THE intention was to make him a capitalist bully-boy —which is what I mostly play these days,’ says actor Simon Williams of Justin Elliott, whom he has been playing, with great success, in The Archers since 2014.
Anyone less like the character would be hard to imagine. It’s true Mr Williams lives in a comfortable farmhouse on the large Nettlebed estate in south Oxfordshire, which his wife, the actress Lucy Fleming, co-owns with her sister, Kate, but he’s self-deprecating about his career, involved with numerous charities and exudes affability and charm. ‘In the life/work balance,’ he admits, ‘I’ve always erred on the side of life.’ That may be true, but The Archers is a crucial strand in his existence. ‘It’s a great job, because, being radio, you don’t have to shave, pull your stomach in or learn the lines,’ he points out. ‘It also has a nice rhythm to it. We record four a day for seven days once a month and I’m able to commute up the M40 to Birmingham listening to audio-books in my car.
‘When I joined, there had just been a domestic-abuse scandal and they were looking for a new villain. As the boss of a private-equity company and a property developer, my character was an obvious fall guy, but I try to play Justin as sweetly, gently and inoffensively as possible. As an actor, you’re always fighting to make unloveable characters more human, but, now that Jeremy Howe has taken over as editor, I suspect a more ruthless, steely side will start to emerge.’
Denne historien er fra April 15, 2020-utgaven av Country Life UK.
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Denne historien er fra April 15, 2020-utgaven av Country Life UK.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
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Save our family farms
IT Tremains to be seen whether the Government will listen to the more than 20,000 farming people who thronged Whitehall in central London on November 19 to protest against changes to inheritance tax that could destroy countless family farms, but the impact of the good-hearted, sombre crowds was immediate and positive.
A very good dog
THE Spanish Pointer (1766–68) by Stubbs, a landmark painting in that it is the artist’s first depiction of a dog, has only been exhibited once in the 250 years since it was painted.
The great astral sneeze
Aurora Borealis, linked to celestial reindeer, firefoxes and assassinations, is one of Nature's most mesmerising, if fickle displays and has made headlines this year. Harry Pearson finds out why
'What a good boy am I'
We think of them as the stuff of childhood, but nursery rhymes such as Little Jack Horner tell tales of decidedly adult carryings-on, discovers Ian Morton
Forever a chorister
The music-and way of living-of the cabaret performer Kit Hesketh-Harvey was rooted in his upbringing as a cathedral chorister, as his sister, Sarah Sands, discovered after his death
Best of British
In this collection of short (5,000-6,000-word) pen portraits, writes the author, 'I wanted to present a number of \"Great British Commanders\" as individuals; not because I am a devotee of the \"great man, or woman, school of history\", but simply because the task is interesting.' It is, and so are Michael Clarke's choices.
Old habits die hard
Once an antique dealer, always an antique dealer, even well into retirement age, as a crop of interesting sales past and future proves
It takes the biscuit
Biscuit tins, with their whimsical shapes and delightful motifs, spark nostalgic memories of grandmother's sweet tea, but they are a remarkably recent invention. Matthew Dennison pays tribute to the ingenious Victorians who devised them
It's always darkest before the dawn
After witnessing a particularly lacklustre and insipid dawn on a leaden November day, John Lewis-Stempel takes solace in the fleeting appearance of a rare black fox and a kestrel in hot pursuit of a pipistrelle bat
Tarrying in the mulberry shade
On a visit to the Gainsborough Museum in Sudbury, Suffolk, in August, I lost my husband for half an hour and began to get nervous. Fortunately, an attendant had spotted him vanishing under the cloak of the old mulberry tree in the garden.
