Paul O'Grady - Memorable TV Interviews

UK... The New Paul O’Grady Show is on Channel 4 every weekday at 5pm

Paul O’Grady is not what you would call quiet. Sitting waiting to interview him in the elegant surroundings of a plush, boutique London hotel, the noise of the traffic and the city going about its hectic business is drowned out entirely by the familiar Birkenhead brogue that comes thundering out of the next door room. No other voice is audible, there seem to be no gaps between O’Grady’s monologues, and when I’m finally ushered in, he’s sitting alone, giving the disturbing impression that he’s in there on his own shouting at the walls. Thankfully, there’s another door, out of which he assures me a previous interviewer has left, quite possibly to go and have eardrum replacement surgery.

Paul O’Grady, it turns out, is as boring as he is quiet. Once he’s started, there’s no stopping him – the wit, the acid barbs and the (frequently self-deprecating) put downs flow freely. Little wonder he’s now one of the jewels in the daytime TV crown, with his new show launching on Channel 4 this spring.

O’Grady, who suffered a heart attack in 2002, is surprisingly healthy looking, tanned and athletic, and an imposing 6’2” tall. His manner is warm and conspiratorial, and he sits sipping tea and smoking Benson & Hedges between enthusiastically-bellowed answers.

You’ve had some pretty extraordinary jobs in your time, haven’t you? Cleo Laine’s cleaner, an abattoir worker, a waiter in a brothel in Manila.
I only cleaned for Cleo Laine once. I worked for a cleaning agency, you see – she was just a one-off client. I did Margot Fontaine and all, and W H Auden. I didn’t know at the time. So I only ever cleaned her flat once, and I never saw her. In the abattoir I worked in the offices. I hated it, but it was the only job I could get at the time.

And how did you end up in the Filipino brothel?
Gussy’s was a jazz bar, and I started off by going in to have a drink. All the clubs in the Far East then used to have the ‘comfort rooms’ upstairs – it was when all the GIs were in Manila. But it wasn’t all exploitation then, they were all fairly mature women, quite a lot of them Westerners as well. So I got a job as a waiter in there, ‘cos I got on well with them all.

Being a gay man working in a bar frequented by American GIs – didn’t they give you a hard time?
They were fabulous. They were always at me, trying to get me up in the comfort rooms. I’d say ‘You couldn’t afford me. Here, Popeye, drink that.’ No, I’ve never had a problem from people for being gay. I was reading that stuff in the paper today about the BBC having to have a certain number of gay people on, and you just think ‘I could think of millions of gays on telly.’ The sad thing is half of them aren’t out. In fact, if you were to take the gay element away from television you’d find it sadly depleted. There’d be nobody in the building.

Where did Lily Savage come from?
She was never really based on anyone. I think I sort of absorbed pieces of my Auntie, pieces of my mum, pieces of women I’d looked after or worked with in Social Services, prossies I’d worked with, strippers I knew, and then bits of Marlene Dietrich. Lily’s totally fictional – nobody carries on like that – surely they don’t. She was just a big cartoon, drawn by hand and executed by me.

Do you miss her?
No, I don’t, because I always hated the dressing up. I loathed it. I hate make up, I can’t stand wearing make up. Lipstick freaks me out. I used to hate it. I never used to eat as Lily – once the lippy went on, to eat a sandwich was horrible. It’s no place for sissies, drag. Because you’ve got all the corsets, the heels, the nails, three pairs of tights so you don’t have to shave your legs, mortician’s wax to block out your eyebrows. It was so heavy and uncomfortable. I used to loathe it.

So she’ll never grace our screens again?
No, I shouldn’t think so. I might do a panto as her, but even then, I think now at 50, stood there in a mini-skirt at 50 years of age, with me handbag hanging and a fag on, I’m not sure. I don’t know. She’s not necessarily finished for good, never say never. I could pack the bag and do the act tonight if I wanted to. I didn’t dump her when she was on the skids, Lily went out on a high. It was scary. Lynda La Plante said to me I was killing the goose that laid the golden egg, and it really was a worry, getting rid of something that was so successful, but I thought ‘No, I’m sorry, I don’t want to be doing it for the rest of my life. I don’t want to be a bloody 90-year-old drag queen.’

You now live on a farm in Kent. Is that indicative of you toning down your lifestyle?
Not really. It’s more because when I was a kid I used to go over to Ireland a lot, to my dad’s family. And they were farming folk. So I knew everything I was doing when I bought my livestock. I knew how to milk a cow, how to care for chickens and sheep and pigs. It was second nature to me.

So it’s an actual working livestock farm?
Oh it’s an actual farm all right. Nothing gets sold to the abattoir, though. They’re all pets. Ex-battery hens, my geese, who I love. They’re vicious. They’re called the Geestapo. The big goose is called the Fuhrer, and his girlfriend is Eva Braun. They’re so vicious, I love them. I like being surrounded by the animals, I find it very soothing.

Have you cut back on your lifestyle since your heart attack?
Oh yeah. It was a mixture of that and just thinking ‘I’ve done this, I can’t be bothered any more.’ I’ve spent my entire working life as Lily in clubs and pubs, so that went hand-in-hand with the lifestyle. There’s not a city in this country where I don’t know at least ten publicans. But the hours are a killer. And I find I’ve just lost the taste for booze. I wish it was the same with the bloody ciggies. If I go to an awards ceremony I always get hammered, because the food’s crap and there are so many people you know, and you get excited. And before you realise it you’ve had a bottle of red wine. But I’ve never drunk in the day, and I’ve never drunk at home. That was my dad, he’d say ‘If you want a drink, get out and have one. You don’t sit in the house and drink’. And it’s never left me, that.

Having left Lily behind, you surprised everyone by starting a chat show. How did that come about?
It was sort of a mistake, really. I took over from Des O’Connor for a bit on Des and Mel, when he was on holiday, and had a ball. So I said I’d quite like to do something like that. We pitched ITV who commissioned it, although they said we had to make it with Granada, rather than independently, which is what we wanted. And we did it for eight weeks – I thought I’d do the eight weeks, it’d be handy money for Christmas, and that would be it. ‘Cos I got the impression that they weren’t that interested, which I think was true at first. They thought I’d swear at tea time and talk about overtly gay things, which I don’t – it’s never been the act or the personality. And I’ve never sworn on live telly, ever. It’s just prejudice you’re up against. So then it gets successful, and suddenly you’re the best thing since sliced bread.

It certainly was successful – culminating in you winning a BAFTA for Best Entertainment Performance.
That was huge, yeah. I nearly died. I’ve never been so quiet. I sat there, I couldn’t believe it. I genuinely thought they’d used me as a stocking-filler. You know, needing another name to make up the numbers. ‘Oh Paul O’Grady, we’ll shove him in’. ‘Cos it’s happened to me so many times, I’ve been nominated so many times and gone away empty handed. So to actually win it – it was great.

So what was behind the move to Channel 4?
We had the nerve to say that for the next run we’d like to make it independently, ITV said no, so then we left. I didn’t have a contract. They could have got rid of me any time as well. Channel 4 came along and said ‘You can make it yourself,’ which was the main reason, that was what I wanted to do.

Obviously you’ll be working in tandem with Richard and Judy.
Yep, another job share!

Are you a fan of theirs?
I am, yeah. I worked with them for years. The first time was 12 years ago on This Morning. I always loved it. I loved the variety of that show. You could go from making an omelette to mohair sweaters to a single father stood on a roof, and then we’d have the agony problems with Denise Robertson, who was fabulous. So all that crap we had that we were at each others’ throats was nonsense. We just happened to be on at the same time on different channels. The press love to make up a good war, and there was no war. It was heartbreaking. It really upset me.

Do you get nervous doing the live stuff?
It’s that sort of excitement you get when you’re flying by the seat of your pants. That’s the thrill of it. That’s why I like walking out on stage in front of a big audience. It’s like a boxing match. You go ‘Right, who’s going to win this?’ For me, I don’t rehearse the show or write anything down. That’s the fun.

What can we expect from the show?
Different but it’s still me. That’s the only way I can describe it.

Who’ve been your favourite guests who you’ve interviewed over the years?
George Hamilton was fabulous. Sends himself up to the hilt. He knows everything about Hollywood, he’s a real player, and he’s cool as ice, nothing fazes him. He’s just a smashing fella, so down-to-earth. Who else was I fond of? Lauren Bacall. There’s been a few, actually. I’ve liked most of them.

Who would be your fantasy guest?
All the ones I’d really like are dead. I’d dearly love to sit around with Bette Davis. She is what a real star should be. Who else would I like? Streisand I’d like to get my hands on. Not to grill her, just to stare at her because I love her. I met her in the States. We had quite a long chat. She was smashing, not a bitch at all, not the awkward cow she’s made out to be.

You’ve done various bits of acting over the years. Do you want to go back to that?
No. I’m a terrible actor. Shocking. Takes me ages learning the scripts. And I’ll tell you what I get offered: something on the wrong side of the law, a drug-taker or a drug dealer; copper’s nark; the hard-bitten drag queen in a nightclub; the gay male nurse who’s sensitive; all that kind of stuff. If someone came along and said ‘We’d like you to play a really evil Christian brother or a thug, I’d be in like Flynn. But the stuff I get offered, I’m really not interested. I’ll stick with the chat, thanks very much.