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I’M SAVING THE PLANET BY RECYCLING JOKES... BOOM BOOM! ‘Others, like Sooty, think they’re real. I know I am’ ‘Comedy has changed but my jokes are all timeless’
Launching his first show for grown-ups at this year’s Edinburgh Festival, showbiz legend Basil Brush promises it will be good old-fashioned fun
The notorious Groucho Club in London’s Soho is the legendary home of showbusiness naughtiness with a clientele that’s included everyone from Bill Clinton and Princess Diana to Damien Hirst, Kate Moss and Bono. Unsurpr isingly, its habitués are blasé about rubbing shoulders with the famous. But not today. All eyes are on my interviewee and people won’t leave us alone. The demand for selfies and hugs is so high we end up shutting the door on hoi polloi.
Basil Brush – for it is he – sighs and then sniffs loudly. He hasn’t been indulging in naughtiness here, he’s merely been attracted by the whiff of the bins. ‘Posh bins are the best,’ he tells me. ‘I live in Windsor and the ones near the castle have some incredible stuff in them. Sometimes I even find my favourite food: Jelly Babies.’ Jelly Babies? ‘Oh, yes,’ he says. ‘ It’s always been Jelly Babies.’
Basil’s a proper showbusiness legend who’s been in the limelight for more than 50 years. He’s got quite used to the constant adulation – he’s had to. ‘Almost every generation, from the 1960s onwards, has grown up with me,’ he says. ‘If I charged a fiver for every selfie I’ve done over the last few years, I’d be on the Rich List. But people are lovely. Mostly they say, “Boom! Boom!” and talk about how much they love me. It’s very flattering. They’ll often tell me jokes they think are funny.’
We’re here to talk about his new Edinburgh Festival Fringe show, his first at the month-long comedy festival, and it promises to be quite special. As well as entertaining children during the day, he’ll be doing his first ever adults- only show in the evening. ‘I thought people may be interested to know what The Brush thought about grown-up subjects like Brexit,’ he says. ‘In the day for the kids we’ll have songs, cream pies and stories, and the evening show will be much the same. It won’t be blue – like most foxes, I’m colourblind – but it might be a tinge of purple. No rudeness, mind.
‘The adult show will be just as funny as the children’s show. The audience might get wet, they’ll have the chance to get on stage and win prizes, they’ll basically get to be
children again. I’m an Edinburgh virgin but I’m very excited. I’ll be wearing a kilt, but what I have under it I’ll leave to your imagination,’ he chuckles. The grown-up show, which he describes as an intriguing mix of Have I Got News For You?, Jackanory, Graham Norton and Crackerjack, has come about because Basil’s been thinking long and hard about pol it ics. He’s even considering standing for office. ‘I don’t want to give too much away but everyone asks my opinion on Brexit,’ he says. ‘I thought what I should do is stand as leader of an independent fox party. I could even be prime minister.
‘With Brexit, my manifesto would be: we should go in, we should go out, we should shake it all about. And do the hokey cokey because that’s what it’s all about. Oy!’ He’s chuckling away at his own jokes again. ‘ But seriously, I’d change the name from Brexit to Foxit. I couldn’t fox it up any more than they’ve already foxed it up, could I? And because the country is split down the middle, I would indulge in a bit of smoke and mirrors. For those that want to be in we will say, “We look like we’re out, but we’re in,” and for those that want to be out we’ll say, “We know it looks like we’re in, but we’re out.”’
Even foxes famous for children’s entertainment aren’t immune to a touch of cynicism about politics, it appears. ‘Politics is all about people thinking you’re doing something when you aren’t. And if everyone thinks it’s done, they’ll be happy.’
He also has a cunning plan for the expensive HS2 rail project. ‘I could solve that in a whisker!’ he announces. ‘We don’t need to spend all those millions. The other day I got to Manchester 20 whole minutes earlier than I was meant to be there. Shall I tell you how I did it?’ Yes please, Basil. ‘I caught the train that left 20 minutes earlier. And I was there early! It was a miracle of time travel. Think about all that dosh they could save.’
Basil will also be talking about his love life – or lack of it. ‘There was a polar fox I liked a while ago but it never went anywhere.’ I’m surprised to hear there aren’t women beating down his door, especially when he tells me Game Of Thrones actress Gwendoline Christie has admitted to having a crush on him. ‘Apparently she was on TV the other week and she said she had a secret fantasy for
The Brush. You look surprised, my dear?’ I blush, but he laughs. ‘I was surprised too. But apparently she admires my brush – it is my biggest asset after all – and my two teeth.
‘I was rather thrilled and I’m going to get my people to talk to her people and maybe we can have a celebrity blind date. My problem is I can’t tie myself down to one girl... because I can’t do knots. Boom! Boom!’
Basil made his first TV appearance in 1962 in a series called The Three Scampis, about an out-of-work circus act. But his sophistication, which some compared to the refined film actor Terry-Thomas, and sense of humour made him the stand-out star and he soon had his own series, The Basil Brush Show, which ran for 12 years from 1968 and saw Basil with a succession of human sidekicks – Rodney Bewes, Derek Fowlds, Roy North, Howard Williams and Billy Boyle. ‘I’ve always needed a sidekick because I don’t have opposable thumbs so I can’t throw cream pies,’ he reveals. ‘Also, I like to have someone by my side so I can kick them.’
Among his celebrity fans were Princes William and Harry, and Princess Diana booked him to perform at William’s fifth birthday party at Kensington Palace. ‘She even made me a cup of tea – boiled the kettle and everything,’ he gushes. ‘I do hope they come and see me again soon now that they have children. Prince Edward comes and sees me every year in panto and it’s always good to catch up with him and his family when they come backstage.’
There was a lull in the 1990s when Basil apparently went to Marbella and spent most of the time sunbathing. ‘But Auntie begged me to come back and gave me my own CBBC show from 2002 to 2007.’ In his most recent incarnation he’s been supported by actor (and, say it very quietly, puppeteer) Michael Winsor, who’s sitting by Basil’s side as we talk looking rather morose. He remains behind the scenes in the show and it appears he and Basil don’t get on.
You see, the word puppet can never be uttered in Basil’s presence. When I make the mistake of mentioning it he goes into a bit of a strop and threatens to end the interview. ‘What did you say?’ he demands. ‘Never utter the Pword in my presence or you will make me extremely angry. I’m a real-life talking fox, my dear.
‘I know there are others like Sooty who think they’re real. But I know I am. I’ve gone a stage further than Pinocchio because I am a real-life talking fox. There’s no one working me.’ He gives Michael a glare. ‘You still here?’ he asks. Then he whispers, ‘I do get followed around by this bloke sometimes but I haven’t the faintest idea who he is. Apparently he holds the ladder. But he has nothing to do with me.’ Basil is 458 in fox years but looks remarkably well on it. He doesn’t have a single wrinkle. ‘To make myself look younger I put cucumber over my eyes, tuna over my ears and a bit of lettuce in front of my face. It doesn’t do any good but it reminds me of my salad days. Boom! Boom!’ Thankfully he seems to have cheered up.
While his audience’s sense of humour hasn’t changed much over the years, public taste has. In 2008 he was investigated by the hate crimes unit of Northamptonshire Constabulary after a viewer complained about a repeat of The Basil Brush Show. It showed Basil meeting a gypsy fortune teller who put a curse on the fox’s then sidekick, Mr Stephen, followed by a joke about a traveller stealing his wallet. ‘ I was really sorry, I didn’t want to hurt anyone,’ Basil says now. ‘It was a joke that was misconstrued. With political correctness sometimes things go too far. If you do things with jest, it must never be forgotten to look at the context. I would never want to upset anyone. ‘I like to recycle jokes; you could say I’m saving the planet. I love jokes like, “What do you call a deer with no eyes? No idea!” or, “What do you call a man with a car on his head? Jack!” They’re old but many will be hearing them for the first time. As children get older they understand more. I love innuendo; my shows have always been about entertaining the grown-ups as well as children. ‘The interesting thing is how comedy has changed; jokes are often only relevant for today. The biggest joke a few years ago was the England football team, but now they’re doing a lot better. I think of my jokes as timeless. People still love to see someone falling on their bottom. They love a cream pie in the face. So why not give it to them? There’s so much misery and unhappiness around, it’s good to see people laugh.’