Dad's Army creator on 'captain of comedy' Arthur Lowe: from the archive, 16 April 1982
It was a wonderful sunny day, as it always seemed to be when we were filming Dad's Army. David Croft and I were standing in a street in Thetford, getting ready for the first shot of the morning when Arthur Lowe said those immortal words: "I want to make it quite clear to you both I refuse to have a bomb in my trousers."
The idea was that an escaped German U-boat officer put a grenade in the waistband of Captain Mainwaring's trousers, then marched behind him, holding a piece of string which was attached to the pin. His line was, "one false move and I pulls ze string." There was a struggle, the pin came out and the grenade fell down inside Mainwaring's trousers.
Dear John Laurie (Private Frazer) then had to put his arm right down and try to get it out. "Why didn't you tell us before that you didn't want to do it," I said. "You've had the script for a month." "How could I?" Arthur replied, "I've only just read it."
This was the greatest compliment he could pay us. He trusted our writing completely. The crisis was swiftly averted when we changed the script so that Clive Dunn (Corporal Jones) had the bomb in his trousers. During the course of 10 years and 80 episodes of Dad's Army this was the only real disagreement we ever had.
Arthur Lowe was Captain Mainwaring and Captain Mainwaring was Arthur Lowe. He revelled in the part and as the years went by David and I wrote so intimately for him, taking in every little quirk of his personality that the man and the character became one.
I shall never forget the first day we all met. We were having lunch and discussing the show in general. Arthur seemed quite keen and liked the idea of a series based on the Home Guard. There was a lull in the conversation and David Croft said: "What sort of comedy shows do you like Arthur?" "I'll tell you one I don't like," he replied, "that thing Hugh and I."
Now Hugh and I was a very successful series starring Terry Scott and Hugh Lloyd, which was David's pride and joy. "I produce it," he said. Arthur didn't blink an eyelid. His only comment was: "This wine's not bad. I shall order it next time I have lunch here."
Later, he gave me a lift to Sloane Square in his car, a vintage Daimler. "You know, Jimmy," he said, "they don't make cars like this any more." Just then I touched the sunshield which came away in my hand. I quickly put it under the seat, hoping that Arthur hadn't noticed. I realised then that a man who could be so naturally funny as this was a gift to any writer.
Over the years I discovered that Arthur and I had many things in common. We both had a long, hard apprenticeship in weekly rep, something that has now completely disappeared. We worked out that between us we had done more than 1,000 plays.
Another thing we had in common was that we were both descended from a long line of butlers. His father and my father's family had both been in service. Arthur loved talking about butlers, swigging the port and watering the gin and taking back-handers from tradesmen. He played a superb butler and we often discussed the idea of writing a series for him as an old retainer.
Arthur had a great sense of humour and loved to send himself up. In 1972 the Dad's Army team were invited to switch on the Blackpool illuminations. The corporation had laid on a special coach and as the train progressed north the interest it caused was amazing. The platforms were alive with fans cheering us on. It was like a victorious army.
We were enjoying a splendid lunch when the train stopped at Crewe. Instantly dozens of faces were pressed against the window staring at us eating. There were cries of, "There they are," and "That's him!" Arthur tapped on the window and said, "Go away, clear off." Then he winked at me; he had to keep up his image.
His great skill was his timing. It was faultless. He could get huge laughs with such simple lines as "Just a moment," "how dare you," and "you stupid boy." He was a very kind man and would go out of his way to help actors less fortunate than himself. His rich comic genius will be sadly missed by us all.