One
of the first records I ever owned was Cilla Black’s Anyone Who Had a Heart, and
her cover of the Burt Bacharach song, originally sung by Dionne Warwick, was
one of the most treasured in my collection. It still is. At the age of six and
unable to build a music collection on my meagre pocket money, my parents
donated a portion of their stash of vinyl when they bought me my first record
player.
I used to stand in front of the mirror with the microphone from my parents’ tape recorder (which, in those days, was the size of a small house) and sing to the 45rpm discs. Even to this day, I can remember the words to every song Cilla ever sang. How I wanted to be her. Pop star at the top of the charts and, four years after Anyone Who Had a Heart became her first number one hit (1964), on the telly, too. Life didn’t get more glamorous than that.
Clearly, not for my mother, either. When we moved to Bridgend in 1969 and I began life at the quiet school in Coity village, my mother sent me out on my first day in a psychedelic crimplene dress and a cow-bell on a rope around my neck. I was Cilla and Lulu all rolled into one. Unfortunately, the other girls in my class were Vera Lynn (Incidentally, years later, she decided to give me a Michael Jackson style perm to be “trendy”. That was another miserable day in school, I can tell you).
The Sixties is the decade that everyone really wishes they had lived through as a teenager, and the first episode in ITV’s three-parter, Cilla, on Monday night, reinforced that desire. As we saw the teenage Liverpudlian - bubbly, fun-loving and a wannabe singer - hanging out with her mates at the famous Cavern Club (amongst others), where The Beatles began their careers, you could only envy the excitement that was palpable in the dawn of a new age. Bob Dylan was right: the times were certainly a’changin’, and everything about this production breathes the excitement of that.
It was also a time when wannabes had to make stars of themselves, rather than come up through the system of reality TV shows (not that I am wholeheartedly criticising that; The X Factor has produced some real talent). Cilla had talent by the bucket-load, but she also had the drive and ambition to realise it. I have always been a huge fan of hers, and this particular aspect of the story – an ambitious woman in a tough man’s world and the toughest business – I find fascinating and it will be a revelation to viewers.
It’s hard to know where to begin commenting on a TV drama that is faultless in every respect. Jeff Pope’s subtle script exquisitely captures this moment in history, the like of which we will never see again. I won’t spoil the next two episodes, but overall, he tackles big themes – love, ambition, loyalty, homosexuality, religion (the Protestant/Catholic rivalry in Sixties Liverpool was another revelation for me) – without ever resorting to rhetoric to get the message across. He is one of those great writers who shows, rather than tells, which is why each of his characters have such distinctive voices that could belong to no one else: we see and hear the story through their eyes and ears.
Sheridan Smith’s performance as Cilla is nothing short of genius, and she has a versatility in her work that very few of her generation (or few people generally, come to that) have. Her voice is sensational and as close as you could get to the real thing without actually being Cilla; not for a moment on Monday did I believe it was not Cilla herself. And it wasn't just the singing: it was tiny facial expressions, small movements, intonations of voice that went way beyond accent. Sheridan doesn't act out parts; she inhabits characters, and that is what makes her great.
I have always been a fan of Sheridan's as well as of Cilla's, and it is a joy to see her grow in standing on the strength of her immense talent and hard work. It is difficult to believe that this is the woman who rose to prominence through sitcom (Two Pints of Lager and a Packet of Crisps, Gavin and Stacey) and went on to play Mrs Biggs, wife of the train robber (for which she won a Bafta).
This, too is an award winning performance; the fact that she is a 33 year old playing a teenager is a feat in itself. In fact, they should all be dusting down their mantelpieces in preparation for the flurry of awards I have no doubt will come.
Sheridan is surrounded by an incredibly strong cast, too. Cilla’s parents are played by the always compelling Melanie Hill and John Henshaw (one of my favourite actors and hilarious at so many moments throughout – and sweetly touching). Aneurin Barnard as the young, love-struck, baker-boy Bobby, is glorious as the kid as focused on romance as Cilla is on success. And, to come, we will see a beautifully poised and heartbreaking performance from Ed Stoppard as Cilla’s manager and mentor, Brian Epstein.
The direction, like the writing, is expertly understated and subtle, with finely tuned highs and lows creating a sense of a real life in progress, rather than a glossy, sanitised, fictionalised version of something with which we are vaguely familiar.
And the lighting is sublime: every shadow and glow adding to the mix that so perfectly captures the essence of the times: hope, expectation, the belief that there was something better.
Of course, we know that Cilla went on to be the highest paid woman in TV history when she hosted Blind Date and Surprise, Surprise. But everyone has a history, and this one is more interesting than most. Way more.
Not only is the drama Cilla a tribute to, and celebration of the much loved star, it is also a tribute to Bobby, her great love, and professional and personal rock until his death in 1999. Cilla is, as much as everything else, a love story, and one I am sure the real Bobby would love to have seen captured on screen.
It is the first direct involvement in a drama of this kind for Cilla’s eldest son, Robert, who is Executive Producer (with Jeff Pope). He, along with producer Kwadjo Dajan and everyone else – Cilla herself included – can feel very proud of their achievement. It really is one of the best dramas you will ever see.
Seriously. Ever.
