This article was originally published in The Dundee Courier on 30th July 2016.
Keith Richards: The
Origins of the Species: Saturday, BBC Two
The Marvellous World
of Roald Dahl: Saturday, BBC Two
Keith
Richards and Roald Dahl: together at last! They may not seem like natural
bedfellows, but during last Saturday’s generous documentary double-bill, it struck
me that both were natural-born storytellers and nonconformists who have
enriched our lives immeasurably.
If
you had to define the essence of Keith – eau de Keef - then look no further
than the moment in Keith Richards: The
Origins of the Species when he recounted a charming childhood memory of his
visits to Dartford marshes.
“I
saw my first dead man there,” he noted. That faux-casual use of “first”, as if
it was merely a throwaway detail, spoke volumes about a man who understands his
own myth.
This
entertaining hour in the company of one of rock’s great raconteurs was a
Rolling Stones documentary with a difference: it ended at the point where the
band were about to form.
It
focused instead on The Human Riff’s formative years in monochrome, bombsite
Dartford, told in his own colourful words. It also functioned as an
iconoclastic piece of post-war social history. A keen history buff with a
distinctive eye for detail, Keith should have his own BBC Four series by now.
If they don’t hurry up, Channel 4 will poach him as the new host of Time Team.
Despite
his legendary intake of Bad Things, his memory is remarkably lucid. Reliably
funny and engaging – your cup would runneth over with joie de vivre if you’d
survived what he has – he told his story with a throaty mix of wry nostalgia and genuine warmth,
especially when discussing his family.
Julien
Temple, a director famed for such classic documentaries as The Filth and The Fury, bolstered Keith’s anecdotes in typically
inventive style with an eclectic collage of archive footage scored to Stones
music and period pop hits. His camera revelled in the lizard-like contours of
rock’s craggiest visage. That nicotine cackle and woozy grin were in full,
glorious effect.
When
infant Keith’s England was being bombed during the war, Roald Dahl was
protecting it as an RAF pilot. The
Marvellous World of Roald Dahl began with him crashing his plane in Africa.
He was lucky to survive. A life-changing incident, it inspired his first piece
of published writing. He frequently returned to the magic and terror of flight.
As
this fascinating and touching essay made clear, all of Dahl’s classic yarns
contained elements of autobiography. Childhood encounters with vicious adults,
the tragic loss of comrades during the war, even his own wife’s stroke – her
mangled language inspired The BFG –
all found their way into his work. Yet he incorporated these dark matters with
such sensitivity, they never felt ghoulish.
Told
using extracts from his memoirs, as read by Robert Lindsay and illustrated by the
great Quentin Blake, it confirmed my belief that the most beloved children’s
author of all time – face facts, Walliams – was one of the greatest literary
geniuses of the 20th century.
He
understood implicitly that children love reading about frightening things, just
as long as the author lightens the darkness with humour.
He
endured the horrors of war. His survivor’s guilt inspired him to write about
children who’d lost their parents. One of his daughters died when she was only seven.
When his young son had a severe brain injury, he co-invented a valve to
alleviate his condition. Several thousand other children benefited from this
invention, which was never sold for profit.
An
extraordinary man. A kindly subversive. Keith and Roald both.
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