Memorial Service: Barry Norman James Hughes-onslow

There were no fewer than nine speakers to celebrate the life of television film critic Barry Norman at St Paul’s, Covent Garden – an appropriate spot since it is the Actors’ Church. Acting vicar the Rev Richard Syms told us the church thrived after the restoration of Charles II, being close to the Royal Opera House and the Theatre Royal. The vicar said he was once an actor and had known Barry for thirty years. ‘He didn’t like actors as friends,’ he said. ‘I know I was a friend, but did he know I was an actor?’

Barry Cryer, chairman of The Oldie’s literary lunches, gave a eulogy. He read a poem he had written about the other Barry in which he cleverly rhymed Damon Runyon with a pickled onion.

Norman was keen on pickled onions and started a business to produce and sell them. ‘The factory is going very well and we have just announced a new development,’ said John Wringe, who runs the business. ‘We are launching an extra-strong, double chilli pickle. Barry always told me he had the best years of journalism and the best years of television.’

Film critic Jason Solomons said the key to Norman’s success was that he appreciated the work that went into making films. ‘He was polite and empathetic,’ he said. ‘Film-making, like life, is a balance and Barry got it right.’

‘No one appreciated my grandfather nearly as much as I did,’ said grandson Bertie Norman, who revealed he had never said the catchphrase ‘And why not?’, which was invented by Rory Bremner. ‘He was and always will be my hero, I loved him so much.’ Producer Bruce Thompson said Barry was the king of the autocue, who could do a thirty-minute show in one take. Still, he was a private man who had no desire to steal the limelight. Lord Puttnam said Barry understood that great films had to be cultural and commercial: ‘He had no time for cultural pretension.’

Barry’s brother, Richard, told how they were chased by a bull when they were on holiday in Scotland. ‘I was four or five and he was nine or ten,’ he said. ‘Barry ran like hell and left me behind. I like to think he was running for help, but I’m not sure. He was a caring, protecting older brother. He was a warm and lovely man. I loved him, warts and all.’

The congregation sang Jerusalem and there was a standing ovation, as is the tradition in the Actors’ Church. No pickled onions were on offer, however.