The Mighty Atom of British television

Instantly recognisable with his “pencil moustache, lantern jaw and defiant toupee”, Bruce Forsyth was for more than half a century the king of light entertainment in Britain. He made his first screen appearance just before the start of the Second World War, and retired from co-hosting Strictly Come Dancing in 2013. In 2012, he was acknowledged by Guinness World Records as the longest-serving male entertainer in TV history, said The Daily Telegraph. Quick-witted, irrepressible, shamelessly corny and slightly camp, Forsyth was a consummate TV performer, and “an exemplar” of a form of “wholesome family entertainment” that reached its apogee in the 1970s when he hosted the BBC’S wildly popular The Generation Game, with its prizes-on-a-conveyor belt finale (“a toaster... a fondue set... a cuddly toy!). Of the many catchphrases for which he was known, no fewer than three – “Nice to see you, to see you, nice”, “Didn’t he do well?” and “I’m in charge” – made it into The Oxford Dictionary of 20th Century Quotations.

Bruce Forsyth was born in Edmonton, north London, in 1928, the youngest son of Florence and John, a garage owner. Both his parents were keen musicians, and played in a Salvation Army band, but it was seeing Fred Astaire on screen, when Bruce (nicknamed Spider, on account of his long legs) was about eight, that inspired his passion for showbusiness. His extraordinarily supportive parents paid for him to have tap dancing lessons, first in nearby Tottenham, then, when he grew dissatisfied with his teacher, in Brixton (a twohour journey away), and finally, when he decided he needed to learn the American method, in Piccadilly Circus. In 1939, aged 11, he made his screen debut on a BBC talent show, broadcast live from Radiolympia in London. Three years after that, he left school to join a touring concert party: as the War dragged on, there was a huge demand for cheap entertainment. Billed as “Boy Bruce, the Mighty Atom”, he wore a satin sequinned suit and developed a routine he’d use for the rest of his life, in which he would berate his accompanist for playing too slowly, and dance faster and faster until his feet were a blur.

Over the next 17 years, Forsyth toured the country, performing his song and dance routines in church halls and theatres, and at the ends of piers. By the mid-1950s, with fame still eluding him, he thought about throwing it all in. Then, in 1958, he got his big break: he was asked to host ITV’S Sunday Night at The London Palladium – a show that put him on the same bill as the likes of Sammy Davis Jr. Originally booked for a few weeks to replace Tommy Trinder, he proved a natural compère, with his smooth patter and talent for ad libbing; he was particularly adept at the game show section, Beat the Clock. He stayed for a total of four years, becoming, by the time he left in 1964, one of Britain’s highest-paid entertainers with an income equivalent to £18,000 a week. After that, he sought to branch into acting: he had small parts in the films Star! and Bedknobs and Broomsticks, and in 1964 starred in a West End production of Neil Simon’s musical Little Me.

In 1971, Forsyth made a triumphant return to prime-time television with The Generation Game, and immediately stamped his personality on the show. Starting each episode silhouetted in the pose of Rodin’s The Thinker, he would give a high kick, dance across the set and shout his most enduring catchphrase: “Nice to see you, to see you…” – inviting the audience’s response: “Nice!”

“Niceness” was the quality that most endeared Forsyth to his fans, said Mark Lawson in The Guardian. As a game show host, he could be teasing and sarcastic – he loved to raise a conspiratorial eyebrow to the audience – yet he was never unkind to his contestants. His professionalism was “unquestioned”, and he didn’t suffer unduly from the vices that are most likely to destroy showbiz careers: “he was relatively free of egomania and was never an alcoholic”. Indeed, his only “obvious vice” seemed to be “serial matrimony”. But he remained on reasonably good terms with his two ex-wives, Penny Calvert – a dancer at the Windmill Theatre when they met there in the early 1950s – and Anthea Redfern, his “lovely assistant” on The Generation Game. And there was “notable mutual devotion” in his 34-year marriage to his third wife, Wilnelia Merced (“Winnie” to him), a former Miss World from Puerto Rico, 29 years his junior.

Still, he had an edge to him: he annoyed tabloid editors by snobbishly, in their view, only giving interviews to the broadsheets, and the perfectionism that made him such a success could also make him difficult. There were “scars”, too, from a couple of “high-profile failures”: in 1978, his chat show, Bruce Forsyth’s Big Night, bombed with audiences; eight years later, Bruce Forsyth’s Hot Streak flopped in America, putting paid to his lifelong dream of becoming a star across the Atlantic. American audiences were baffled by his catchphrases, and couldn’t understand why he hadn’t had chin reduction surgery. By then, his routines were also starting to look outdated in Britain. When a newspaper polled its readers to discover the most popular and unpopular TV performers, Forsyth appeared on both lists, said The Times. Even he admitted that his on-screen persona could be a bit much. “I couldn’t bear to be him all the time; he’d drive me crazy,” he said. A workaholic, he kept hosting the game shows – Play Your Cards Right, You Bet!, The Price Is Right – but he began to feel typecast, believing that his other talents (as a pianist, actor, comic and dancer) were being overlooked.

Still, there were compensations – including family (he had six children from his three marriages), golf (he played regularly with Sean Connery in Marbella, where they both owned houses) and football (unusually, he supported both Arsenal and their archrivals Tottenham Hotspur). Moreover, as time wore on, the public and critical “carping” died down, as “Brucie” began to be perceived as a national treasure – a living link with a bygone age of television. In 2003, he was invited to guest host Have I Got News for You, which led to Strictly Come Dancing, and a return to the top of the ratings. His 80th birthday was greeted by an outpouring of public affection, and when he was knighted in 2011 – rather belatedly, in the eyes of many of his friends – it was partly in response to public pressure. With his jokes becoming older than he was, the man they once called the Mighty Atom finally retired from Strictly aged 85, ending a career that had lasted 75 years. His childhood tag may seem naff today, said Lawson, but truly, there was something mighty about the way the Boy Bruce went on to defy the physics of showbiz.

“Even he admitted that his on-screen persona could be a bit much”