. You'd approach it gingerly." Did her mother encourage her? "She tried to help me, but she was probably too dominant. She was very beautiful and I was in awe of her, but it didn't make me want to be like her." Instead, she "withdrew into boyfriends". She had lots of young squeezes between the ages of 14 and 17, and attributes her success to her grandmother's advice. "She told me, 'You got to smell good, you got to laugh, got to make them laugh, and to listen, even if they are boring. But most of all, you got to smell good.' I was wearing Arpege by Lanvin at 16." De la Tour (far left) with Madame Markova, Vanessa Redgrave and Oleg Menshikov in 1991, after performing 'When She Danced' at the Globe Theatre' (Rex) Thus equipped to take on the world, she went to drama school at 17, and joined the RSC in 1965 at 21.

She had several small roles in the next five years, then hit the jackpot in 1970, as part of the company who staged Peter Brook's A Midsummer Night's Dream – the production with the white box, the swings, trapezes, stilts, spinning plates and other manifestations of magic. De la Tour was comedy gold as Helena, derangedly in love with Demetrius. "Ben Kingsley played Demetrius," she said fondly. "He was 27, I was 26. In one scene we did together, I had to keep him onstage at all costs. He kept moving offstage – so I just rugby-tackled him. We'd spent 10 weeks rehearsing the play, and were so familiar with the text that whatever we did physically seemed perfectly okay." She was, she says, extremely nervous. "Why? Because I was thinking, 'I'm doing Shakespeare. I'm playing a huge part with a visionary director. It's in rhyming couplets. I'm 26. I don't know who I am or what's happening…' But Peter was so loving, very sweet and funny and nice to me.

He said, 'Whatever insecurities you're feeling right now, then so is Helena.' At one point, I even sang a few notes – although I can't sing – just to free myself. He liked it so much, he kept it in." The mid-1960s were a heady time to be a young British actor. Frances de la Tour saw Laurence Olivier and Maggie Smith in their finest hour, giving their Othello and Desdemona at the Old Vic. At the same time, the RSC were putting on The Wars of the Roses, a dizzying mash-up of Shakespeare's history plays. At the Aldwych, Peter Daubeny's World Theatre season was in full swing, headed by the Berliner Ensemble. "It was an astonishing time," she breathes, "to be 19, just about to leave drama school, and going to see every single production we could get to, in the upper circle." Which actresses did she admire? "Oh, Maggie Smith – she was absolutely astonishing in The Beaux' Stratagem, so pretty and she radiated wit in the old sense, meaning intelligence.

I saw Vanessa [Redgrave] doing As You Like It and David Warner as Hamlet – and suddenly, it wasn't all about glamorous theatre any more. It was real, with bright lights and no make-up. It was the end of the old school of theatre." It was also time for a change of acting style. While De la Tour was appearing as Rosalind in As You Like It at the Oxford Playhouse, and Isabella in The White Devil at the Old Vic, she was also appearing in television comedy. She co-starred in the original 1971 cast of The Banana Box, a play by Ian Chappell about a rundown Yorkshire townhouse converted into bedsits by the landlord – one Rupert Rooksby, a grubby, intrusive, miserly, lecherous, right-wing bigot who constantly invades the privacy of his tenants. They include a posh, dreamy spinster and university administrator, and a suave black student who claims to be the son of an African chief. Leonard Rossiter played Rooksby, Don Warrington played the black student and Frances de la Tour the whimsical love object.

De la Tour with Leonard Rossiter in 'Rising Damp' (Rex) After its West End run, a forgotten producer suggested it might make a good sitcom, and Rising Damp was born. With Richard Beckinsale added to the cast as the medical student Alan, and Rossiter's horrible-but-fascinating character re-named Rigsby, it aired in 1974, ran to four series until 1978, and was the highest-ranking ITV sitcom in BBC's 100 Best Sitcoms poll of 2004. Did De la Tour feel at the time that a sitcom was a bit beneath an RSC actress? "We were just doing it for the money," she says. "I certainly needed the money and if you're offered a TV sitcom, you say 'Yeah, fine.' It was actually a great era for sitcoms. There were at least four other good ones around at the time. But," she adds with a touch of pride amidst her disapproval of the subject, "about 20 million people watched ours." So she became a TV star! How did that feel? Her lovely eyes frown.

"I made a real point," she says evenly, "of having nothing to do with celebrity. There was a show on television called Celebrity Squares, which I was offered. I said, 'I'm not doing it, I'm not doing anything about celebrity.' I went straight into more plays. I did lots of things on the fringe, not earning anything, to continue doing the work that I was trained for." We seem to have hit an awkwardly serious point in our jolly discussion. I ask about the first scenes she shared onstage with Rossiter. Had his comic timing struck her as a bit… "Haven't we exhausted Rising Damp by now?" she asks, in that flat rhetorical way that demands the answer "Yes." I move on. Is she, I ask, a comic actress who can turn her hand to tragedy, or an essentially tragic actress who can sometimes forget herself enough to do comedy? And which is harder? She recoils as if I'd asked her to recite the Sanskrit alphabet. "How can you throw that at me?" she says crossly. "What kind of question is that? It's like asking, 'Could you please tell me about the essence of quantum physics?

And while you're at it, could you explain gravity?" All I meant (I say) was, is it hard to do both? She seems mollified. "My answer to that is: if you can do comedy, you can do tragedy. If you can do tragedy, you can't necessarily do comedy." She has won three Olivier Awards: Best Actress for Duet for One (written by her ex-husband Tom Kempinski, by whom she has two grown-up children) in 1980; Best Actress in O'Neill's A Moon for the Misbegotten in 1983; Best Supporting Actress for When She Danced in 1992. But the stage role for which she's been most celebrated is Mrs Lintott, the wry, caustic, funny, close-to-retirement schoolmistress in The History Boys, Alan Bennett's comic-poignant play about a class of teenagers being prepared for Oxbridge by teachers with contrasting attitudes to education. De la Tour with Ian McKellen and Derek Jacobi in Vicious (ITV) "Ten years ago, I was in Sydney doing The Dance of Death with Ian McKellen," she recalls.

"There were lots of posters for Alan's series of monologues, Talking Heads, with Maggie Smith and Maggie Tyzack. I remember feeling miffed and thinking, 'Why have I never been in an Alan Bennett play?' Well, I went back to the hotel and there was a script from Nick Hytner, who'd recently taken over at the National. It was The History Boys. Before even reading it properly, I'd said yes. And I learned later that Alan had written in the margin of the first script, 'Frances de la Tour to play Mrs Lintott?' They knew before I knew that it was right for me. Sometimes it takes another person to know what you should play." Had she invented a back-story for Mrs Lintott? "She's honest, I think. She has this line: 'I went to Durham University and I loved it. I had my first pizza there. Other things too, of course, but it's the pizza that stands out.' That says everything about her." The History Boys was an unexpected smash hit on Broadway.

It defied logic that Manhattan playgoers could be beguiled by a drama about British teaching methods that looked kindly upon casual paedophilia and featured a scene conducted entirely in French. De la Tour won a Tony Award for her portrayal of Mrs Lintott. "I absolutely adored it in America," she says, eyes glittering. "Because they didn't know who I was, they thought they'd discovered me. I was like an adopted child. Because New Yorkers are New Yorkers, they'd pick me up in the street and embrace me. Not just the gay community – there were straight guys as well, people so smitten with the show, the characters, and Richard [Griffiths] playing Hector. Paul Newman saw it four times." She went on chat shows, and found herself fighting off frock designers who wanted her to wear their creations to the Tonys. "I had to have a dress made for me, and I wore black diamonds – something I'd never do for the Oliviers. Of course, you had to make sure to send the diamonds back afterwards…" Whereupon she rises to her feet and swans off for a flirtatious cigarette up on the roof terrace with her friend Marc Sinden, son of the late Donald.

She's too cool and clever to be a diva, but she's an authentic star. And she's moved several aeons beyond the days of Miss Ruth Jones, her seedy Northern bedsit and the wooing strategies of Mr Rupert Rigsby. The new series of 'Vicious' starts Monday 1 June at 9pm on ITV1 LeonardRossiter.com: Rigsby Online - Story of Rising Damp - The TV Series See Main Biographies page for appearances and biographies. Rupert Rigsby played by Leonard Rossiter Landlord of the boarding house. Extremely prejudiced, especially toward students and blacks (examples of both of which reside in his home). Married (Veronica, during wartime, and on pain of death by her father's shotgun), but now separated. Has a shoplifting brother, Ron, in Accrington. Wears one set of clothes: holey green cardigan, minus most buttons, shiny grey trousers, worn red slippers (but still has his demob suit, minus its pockets' linings). Participation in World War II sketchy at best. Has tendency to embellish war stories. Dislikes children (after receiving a singed beard while playing Santa one Christmas).

Has barred any romance in the house (probably based on jealousy). Lusts after Ruth Jones, a tenant and spinster. Only companion is Vienna, his flea-bitten cat. Ruth Jones played by Frances de la Tour Tenant of the boarding house. University administrator, responsible for the accommodation of students.Thirty-something spinster with few previous beaus (one being a policeman who always wore his uniform, hence the need to keep swinging their arms to show they weren't handcuffed together). Has brought a womanly touch to the dingy lodgings (eg. blue water in the toilet) and never complains about her room (unlike the other tenants). Continually rebuffs Rigsby's advances. Lusts after black student tenant Philip Smith, but eventually falls in love with and moves out to live with librarian Desmond, but returns after it doesn't work out. Eventually accepts Rigsby's hand in marriage but gets cold feet before the service. Alan Moore played by Richard Beckinsale Tenant of the boarding house. Medical student at the local university. A kind, gentle sort of chap, with boyish good looks, which have, nevertheless, resulted in a noticeable absence of girlfriends, despite his boasting to the contrary.

Still very much under his parents' wings (he goes home at the weekends), he is rather cowardly and gullible, but enjoys playing tricks on Rigsby with his room-mate Philip Smith. Graduates as a doctor and leaves the house. Philip Smith played by Don Warrington Tenant of the boarding house. Town and country planning student at the local university. Alleges he is from Africa and has ten wives. A black, well-spoken, well-dressed gentleman, with tribal makrs and a long history of girlfriends, much to the annoyance of room-mate Alan. Is lusted after by Miss Jones, much to the annoyance of Rigsby. Has no interest in Miss Jones, much to the annoyance of Miss Jones. Is often the butt of Rigsby's racist, bigoted comments. The Series Series One was broadcast from December 13th 1974 to January 17th 1975, and was an immediate success. It was a personal triumph for Leonard Rossiter, his first sitcom role. Each week, viewers learned more and more about each of the characters.

Rigsby would go to even greater lengths to win affection from Miss Jones, while being victim to Alan and Philip's pranks. Rigsby would carry around his overweight, slothful cat Vienna (which Leonard hated off-set. Although a cat-lover, he used to complain that Vienna smelled awful), barging into the boys' room without knocking, trying to catch them 'up to something', which they never were. Mocking Philip, his race and his culture, while trying to be a father-figure to Alan, Rigsby came over as cold, pretentious and chauvinistic, but at the same time vulnerable, a sad, lonely figure of a man who longed for love and happiness in his twilight years. As Eric Chappell says: "Rigsby wanted to be part of their lives, which became irritating for them... and he was always coming through doors without knocking, saying he had right of access - which really meant access to their lives, not just their rooms." The first series of any sitcom is much concerned with establishing the characters and their lives, and Eric displayed this very well in the scripts, which often drew on the script from The Banana Box.

We learn that Rigsby did marry, a battle-axe called Veronica, but he was 'elated' when she left him. He was a soldier in World War Two, and would get out his mementoes or relate one of his yarns at the slightest mention of the war. Leonard once said of Rigsby: "I knew people like this. I've sat in pubs with them." And Don Warrington concurs: "I think he really caught something about the English in Rigsby - a sort of emotional incontinence which one can see in pubs. The one who knows it all and actually knows nothing. He got that brilliantly." The second series ran from November 7th until December 19th 1975, and saw further development of the characters. In Episode Four (' Moonlight & Roses '), Miss Jones is swept off her feet by a librarian named Desmond (played by Robin Parkinson), and her departure rocks Rigsby's world - until Alan installs artists' nude model Brenda (played by Gay Rose) into the vacant room.

A conman (Henry McGee) plays on Rigsby's gullibility to take his money (' The Perfect Gentleman '), and the tenants have the last laugh when he tries to convince them that the house is haunted by a 'grey lady' (' Things That Go Bump In The Night '). Although ending on December 19th, the series appeared to continue for another week when a Boxing Day special was broadcast on December 26th entitled ' For The Man Who Has Everything ', which sees Rigsby spending Christmas alone, opening his own Christmas card, and hoping he will catch someone under the mistletoe. The boys return home early for some yuletide romancing, thinking Rigsby is spending the festive season away. A delay in the writing of episodes caused conflict with theatre commitments for Frances, resulting in her being written out of the episodes The Perfect Gentleman , The Last Of The Big Spenders , Things That Go Bump In The Night and the Christmas special For The Man Who Has Everything . Rising Damp was absent from British screens for the whole of 1976 (except for repeats). This was due to Leonard's contract with the BBC filming The Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin .

But Rising Damp returned for a third series on April 12th 1977. Babies (' That's My Boy '), snakes (' Fawcett's Python '), a gay playwright (' Stage Struck ') and a hypochondriac (' Suddenly At Home ') all descend on 'Bleak House' for another seven episodes of brilliantly-written and even more brilliantly-acted sitcom fun. Frances de la Tour returned as Miss Jones, and Peter Bowles, Derek Francis, Ann Beach and Roger Brierley were among the guest stars for Series Three which ran until May 24th. By now, Richard Beckinsale had another successful series under his belt, Porridge, with Ronnie Barker. And Leonard had created another character of sitcom legend, over on BBC1. For those who had never seen Leonard on stage, the appearance of such disparate characters as Rigsby and Reginald Perrin gave the viewing public the opinion that theatre critics had long- known: that Leonard Rossiter was a fantastically versatile actor, hugely-talented, committing staggering energy and vitality to both performances on both channels. "I have never known such energy and such pace", recalls Eric Chappell.

"He could speak quicker than most people, and he could think about three different things at the same time, which was useful! He'd be remembering his lines, watching the set and the actors, and watching where the cameras were. He was really in control." Another year was to pass before Rising Damp's fourth and final series was aired. It featured just six episodes instead of the usual seven, for the simple reason that YTV forgot to commission a seventh! (Eric's scripts for Rising Damp were commissioned individually). The series ran from April 4th to May 9th 1978, and saw some of the funniest episodes of all, and commanding massive audience figures of over 18 million. Richard Beckinsale had left to pursue theatre commitments and the series' director Ronnie Baxter had left to direct In Loving Memory, so Vernon Lawrence took over the directorship. Nevertheless, the fourth series lost none of its quality: ' Great Expectations ' co-starred Andrew Sachs and Gretchen Franklin in a family inheritance tale that goes sour, but turns out for the best in the end. In 'Pink Carnations', a desperate Rigsby places an ad in a lonely-hearts column, only to have it answered by Miss Jones.

And in the final episode, Rigsby finally proposes to Miss Jones, who accepts. Sadly, she stands him up at the church, only to find that Rigsby had gone to the wrong church anyway. And so Rising Damp, one of the greatest sitcoms of all time, came to an end. It had won itself a BAFTA for Best Comedy, rocketed Leonard Rossiter to stardom and the comedy Hall of Fame, and it had served as a springboard for the writer Eric Chappell, who went on to write other classic situation comedies including Singles, The Bounder, Haggard, Home To Roost, Duty Free and Only When I Laugh. The perfection of the scripts, the massive talents of the actors involved, and the timelessness of the stories and settings ensure Rising Damp is as popular today as it has always been. Rising Damp characters - British Comedy Guide Played by: Leonard Rossiter A deeply flawed and complex man, Rigsby projects himself at once as both superior and inferior to those around him. His insecurities tend to lead Rigsby toward bigotry, and an obsession with status sees him at once look down on the student, and look up to the 'African Prince', Philip.

Possessing what can at best be described as a mild obsession for tenant Ruth Jones, he seems to spend a great deal of his day misguidedly attempting to impress and woo her in one way or another. When not chasing Miss Jones or terrorising his other tenants, Rigsby can be found with his old, fluffy cat, Vienna. Ruth Jones University Administrator. Played by: Frances de la Tour Highly strung and with a deeply passionate side, Miss Jones longs for love and romance - preferably with Philip. Sadly for Miss Jones, almost the only male attention she receives is from Rigsby. She is not completely averse to his charms, such as they are, but in all truth holds very little interest in him even as a man, let alone a lover. She is the most outwardly sophisticated of Rigsby and his tennants, but still holds delusions of greater intelligence, grandeur and lifestyle than is actually the case. Alan Moore (Series 1-3) Student. Played by: Richard Beckinsale Medical student Alan is a source of constant frustration and confusion to his landlord.

Alan represents all of the 1970s that Rigsby does not understand, and certainly does not experience: the liberated ideals of 'free love', music, changing fashions, and much else besides. In truth, however, Alan is only mildly more relaxed than Rupert Rigsby is, and certainly not much more 'hip'. But in the late 1970s, it's attitude that counts... Philip Smith Student. Played by: Don Warrington Suave, sophisticated, relaxed and learned - Philip is everything that Rupert Rigsby is not. Claiming to be an African Prince, he immediately sets himself both above and below his landlord; however, in reality he is nothing of the sort, having been born in Croydon, rather than the son of an African tribal chieftan. It's safe to say that Philip is by quite some way the most intelligent and educated resident of the house, and is not above playing on the insecurities and lower intelligence of others - mainly Rigsby - for his own amusement.

Share this page RISING DAMP THE MOVIE " RIGSBY DINES MISS JONES" - YouTube RISING DAMP THE MOVIE " RIGSBY DINES MISS JONES" Want to watch this again later? Sign in to add this video to a playlist. Need to report the video? Sign in to report inappropriate content. Rating is available when the video has been rented. This feature is not available right now. Please try again later. Uploaded on Dec 1, 2009 The brilliant Leonard Rossiter and delightful Frances de la Tour in the resturant clip from the movie Rising Damp. Class actors plying there trade to hilarious effect Category Rising Damp rises again on stage - BBC News BBC News Rising Damp rises again on stage By Ian Youngs Entertainment reporter, BBC News 16 May 2013 Close share panel Image caption Rising Damp starred Frances de la Tour, Leonard Rossiter and Don Warrington TV classic Rising Damp is the latest sitcom to be resurrected on stage, following the likes of Yes, Prime Minister and Steptoe & Son.

Actor Don Warrington and writer Eric Chappell discuss reviving the show and how to deal with Rigsby's racist views. It is 35 years since Rigsby, Miss Jones, Alan and Philip last congregated in their crumbling boarding house in Rising Damp, the 1970s sitcom that is often cited as ITV's greatest ever comedy. Now the characters have been reunited for a theatre tour, which began in Blackpool earlier this week. The original cast are not on stage, of course - Leonard Rossiter, who played Rigsby, and Richard Beckinsale, who played Alan, died many years ago. As for Frances de la Tour and Don Warrington, who played lovelorn singleton Miss Jones and student Philip, they are 35 years older. But there are links with the original - Warrington is back as director, while writer Eric Chappell has dusted off his scripts. Image caption The stage spin-off stars Stephen Chapman as Rigsby and Cornelius Macarthy as Philip The end result is just the latest attempt to recreate comedy gold on stage.

Yes, Prime Minister has been a hit in the West End, while TV favourites from Dad's Army to Dinnerladies have made theatre comebacks. After the flood of West End movie adaptations, it is perhaps no surprise that theatre producers have now turned to TV for source material. The only problem is that they have to live up to memories that fans have of beloved shows they watched every week for years. Warrington believes the new cast cannot hope to replicate the chemistry between Rising Damp's original co-stars. "You can't," he says. "The coming together of that bunch of people made the show happen, and you can't recreate that. So what you have to try and do is create something anew. "What I'm asking them to do is to create anew. It's theirs, it doesn't belong to anybody else - to me or anybody." The show is being staged by producers David Graham and Jan Hunt of Classic Comedy Productions, who have also put on theatre versions of Dinnerladies, Birds of a Feather and Keeping Up Appearances.

SITCOM TO STAGE Yes, Prime Minister (above) was revived in 2010, has been in the West End and is now on a UK tour Steptoe & Son, which stitched four old episodes together, gave the sitcom a darker edge on stage last year Fawlty Towers begot Faulty Towers: The Dining Experience, in which the comedy unfolds around the audience as they tuck into dinner A stage version of Birds of a Feather has reunited original cast members Pauline Quirke, Linda Robson and Lesley Joseph Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant gave amateur drama group Dudley Little Theatre permission to host the live premiere of The Office earlier this month Graham is realistic about why people come. "I think there's a big nostalgia thing, obviously," he says. "It's the characters and situations that they know and love and remember, and so the familiarity is very important. "In these austere days, when people go to the theatre, they may be a little bit more selective about what they go to.

"I'm sure it's really tough for new writers out there because, in the main, I think people have that 'we like what we know' attitude." As a result, Graham is more keen than Warrington for the new Rising Damp cast to fit a familiar mould. "The route we went down was to get a cast who were as close physically and naturally to the actors who portrayed those parts originally," he says. "We went through a very long audition process to find actors who are good actors in their own right who could bring something of themselves to the part, but who are still naturally close enough to the characters so that people wouldn't feel like they didn't recognise it." Rising Damp started life as a play titled The Banana Box, which introduced the shabby landlord Rigsby and his equally shabby boarding house in 1973. Writer Eric Chappell has used that script as the basis for the new show, peppering it with famous lines from the subsequent sitcom. There is another problem though. Like many domestic sitcoms from the 1970s, Rising Damp now feels terribly dated.

For many, as well as fond recollections of Leonard Rossiter's comic acting, the name Rising Damp conjures memories of Rigsby's casual racist barbs. Although the joke was always on the feeble Rigsby and not the unflappable Philip, such jibes would never be allowed today. Now and again you see a line and it makes you wince a little Eric Chappell, Rising Damp writer Chappell has decided to remove some of the most offensive language from the revived play, but insists Rigsby has not been totally watered down. "At the time, I was aware of sensitivities," Chappell says. "But I always made Philip the winner and I was determined right from the start, that's how I saw it. "So although the barbed remarks from Rigsby are barbed, Philip always had an answer to them. It always came from Rigsby's envy and general uncertainty about his life, so I didn't think there was any whiff of racism. "But nevertheless, in stage productions, in this modern age, now and again you see a line and it makes you wince a little.

Maybe I did cut a couple." Warrington says the lines in question did not bother him when he was in the show because they were "patently ridiculous". They should not be off limits now, he adds. "Plainly, Rigsby was… er… stupid," he says. "It's a period piece. It was set in its time and in its place. "It's remaining a period piece. Nobody is going to pretend it's now. These characters couldn't exist today so it's firmly set in the late '60s, early '70s. "People did hold the view that Rigsby holds, but I think we do have to, from time to time, revisit the past to see how we were then." Rising Damp is at the Blackpool Grand Theatre until 18 May. It then tours to Darlington, Salford, Malvern, Norwich, Sheffield, Woking, Bradford and Richmond.

Question: What was the name of the character played by Frances de la Tour in Rising Damp?
Answer: Miss Jones