‘DOES MY BUM LOOK BIG IN THIS?’ DIDN’T COME OUT OF NOWHERE

Arabella Weir on body image and the catharsis of comedy

“There is some very good comedy stuff with Elaine and Doon’s characters driving it,” she says. “Elaine is a much bigger presence [in this series] than she was before. That is probably because her character is the best vessel for the greatest jokes that are so awful that no-one else can say them.

“She has got a number of fantastic gags. I always think of Elaine’s character as slightly the Mrs Slocombe [from Are You Being Served?], this extreme character who can say the things an ordinary person can’t. If Beth made half her jokes, you would think that she had gone completely mad …”

The lack of older women gracing our television screens is an enduring issue. Only last month Ofcom chief executive Sharon White said the BBC is “falling short” on its obligations in this area. In that context, Two Doors Down is arguably a welcome breath of fresh air. “It was Elaine who pointed it out: how often so you get three women over 50 in a show?” says Weir.

The opening episode sees the longsuffering Beth railroaded into hosting a barbecue, stoking the flames for some hilarious Machiavellian shenanigans as her neighbours gather to indulge in their favourite pastime: one-upmanship.

How do Weir’s real-life neighbourly relations compare to that of her on-screen alter ego? “I’m very fortunate in that I’m

When everyone of their generation moved to south London my parents moved to north London because it was an hour closer to Scotland

good, close friends with at least eight of my neighbours,” she says. “That is very unusual in London and probably most urban areas.”

She describes herself as “an extremely good but also a little bit of a nosy neighbour”. Define nosy, Arabella? “I might be fully aware of what everyone does. Although not quite a curtain twitcher, I am part of the local Neighbourhood Watch.”

She makes a mock horrified face. “You do sometimes think: ‘God, what have I become?’” Turning into her mother? Weir gives a fervent shake of the head. “No! My mother couldn’t give a flying f*** who was living next door. She was like: ‘It’s nothing to do with me …’ My mum was an only child and very insular whereas I’m like: ‘I don’t want my kids walking down that street without me knowing who is around and whether they are safe.’”

As it transpires, Weir even has a nickname. “My very good friend – who is also my neighbour – says I’m the Neighbourhood Witch, which is a play on Neighbourhood Watch. She bought me a sign for my window that says: ‘The Neighbourhood Witch lives here.’”