What do you do with a father-in-law from hell?
The brutal spat between James Stunt and Bernie Ecclestone shows just how hard it is to win ‘him’ round, says Michael Hogan
Talk about washing your dirty linen in public – even if said linen has a luxuriously high thread count. Millionaire businessman James Stunt didn’t mince his words when discussing his former father-in-law, Bernie Ecclestone, in his first interview since divorcing the F1 motor-racing supremo’s daughter Petra.
Their bitter, £5.5 billion settlement hearing finally ended last month, and it seems the 36-year-old blames Ecclestone Snr for the break-up, charmingly dubbing Bernie and ex-wife Slavica “that dwarf ” and “Lady Macbeth” respectively during a bridge burning chat with Tatler magazine.
Just for good measure, he added that his reputation had been affected by his seven-year association with the Ecclestone family, claiming he “lost his public standing” by marrying “a C-list celebrity’s daughter”.
Bernie was somewhat less verbose in his response, branding Stunt “an idiot” and saying it was a shame to see the damage a prescription drug addiction could do: “James was a nice man when he got married.”
Well, if nothing else, it should all liven up the next family gathering.
Was Bernie Ecclestone really a father-in-law from hell? Stunt hardly sounds ideal son-in-law material, himself. However, this unedifying saga has at least pushed an under-examined family dynamic into the spotlight.
Mothers-in-law have a whole genre of hackneyed jokes and fictional tropes in their honour, invariably depicting them as interfering battleaxes. In classic Seventies sitcom The Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin, Leonard Rossiter’s mid-life crisis commuter famously pictured his mother-in-law as a basking, blowing hippopotamus. That’s just one of the more polite
The archetypal father-in-law never deems his daughter’s suitors good enough
portrayals. Yet somehow fathers-inlaw have escaped similar stereotypes – which is strange, as this relationship can be just as fraught. Indeed, as a man, they are arguably the more protective parent, not to mention the one you traditionally ask for permission to propose. (One friend, Jonathan, once found his request met with a loud guffaw and a: “No, I don’t think so.”)
The archetypal father-in-law never deems his daughter’s suitors good enough, ie you’re not a high-flying consultant surgeon, millionaire member of the aristocracy or dashing foreign prince, like he always imagined for his darling girl.
One ex-girlfriend of mine’s father admitted, under the influence of an expensive bottle of wine (bought by me as a gift), that his ideal son-inlaw was “that nice Tim Henman” – a polite, well-spoken, unthreateningly bland chap who looks good in a pair of tennis shorts and a tossed sweater. My relationship with his daughter lasted about as long as Henman in a major tournament, ie it didn’t reach the final.
A rare cinematic portrayal of the father-in-law minefield is hit Noughties comedy Meet the Parents (forget its inferior sequels, Meet the Fockers and Little Fockers). The original starred Ben Stiller as the unfortunately named Gaylord Focker, desperately trying to win over his girlfriend’s father: a retired CIA agent, played by the intimidatingly deadpan Robert De Niro. Naturally, everything the younger man tried backfired. He was a male nurse, for starters. He also smoked and didn’t like cats. Frankly, we were on De Niro’s side.
Another common father-in-law bugbear is that the new pretender to his daughter’s affections is a step down from her previous beau. Cue unfavourable comparisons and pointed remarks, which can drive a wedge between even the most rocksolid couple.
My friend Dan had a terrible time with his other half ’s father, who was aghast that his daughter had swapped her previous clean-cut stockbroker boyfriend for a scruffy, bearded graphic artist. He undermined Dan constantly. He sulked, behaving almost like a spurned lover himself. He tried to provoke him in all manner of manipulative, passive-aggressive ways. He even faux-innocently invited the stockbroker to family functions. He was only won around when Dan sold his design agency to a bigger outfit, made seven figures and bought a holiday home on the Algarve. Miraculously, his father-in-law forgot his misgivings almost overnight. Funny, that.
Another ex of mine had an overbearing father with a bonecrushing handshake, who took a deep dislike to me from the moment he discovered that, at the time, I couldn’t drive. I was clearly no sort of man. Indeed, he made several comments to the effect that I must, therefore, be gay.
Furious disapproval radiated from him, no matter what I did or how happy I made his daughter.
During one summer barbecue, the family’s much-loved black Labrador – with whom I’d fostered a friendship, thinking this might soften its owner – took rather too much of a shine and repeatedly tried to mount me.
My prospective pa-in-law was unapologetic, insisting: “He’s never done that before,” even suggesting I must have “led the dog on”.
It might not surprise you to learn that he eventually got his way and we broke up. The last I heard, his daughter had married a man with a full driving licence – who ended up in prison for fraud.
The Labrador’s feelings about this matter are, at the time of going to press, unknown.
Perhaps the world’s highest-profile father and son-in-law relationship is that between Donald Trump and
Defer to him without brown-nosing. Laugh at his jokes, even the unfunny ones
Jared Kushner. The US president made daughter Ivanka’s husband his “senior adviser”, despite Kushner having no prior governmental experience. His role mainly seems to involve lurking at the back of meetings, looking out of his depth.
Working together can put a strain on any father and sonin-law relationship. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it doesn’t always end well – as Gordon Ramsay, who went into partnership with Chris Hutcheson, the father of his wife Tana, well knows. Hutcheson was jailed for six months last year for hacking company computers to steal information during a decadelong dispute with the celebrity chef. Certainly puts the odd disagreement about DIY or dog-neutering into perspective.
It can be hard enough when two families combine – see ye olde joke: “What’s the difference between in-laws and outlaws? Outlaws are wanted” – let alone if two men are locking horns like rutting stags.
So how best to cope? In-laws are a fact of life for most of us, so you might as well do your best to get along. (My own father-in-law, I must point out, is a lovely man with whom I have a warmly respectful relationship. He also happens to be a Daily Telegraph reader. Hello, Philip.)
For the son-in-law, it’s about understanding and compromise. Show an interest in his passions, while steering clear of hot-button topics like God or Brexit. If he’s hostile, stay relaxed, reasonable and keep trying. Keep in mind that it’s not really you he dislikes – it’s what you represent: change and the inexorable passing of time.
So show you’re not a threat to his status. Defer to him without brown-nosing. Laugh at his jokes, even the unfunny ones. Most of all, demonstrate that you truly care for the thing you’ve indisputably got in common: his daughter.
For the father-in-law, it’s a little easier, since you hold more of the cards. So be happy to help, but don’t interfere; learn to bite your tongue and remember: if she’s happy, you’re happy. Oh, and keep the family Labrador under control.
Some names have been changed