Jimmy Ellis - An Actor's Life

As we know, this is a fellow, you know,

Pre-Mr Ray and Mr Neeson and Dunbar and all those people.

You were up there, that accent was on British television in a way it had never been before.

Let me tell you, Bob, I've been promoted.

To crime patrol.

Come on. Dirty great big Irish breakfast, that's what you want.

If you'll excuse me, I have to go to get some essence of goat.

I remember stories you used to tell, they would start on a Monday and finish on a Thursday.

He has a generosity of spirit

that one hopes all fine artists have but they don't.

But Jimmy has it in abundance.

If James Ellis is your friend, then you've found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

All along there, Helen's Bay, Bangor, Bangor West,

all places where I spent all my holidays in my childhood.

'One of the things I most admire about Jimmy is his love of Northern Ireland.'

He just sort of glows and puffs himself up at the mention

of Samson and Goliath and Cave Hill, the Albert Clock.

Samson and Goliath, isn't it? Is that right?

You've got me there with my eyesight, son.

Jimmy is never happier when you decide, "We won't fly back,

we'll drive, take the Liverpool boat and we'll go across."

And that to Jimmy is the proper way to return to Northern Ireland.

You have the wonderful sort of welcoming of Samson and Goliath, glowing daffodil yellow

in the mist, and you've got Victoria Park and you've got the hills of Belfast and so forth.

And you can actually see this light up in Jimmy's eyes.

He becomes alive when he comes back to Belfast.

"Homeward I crawl, a wretched prodigal, to bide a while

"and then again depart,

"to leave once more,

"once more to feel bereft, your picture album in my mental holdall,

"the hills of Antrim etched upon my heart.

"For truth to tell,

"I never really left."

To go back to the beginning,

the chance of my becoming an actor at all was trillions, trillions to one.

I was born in 1931 into the Depression years, into a working-class family.

Well, that's a bit of an exaggeration.

It was an unemployed-class family.

I wasn't even very good at joining in family entertainments.

My father loved to sing a song, my cousins would sing a song.

I had several cousins who played instruments but none of it landed on me.

I was so shy, I wouldn't get up and say a recitation even.

And it got so bad, I would run and hide under the stairs.

Anything rather than have to get up and say anything.

Or sing a song, oh, no. So I showed no promise at an early age.

Ah.

Present.

Just taking a walk down memory lane, darling.

'It's been well-documented,

'I think, in the press in Northern Ireland'

that Jimmy's had a bit of a blip with his ill health this last 12 months.

He's had a little stroke but it's not deprived him of any

of his vital faculties or any of the joy of speech.

He's had to spend a little while in hospital.

They've got the medication right and he's as good as new.

I like to use this space because it gives me a kind of sense of theatre.

A sort of small proscenium, so it helps me

transmit myself ahead into the theatre.

Did you see a young lad passing this way

in the early morning or the fall of night?

Did you see the young lad?

What kind was he?

An ugly young streeler with a murderous gob on him and a little switch in his hand.

I met a tramper who met him coming this way at the fall of night.

For what do I want him?

I want to destroy him for breaking the head on me

with the clout of a loy.

It was he did that

and amn't I the great wonder to have traced him ten days with that rent in my crown, hey?

What? What, what are you saying?

Torment him, is it?

And I who have to hold it out with the patience of a martyred saint.

Well, I'm driven out in my old age with none to aid me.

# Life goes on day after day... #

Memories,

memories.

It was early 1938, when I was just seven years old, that we travelled to Liverpool, where my father,

a sheet-metal worker, got work at Cammell Laird shipyard.

# ..cross the Mersey cos this land's the place I love

I remember going across with my father to cross the Mersey on the ferry, which was more

expensive than the train tunnel, but I used to hate going on the train.

I always wanted to go on the ferry.

# So ferry cross the Mersey... #

One thing I do remember later on in life

was my father couldn't afford to go into the Adelphi Hotel,

which was very smart, but he'd got himself turned out very nicely.

He'd got a nice suit on.

I went through the swing doors with my father

and I was taken down the stairs to this incredible palace of a place.

The lavatory downstairs with all wash hand basins and everything.

And my father said, "This is how the other half live, son."

Then he saw somebody polishing... A toff was having his shoes polished.

And he said to me,

"Never do that, son."

I said, "What was that, Father?"

"Never let another man polish your shoes," he said, "It's demeaning."

"You polish your shoes, no matter how well you do in life."

That stuck in my head.

After about a year across the water, we returned to 30 Park Avenue

in the shadow of Harland and Woolf which was a target for the German Luftwaffe.

It became the family home for the next half-century.

Let's go and have a look.

During the war,

it was a little, low-profit boarding house.

Servicemen stayed there.

I remember Aircraftsman Reynolds and Aircraftsman Thomas.

We had two American sailors, from North Dakota,

I remember, because I was interested in geography

and I asked them where they came from and they said, "We're from North Dakota."

And in the attic was Captain Nolan,

the air-raid warden for Dun Laoghaire up the road there.

As soon as the sirens started, he was up at his post.

He had come up from Dublin but he'd served in the British Army and fought in Gallipoli.

He was coming up to do his bit.

So the whole house was actually like a theatre in itself.

It was an extraordinary place for a little boy to grow up in

and it was from here that I went to Strand School down the road.

Well, Paul.

That's Strand Public Elementary School as I knew it.

I don't know how but I went to a decent little primary school, public elementary school as they

were called in those days, Strand primary, and I got

a scholarship, a city scholarship to Methodist and that changed my life.

I think, as far as I remember, we were the first lot of Belfast city scholars.

There were 200 scholarships and he got one, I got one.

And we started at Methodist together.

Me from the Ulmer Road, him from Sydenham.

The first time I was aware of him must have been that first term.

There was this very skinny,

slightly buck-toothed guy from Sydenham.

Not much has changed.

He didn't want to appear to be a swot, to be an intellectual, to know a lot.

I suppose because of his mates back in East Belfast.

He, Ken Jameson, Jimmy and I, our threesome, didn't see a lot of those guys.

But he would sometimes produce a facade

of being something of a scallywag, a bit of an idiot, you know.

And he would get himself off the hook and various scrapes that he'd get it into by acting this,

which he's really continued to do off and on all through his life.

-Well, look at that.

-This wasn't here in our day, was it, that bit.

-The roof was there.

-Look at that.

Heritage visitors' centre.

Well. This ought to bring back memories.

What was this?

-A school room or something, wasn't it?

-It must have been.

Jimmy, when he was very young, went to Methodist School.

And his mates, his peer group,

didn't particularly accept that.

Jimmy began acting by arriving home from Methodist and getting off

the bus and pretending that he didn't like going to Methodist.

Pretending that he didn't like this very academic exercise, complaining about the number of homeworks.

The reality is, Jimmy adored it, he adored translating the poetry of Ronsard,

he adored the discussions about the visual arts, about Cezanne and Monet and so forth.

Shall we sign the visitors' book?

We'll do that later.

I never thought the day would come that we'd be signing the visitors' book.

I went right through the sixth form, got a fantastic education

and that is where I picked up the French accent.

The teacher, who was so inspirational,

taught us and I mimicked him like a parrot, you know.

Comme on voit sur la branche au mois de Mai la rose

En sa belle jeunesse,

en sa premiere fleur. I'll never forget him.

Right, what did you find?

That's, that's you as the leading part.

That's right, yes, and where's Albert Jameson?

There's Albert Jameson,

in solitary state.

Wonderful! That's a part of a set the three of us did together.

Look at that. Yes, it is.

That's me as Dr Ford-Waterlow.

We had a dramatic society, which I joined a very reluctantly.

Three of us did the set for this.

Funnily enough, when I was on that stage,

I thought, "This is funny, I know all my lines."

the military people are laughing and my mother and father are out there.

And I thought, "I'm not doing too bad here."

I had wonderful make-up.

I've got a marvellous photograph.

Dr Ford-Waterlow. I don't know what I was doing, you know.

It was pretty dreadful but there you are, it was my blooding.

From there, I went to university.

I joined a dramatic society, which I thought would be great fun to do,

now that I had got the flavour for it.

I also was a bit short of money, a poor student,

got some parts at the Arts Theatre for two or three quid a week

and spent all my time doing that.

Jim Greene coped with it a bit but I couldn't cope with it at at all.

And I couldn't cope with concentrating on two things at once so I lost my scholarship.

And after that, to my utter amazement,

I was awarded the Tyrone Guthrie scholarship to Bristol Old Vic.

I couldn't believe it.

But I had something to tell my mother and father.

I had still no idea of becoming an actor but I thought, I can get away to Bristol

and say, you know, that I'm getting another scholarship.

My father was very pleased, "That's very good, is that what you want to do?"

I said, "Oh, well."

I didn't want to be an actor at all at that stage.

The first time I met him, he'd just won a scholarship to the Bristol Old Vic.

When I met him, I really didn't think

he had a future as an actor because the accent was so strong.

My accent

let me down. I'm going in to see if I could perhaps join a company, I went in,

"I just wondered, on the strength of what I have done, Mr Carey,

"if you've seen any of my work at the school or heard my..."

"Not with that accent, dear boy.

"I'm afraid not.

"I think your best chance of finding a start in the theatre is to go back to Ireland."

When I got back home to Belfast, I went to the Group Theatre

but it was taking you on on no money at all.

So I was offered this part and my heart sank.

I read the script and I was terrified.

To cut a long story short, nobody said anything but I was a total failure.

But JG Devlin went round and said,

to the boss,

"Right money, please."

He became a lifelong friend, JG Devlin.

A wonderful character, known in the business, known by everybody.

I miss him very much.

Devlin was a terrific man of the theatre.

And they just don't breed them that way any more.

I think Jimmy was a great favourite of his.

Jimmy and I, our lives have sort of intertwined

because I was instrumental in introducing him to his first wife,

Betty, Betty Hogg, who's now Beth Ellis.

Which was a pretty good marriage as long as it lasted.

When I think of Jimmy Ellis, I do think of him as this kind of idealistic

young man, coming back from England with a head full of ideas and ready to do some sort of good work,

to bring the Group Theatre back to its former glory,

and to give it a really vital place in the community again.

And in order to do that, Ellis thinks, I think,

he needs to start tackling some of the more contentious themes, if you like.

I suppose Over The Bridge turned out to be the most sensational play ever put on in Belfast.

Perhaps the most controversial,

powerful episode in the history of Northern Irish theatre,

to this day. And Jimmy Ellis made that happen, he was the centre of that.

Sam Thompson's play is basically about sectarianism within the trade union movement in the shipyard.

To actually put that sectarianism on stage shows a contentious event, potentially, for the state.

When Sam Thompson gives him the play, they agree to produce it, they cast it,

they hold a press launch to advertise that they're going to launch this play

and then the plug is pulled on it because they decide that this play is not appropriate.

The directors of the Group Theatre felt that the script

that they'd got from Sam Thompson was likely

to reawaken the sectarian antagonisms in the community.

It was about the shipyard and the relationships

of the communities within the shipyard.

And they, in fact, decided not to put on the play.

Tony Guthrie described it as censorship unofficial by the establishment.

I kept saying, "I don't think our board has the right to stop

"the Belfast public judging for itself whether the play is fit to be seen.

"If they don't think it's good, they'll judge with their feet."

Jimmy rang me up and sent me the script and I read it and I thought, "God, you could never do this.

"You couldn't do this in Belfast."

I said, "Jimmy, if we do it, do you think we'll get shot?"

And he said, "We'll take a chance," and he did, he took a tremendous chance.

It took great courage, really, to put on Over The Bridge.

They decided to stage it at the Empire Theatre of Varieties,

which is a big theatre, it's a big variety, music hall type theatre.

On the night of the premiere at the Empire Theatre,

there is a police presence and people aren't quite sure how the public are going to react to it.

But in the event, it's a huge success.

The opening night was incredible.

It was actually tingling with excitement and you peeped through the curtains and the whole stalls

was surrounded by B Specials, revolvers at the ready.

And we really did expect trouble.

-The result and the outcome of Over The Bridge was that the Ulster Group Theatre disintegrated.

-Yes.

There was a kind of diaspora of Ulster actors.

They went into television across the water and so on.

-Yes. They did very well.

-Yes indeed.

The Group Theatre as a building was taken over by Jimmy Young, who ran it as a kind of comedy theatre,

but the old tradition, the Group Theatre itself, foundered.

I crossed the Irish Sea,

with all that behind me, knowing that there was no future for me in the theatre in Belfast.

Jimmy did not leave Northern Ireland to pursue an acting career

anywhere else, Jimmy had no choice but to leave Northern Ireland.

Jimmy was not going to have any future in Northern Ireland after producing Over The Bridge,

because there was then, and there always has been,

a core of special interest groups at work in Northern Ireland that if you offend, the black mark

stains for quite some time. And Jimmy had offended.

Worse than offending, Jimmy had then gone and had a huge, popular, commercial success with the play.

And the future would have been a very bleak for him here in Northern Ireland.

So off Jimmy went to England and indeed, the rest is history.

After a few minor roles in things like Robin Hood and the title role in a play by a Stewart Love

called The Randy Dandy, my first real break came in 1961, when I was seen for a new crime series.

I went along and this producer was a very kindly looking man and he said,

"The first question I'd like to ask you is, can you do Liverpool Irish?"

I said, "I've heard this one before."

I said, "Do Liverpool Irish?

"I am Liverpool Irish."

This is remembering my childhood.

I said, "What's the name of the part?"

He said, "The part is McGinty."

I said, "It's a bit of a joke name, that, in Ireland," I said.

"Maybe it might be all right here but it's a bit stage Irish, you know, for a serious programme."

"Oh, dear,

"would you suggest something?" I said, "Something that sounds Irish,

"like Lynch, you know?"

"Lynch sounds good.

"Could you catch the next train to Liverpool?"

So that was how Z Cars started.

Well, ten o'clock and all is well.

Oh, dear, I'm off to my pit.

-Lynch.

-Yes, Sergeant Twentyman.

These fellows you caught in the van, I want a report.

All right, Sarge, tomorrow. And tomorrow and tomorrow.

Tonight, tonight and tonight.

Sarge, my shift finishes at ten.

You're a copper 24 hours a day, I want that report on the CID with full particulars, right.

-Sergeant Trentiman.

-What is it?

-There's a bundle at the tav.

At the tav? Get your car out.

I'll get my coat on, we'll get down there. Don't forget.

Come on, lads, let's have it!

Where do they get the money to drink of a Saturday night?

When they've drunk it all of a Friday?

It was supposed to run for six episodes, which I thought was wonderful.

If they thought it was successful, they might do another seven.

And I thought, "Whoa,

"what a job, this is lovely."

Z Cars was real and you could see that they had their faults.

And it was great to see a local fellow because Belfast wasn't really on the map in those days, you know.

The Northern Ireland accent warmed the cockles of your heart,

it really did, and that theme tune that they had, you know...

Z CARS THEME TUNE PLAYS

My mother and father were both very excited about him and they brought us down.

Something called Z Cars was starting on the television.

I remember the tune of it coming up and I remember them sitting down,

and they were waiting.

This was James Ellis, he was playing a policeman

and he had a Northern Ireland accent and, it was kind of like,

"Wow, he's a good policeman!"

And also he had our accent and our accent was so rare on television.

All right then, let's have your particulars.

Date of birth, place of birth and all the names you've used in your bent life.

Look mate, I'm telling you nothing.

-I know my rights.

-Particulars, Stiegen.

Mind, he's got a nasty temper.

Now listen, mate. I've done time for wounding policemen before.

And I'll do it again if you so much as touch me.

-Particulars, Stiegen.

-You interfering black enamel git!

Thanks to Jimmy actually,

the Ulster accent became known as the Ulster accent.

And I think he was the first actor

who really made it popular.

We were talking there about...

people who would go across, they would lose an accent.

-Some people would retain their accent, some people would lose it quite quick.

-You didn't.

I think, I've been living in London now longer than I lived at home.

Which is absurd to me, in a way, but I think subconsciously with me,

coming from Broughshane, moving to Coleraine, getting into acting, comes from my background.

I think subconsciously, I daren't have lost the accent.

That was my feeling exactly but don't forget, you're a brilliant actor, son.

-Oh, well...

-Don't forget.

But one of the things I do feel proud about was something much later that I did, Cold Feet,

was I felt that you were taking that accent

out of the context Northern Ireland was always associated with

and you were actually showing that there is a life outside of that.

There's personalities outside of that world. It was good to...

The only times you heard Northern Irish accents were in the news.

Yeah, but that's the way before my time. You never heard it at all.

You never heard Northern Ireland news until the troubles started.

I was over here long before the troubles.

-I played Z Cars for years

-You made it an awful lot easier for us, quite frankly,

and if you have any legacy, of which there will be much written about your many legacies,

you made it an awful lot easier for boys like me and Adrian and Liam

to settle in this world over here. So we're grateful to you.

And you were the first person to educate me about wine, my mother's never forgiven you!

You're not going to believe this but the furnished Z Car, during the rehearsal week,

that we got was two chairs like this, side by side.

And two big eejits in there, going...

Brrrrm! Brrrm!

Like two kids.

Or reaching over.

"Z Victor Two to BD."

When I think back, it was all so ridiculous.

But when we got in the studio, it was all very technical then.

Then we had a... Well, even then, we had a sort of cut out car, it wasn't a real car at all.

It was a sawn in half car

with that little back projection behind us.

Hello, Z Victor Two to BD.

-Z Victor Two, go ahead.

-Z Victor Two proceeding to Parkfield West,

pursuing enquiries.

-Z Victor Two, Roger.

-Here's a little memento,

although we didn't have it at rehearsal.

I've got it now, do you understand?

And I've got this original police whistle.

After 16 years, the series that put flesh on the television policeman,

and in the process took a bit of blood out of him, is coming to an end.

The Z Victors have finally become the losers in the battle of the telly cops.

It's a nostalgic time for Jimmy Ellis,

the actor who's put most of his professional life so far

into the colourful character of Bert Lynch.

There was a party when Z Cars finally ended

that involved, obviously, all the people. All the stars were there -

they gathered for this big party.

And as Jimmy says, everybody was kind of seeking to impress everybody else

as to what their next job was, and so-and-so was going to do something

with the Royal Shakespeare and so-and-so had a movie coming up.

Jimmy himself had heard there was a prospect of him taking part in a movie, in a big film.

So everybody knows what everybody else is pretending they're doing, whether it's true or not.

And there's a message for Jimmy that it's Hollywood on the line.

So he decides it's somebody winding him up. He paid no attention and carried on talking.

And the PA kept coming back saying, "Look, I've got Hollywood on the line."

"Yeah, yeah, you've got Hollywood on the line". He eventually says,

"All right, I'll take the phone." And he picks up the phone and a voice says, "Is that Mr Ellis?

"I'm running a church fete in Hollywood in the next few weeks,

and now that I hear you might be out of work, would you be free to come along and open it?"

# I remember the days Of just keeping time

# Of hanging around In sleepy towns forever

# Back roads empty for miles

# Well, you can't have a dream and cut it to fit

# But when I saw you, I knew

# We'd go together like a wink and a smile... #

We got married on 10th of January 1976, here in this village.

The village, of course, has never actually forgotten the wedding.

That's the funny part about it.

I sometimes get, "You were a handsome young man in those days".

I said, "Well, I'm not so young

and I wasn't as young as I looked, perhaps".

We were a handsome couple, that's what we were.

You were beautiful.

Thank you very much.

# We go together

# Like a wink and a smile. #

Z Cars ended in 1978.

I was virtually unemployable.

And suddenly I thought the only thing to do would be to get a stage place somewhere and hide.

That's the only thing you can do.

You don't get exposed on TV, you thought, "I'm in the West End."

And I got the part in Once A Catholic.

It ran for, in my case, a year.

Shortly after our son Toto was born in 1981,

I was cast as Vershinin

in Brian Friel's version of Chekhov's Three Sisters back in Ireland.

During the rehearsals of that,

towards the end of the rehearsals,

I had these two men turn up -

Chris Parr and Paul Seed.

And I didn't know who they were.

The Jimmy that I knew of then was the rather slim and always very affable Bert Lynch in Z Cars.

Well, firstly when I met Jimmy,

a much bigger man than the Bert Lynch that I remembered...

appeared.

So, my fears were allayed on that score.

And finally I plucked up courage and I said to him,

"Jimmy, this is a fighting man.

"Do you think you could play him convincingly?"

And Jimmy stared at me, clenched his fists and held them under my nose and he said...

"Well, what do you think, Chris?"

And I...

was convinced.

My image of Jimmy at that stage, 25 years,

I remember the beanpole sergeant in Z Cars.

And we were talking about this to Chris Parr and Paul Seed,

and I was saying, "Some of the hardest men I know, you'd think he'd blow them over".

You know, they don't have to be big.

But Jimmy had become physically big and physically impressive in that sense.

He knew the hard man scene because he was brought up in East Belfast

and he'd been around the pubs and the snooker halls.

And he knew you'd get a dig in the gob if you looked at the wrong person at the wrong time.

And this was part of what he brought to the Billy plays. He understood the subtext perfectly.

Take care of them for me, son.

This is the best way.

It's the only way.

Good luck, Da.

'The first day of rehearsal for the first Billy play'

I walked into the room, you were already there, you were early.

-You were already there.

-I was always early.

And I think I said hello.

But you then went into a story as if we had known each other for the previous 50 years.

And as far as I could tell, I didn't see you draw breath for about another hour and a half.

And I don't think for the first part of my professional career, I opened my mouth.

I just went, "Jesus, Jimmy hasn't finished yet! He hasn't finished!"

And you were being very cute, as my mother would say.

It was all by way of an illustration for Paul Seed about something very particular in the scene you wanted.

'I remember telling my granny I was acting with Jimmy Ellis. And I thought she was going to faint.'

It was like a hearthrob to her. "Jimmy Ellis from Z Cars?!

"I can't believe it!"

'When I did the first Billy play I was only nine,

'and I didn't realise how well known and famous Jimmy Ellis was.'

And it sort of went over my head a lot.

What surprised me was he had so much time for me and Tracy.

-He had no choice!

-Well, maybe he didn't, but he was just such a father figure to us and he looked

after us, and he had sweets for us and he didn't mind us crawling all over him like monkeys every day.

He's just such a lovely man and that's what I always remember.

-Dad?

-I said a half a cup.

That's three quarters.

-What?

-Can Billy come back?

I told you, I'm going.

After that you and him's in charge.

He'll have to come back to collect some clothes, but I'd like him back.

'We were all starting out for the first time.

'Well, the three of us were anyway, and Ken was as well.

'Jimmy had just so much television experience.'

Does he still fart and blame it on the cat?

But he didn't pass it on in a way that was ever patronising.

-No, he was never a diva.

-Never.

It was always about helping you and helping the actual piece.

Take care of yourself, Da.

I'm only going to the bloody shipyard,

not the Western Front.

The scene where she's crying. Do you remember you crying?

It was the whole scene where he roughs up Colm Convey

and throws him out.

Your ma can't talk about nobody.

She serviced half the American fleet in her day.

I suppose that's where you got your yellow streak from, eh?

You tell her if she ever talks about my wife again, I'll smash her brains all over the nearest wall!

You tell her my wife's a lady compared with her.

You tell her my wife's near dead and she's still a better looking woman than her.

You tell your old bitch that!

Quickly!

Oh, that's right, the big bad wolf's here.

You chase the kiddies off to bed.

You're just like your ma.

-It's late, dad.

-"It's late, dad!"

Damn the late!

I'm their father. Why did you make me say I wasn't, because I am?

They're mine! My kids!

I pulled the tablecloth away.

I was raging and bawling.

And Brid Brennan was standing at the end of the table and the little ones ran up the stairs in fear.

And he yelled, "I want my children to kiss me night, night".

"I want my children to kiss me night, night".

And I thought, that wasn't bad, I thought to myself inside.

-It's bound to be, "Shall we do it again?"

-Yeah, yeah, yeah.

And I went over. Excuse me, I'm not going to do it to you.

But between the banisters, I grabbed the banisters and I started to shake them.

And a little face came in...

-Stop bloody crying!

-Leave them alone and let them go to bed!

-Don't you tell me what to do!

I'm sick of you telling me what to do!

GIRL SOBS

Goodnight daddy.

At the time, I just cracked up.

I cracked up because they were such lovely kids.

I cracked up... The tears are in my eyes still remembering it.

I cracked up and went...

Collapsed in a heap.

Sit down, Da.

'We looked at each other.

'And I said, had I done something wrong, why you crying for?

'He was so emotionally involved. He was shaking and crying.'

Paul Seed, the director, had to come over and hold him.

I kept saying, "What are you crying for? What have I done wrong?"

But it was just really,

the whole emotion of it overwhelmed.

I suppose that was what the Billy plays were about, it was such a powerful piece.

And Jimmy was the real central figure.

He gelled everything together.

-Are you all right?

-I'm fine.

I've never known an actor with a track record like Jimmy Ellis, so little ego.

There's no ego there at all, it's quite surprising.

I mean, maybe in his bathroom in the mirror,

but there's no ego-trip,

-no nonsense tantrums.

-Come on!

Dirty you great big Irish breakfast, that's what you want.

Soda bread, tattie bread,

-egg, bacon, sausage. Smothered with that much sauce it will make your eyes water.

-Sounds revolting!

Come on.

More than just the old rose-tinted spectacles, there was something about those plays, wasn't there?

There was a kind of a fire in the belly of them.

I remember when the first one went out, I was buying a cup of tea the next day in London.

A woman said to me...she happened to be from Leeds. I remember.

But she said, "Yes, I really loved that, just like up north as well."

-I got a lot of that.

-There was a connection.

-A tremendous connection.

-The end of a certain kind of working-class life.

I don't think they realised.

I got stopped by four lads who tried to take me off for a drink.

"'Ere, you're just like my dad."

And the other one's going, "Hey, you're like my dad."

"You're just like my dad."

"Are you coming for a drink?" They all grabbed me. And it was the middle of the day.

And I thought,

"I've got to go with these lads," you know.

I was offered a very small part in Boys From the Blackstuff.

I read the part, discovered it was right up my street.

I thought, this is just me to a T.

Hey, pop!

You! Jimmy!

'I wasn't expecting... It was a great opportunity for me'

because it was a great chance to do a showing off part.

Don't I know you from somewhere?

I'm...

I'm...

I'm wet.

It's the climate, son.

I wish I was dead.

It's this city, man.

It's nae use.

'I have met a few winos in my time.

'I've even talked to them.

'As an actor, I'll talk to anybody, and I make it my business.'

I talked to somebody the other day who was talking to me, and I said, "I know you're studying me."

I said, "You don't know I'm studying you."

"Oh, why is that?" I said, "I study everybody.

"Because I'm an actor."

Don't be in there.

If you smash a window you get a cell for the night.

You get the evening as well.

It's dry in a cell. Nae more rain.

HE SINGS DRUNKENLY

ALARM BELL RINGS

That was MA windae!

We had the awful tragedy of Adams's death

on the 25th August, 1988.

My eldest son Adam was...

..for want a better word...

the newspapers called it "mugged",

but he was stabbed, murdered.

I think initially Jimmy felt that perhaps it was meant for him,

because the man who murdered him was from Cork.

And Jimmy thought it was something to do with Irish politics involved, which was totally wrong actually.

This guy had been boasting to his friends that he'd kill someone

and none of them believed him, so he set out to prove it.

And he was trying to mug Adam who was fishing by the canal.

He only had a couple of shillings on him, and this guy had a sock full of sand.

And he battered him. And Jimmy be said, "I'll tell you about it some time, Graham, it was terrible."

He said, "I was so angry, I used to go to where Adam's body was found

"and they still had the chalk marks on the ground of the body.

"I went into the local pubs and I just kicked the doors open.

"I'd go to the bar and just scatter everything."

And he said, "I wanted someone to say something or do something.

"I'd have killed them."

He said, "I came out one night and I was walking long, and somebody

grabbed me, turned me around and threw me against the wall.

It was a big policeman. And he said, "Do you want to know how your son died?

I'll tell you how your bloody son died, I'll show you where he died."

He said, "They dragged him down the canal and they stood there where chalk marks were still,

"and he told me exactly what had happened."

And he said, "There's nothing you could do to change that, Jimmy."

And so it was one of those...

life-changing experiences for Jimmy, I feel.

Everybody has tragedies in their life.

Anybody else...

It's not alone...

for one person...

to suffer disasters.

There are many people...

who my heart goes out to.

It happens every day.

It's just, when it happens to you,

it seems to destroy your universe.

'The family were devastated,

'and Robina came to the rescue.'

And since that moment,

we are one family.

My first wife calls Robina, Saint Robina!

So, it's lovely to have a family around you one more time.

It makes me a very happy man.

Mandy rang, Jimmy, to say they'd all got back from holiday safe and sound.

Well, where was I?

Obviously, the way,

the effect of that on his life was extraordinary and it's one of those

things that I know you either don't come back from, or something

inside you again comes to meet you and you can get over,

get on to another level with that.

And I think it's certainly also made him acutely aware.

It's the moment when he obviously became a poet.

Because I do think poetry is the language of shock.

His book comes out. And this is a major thing.

And he's dedicated a poem to my father in the book, and he invites him to the launch.

In fact, it's here in Belfast.

And at this stage, diabetes has affected my dad and he can't read, and he can't see very well.

Obviously my mother and father were invited.

So they declined and said it was for health reasons.

And what happened was, on this day, and this is an extraordinary day for Jimmy, this is like...

He wasn't young. If you think of all the events that led up to that,

he actually has this day in the book,

the book launch of Domestic Flight, and I didn't know this, but he had dedicated a poem to my father.

So what did Jimmy do?

On the day of the launch, he gets in a taxi and comes to the house here to the parlour.

And he reads the poem to him, that he's dedicated to him, Over The Bridge.

And it's...

..it's the kindness of that. It's the fact that it's his day.

And this is really hard for me because I'm a writer, selfishly, I wouldn't have done that.

I haven't done that. I mean, to do that, that major... I mean, it was his book of poetry,

his first publication and he does that

and he comes up here to the sitting room and he reads from the poetry.

Jimmy's really an intellectual.

There's a Beckett poem,

I think it was written in French, and then Beckett himself

translated it into English, and when they did the Beckett...

anniversary, it was Jimmy's translation,

which was slightly different from Sam's own, that was chosen.

So he's not, you know...

He's a Renaissance man really.

Other things I've done, of course, are One By One.

I could talk about that for hours.

One By One was all about animals.

And I had a wonderful time doing it and I've met everything.

I've made friends with a gorilla.

And my pal the orang-utan.

Working with Jimmy is a real joy.

I mean,

he's a fantastic actor.

A true professional. I mean, doing scenes and playing the field,

we had some specifically

quite serious scenes to do.

And Jimmy can really switch it on and turn it on.

It's easy to work with him because he's so accomplished.

There you are now, Mother.

It'll be a change of scenery for you.

I'd be better off in my bed.

But you've gotta get out of that bedroom some time.

We'll be able to sit together and watch the telly.

And I won't have to be up and down the stairs so much.

RANDOM NOTES PLAY TUNELESSLY, BARKING

I remember leaving set and saying to people, I've really learnt quite a lot today and that's great.

You can just watch and learn.

Genuinely. And with all that wonderful experience,

he's a fine actor.

Well I've known Jimmy Ellis as an actor for a long time,

since I was a very young child from seeing him on TV.

I did think of him in my very young youth as an uncle of mine.

He looked like an uncle and spoke like an uncle of mine on television.

I was delighted when he turned up in Ballykissangel to play my uncle.

And I'd said I'll introduce myself and I couldn't.

I bottled because I was too

afraid because he was such a hero of mine.

Because Jimmy has always been considered

as theatrical and acting royalty.

Then he came and introduced himself to me as if he'd known me all my life. He'd even done his research

where he knew stuff about my family from talking about me before he got to the set.

-Goodnight Irene!

-Hiya.

H-i-i-i...Hiya!

H-i-i-i...Hiya!

H-i-i-i-i-i...Hiya!

Perhaps he said...

-It must be Latin.

-Jabba, jabba, jabba, jabba, jabba.

Jabba, jabba.

'I worked with him for quite a bit after Bally K and recently on

'a short film that he adapted from a short story called The Devil.

'And discovered in the course of that that Jimmy had been a French student as I had been,'

but unlike me, Jimmy had graduated with 100% in his French exams,

which sickened my happiness cos I didn't do anything like as well.

But it explains a lot about the man as a writer and poet and a wordsmith

and about how well he used those skills.

To be,

or not to be:

that is the question.

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,

And by opposing,

end them?

To die.

To sleep.

No more.

And by a sleep to say we end

The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to,

'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd.

To die, to sleep.

To sleep,

perchance to dream.

Ay, there's the rub.

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

Must give us pause.

There's the respect

That makes calamity of so long life.

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time?

The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely?

The pangs of despis'd love,

the law's delay?

The insolence of office and the spurns

That patient merit of the unworthy takes?

When he himself might his quietus make

With a bare bodkin?

Who would fardels bear...

And so on.

Anywhere you go where you use the name Jimmy Ellis, is immediately,

it's like a cosmic pass into any circle or any situation.

There is such a wealth of goodwill for Jimmy, it's extraordinary.

I don't know anybody else like him

who carries that wonderful passport.

He had a word for everybody, as I say, over here, you know?

If you walked on the street in Belfast with Jimmy everybody knows him and he stops with every person.

I think he sort of exudes

the confidence in, he's never going to not be there for you.

I tell you a marvellous thing about Jimmy is this,

he's one of those people that if you see him, your heart gives a lift.

He's a real life enhancer, Jimmy Ellis.

And please, God, may he get on for a long time more.

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd, 2006

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