He is a veteran of British sitcom, but Geoffrey Palmer didn't have to stretch his acting abilities too far for his latest role as Grandpa Donald in The Savages. For in real life he likes nothing better than playing the doting grandfather.
And the man famous for gruff, insensitive types in such hit series as Butterflies, As Time Goes By and The Rise And Fall Of Reginald Perrin, was moved to tears when he first clapped eyes on his newborn grandson Bill, 18 months ago.
"I simply saw this little baby out of the corner of my eye, lying in the middle of this great, big bed, and I broke down," recalls Geoffrey, 73. "I was so surprised at what happened, I tried to analyse it afterwards. And there was no logical explanation. There are pictures of my wife Sally and I, with our son Charles, his wife Claire and Bill, with tears rolling down our cheeks.
"It was extraordinary, although not because I don't normally cry. The truth is I cry at all sorts of things. I cried at The Jolson Story when I saw it at the pictures. No, it was just the sheer surprise of shedding tears in that particular situation."
Geoffrey's new-found status as a grandad was firmly in his mind while filming The Savages. The sitcom, written by Men Behaving Badly creator Simon Nye, revolves around the chaotic lives of Adam and Jessica who are juggling careers with parenthood. Geoffrey plays Adam's father Donald, who lives over the road and pops in to add to the chaos. It's the kind of domestic muddle that was only too familiar to him as a struggling actor 30 years ago.
Suddenly, from going out with a girl and having leisurely drinks with friends, my life was turned upside down by getting married and having children," says Geoffrey, who has been married to Sally for 37 years. They also have a grown-up daughter, Harriet. "I remember this feeling of absolute exhaustion when the children were waking up in the middle of the night, every night. Luckily, Sally was very good at getting up. I used to pretend I was asleep quite a bit of the time..."
On first meeting, you could be forgiven for thinking that Geoffrey is interchangeable with the characters he plays. There's a hint of awkwardness as he offers you a chocolate biscuit which reminds you of Uncle Jimmy in The Fall And Rise Of Reginald Perrin. And his friendly yet formal manner also puts you in mind of Ben the dentist in Butterflies. But as he talks with warmth and enthusiasm about the subjects dear to his heart, a chasm opens up between him and the stuffy, emotional retards that have made him a household name. Get him talking about fly-fishing, for instance, and Geoffrey glows as he explains why he loves it so much.
Not that we will get to see this side of him. True to form, there is no chance of Donald appearing keen or shedding tears in The Savages. Indeed, he takes putting on a brave face to new extremes by refusing to admit that his wife has left him for a younger man.
"Donald pretends she's dead - anything rather than admit what happened," he says.
It's another hit for an actor who has chalked up a remarkable number of appearances in successful comedies. His CV includes Fairly Secret Army, Hot Metal, Executive Stress and a guest spot in Fawlty Towers, but of them all Geoffrey reckons Reginald Perrin takes some beating - even if its star, the late Leonard Rossiter was a difficult man to work with.
"Leonard was a perfectionist who demanded perfection from those around him," he recalls. "During the first series he told me that the way I was playing Jimmy wouldn't work, that I wouldn't get any laughs. But he was absolutely right. The more I worked with him the more I respected him. He was a comedy genius."
After pausing to reflect on those days, the man known for his acerbic comments on screen returns to the subject that is dearest to his head, his family.
"Being in The Savages has made me realise how I couldn't possibly be without my children now," he says. "Not to have had children would have been dreadful and I feel terribly sorry for people who don't have them and for women who can't have them.
"As for being a grandfather, well, that's something else again. With Charles and Harriet, I worried about being able to provide for them financially, about having read the right books on childcare, about being able to change nappies. But with a grandchild, the responsibility is no longer yours. It's all pride and joy - with the occasional stint of babysitting thrown in."
See, he's not such an old savage after all.
Thanks to Maree Wilson for sending me this article which appeared in the The Mirror (UK) on May 12, 2001.