Brucie: Truth about my Strictly exit
A candid Brucie on the truth behind his exit from the show . . . and why he left Tess Daly in tears
BEFORE we get down to the nitty-gritty — his beloved Corby trouser press, his deep love for his Puerto Rican former beauty-queen wife, and, whisper it quietly, the perils of the autocue — Sir Bruce Forsyth wants to make one thing very, very clear.
‘It was my decision completely.’ He looks at me very hard with very small, very blue eyes. He is, of course, referring to his departure from BBC1’s Strictly Come Dancing, announced last week.
And to the rumours that have been swirling ever since — on Twitter, in newspapers, on the internet — that after presenting the Saturdaynight show for 11 series over ten years, the decision was not entirely his own.
‘The last show of the last series, I knew,’ he tells me. ‘I walked back into the dressing room and looked at myself in the mirror and thought, ‘‘Really? Why am I doing this any more? Is this really what I want to do?’’
‘I always thought I’d know when it was time to go, but I was doubtful. So I thought it over during our winter break in Puerto Rico, and when I came back I said to my agent and my manager, “Right, that’s it. I’m going to leave.” And they said, “We don’t believe you — you’ve said it all before,” and I said, “No. This time it’s definite. It’s over.”’
So they told the BBC. And Bruce broke the news to his co-presenter, Tess Daley. ‘I said: “Tess, I’m leaving Strictly.” And she didn’t reply. I thought she’d fainted but the phone had just gone dead. ‘I called her back and we both had a bit of a cry.’ When the BBC press office announced Bruce was quitting, it made the six o’clock news, the 10 o’clock news and the front page of pretty much every national newspaper.
‘All those front pages with me beaming out,’ he says. ‘Ooh, I couldn’t believe it! That made me feel very pleased with my decision. I feel relaxed. I feel good. But everyone was so surprised.’
No wonder. Despite endless criticism of his corny jokes and stumbles over the autocue, and frenzied speculation — betting even — that each series would be his last, Brucie remained an enduring and central part of Strictly. Every year, as a new crop of celebrities squeezed into their sequined outfits, he was there — shoes shined to a military buff, eyes glinting, face caked in orange make-up, hair thick and lustrous, if oddly crinkly. It sometimes felt as if he’d be there for ever. Bruce said himself he’d ‘carry on working as long as his legs worked’ and that if they wanted to get rid of him, ‘someone would have to come and physically throw me out’.
Until now.
TODAY, in the wood-panelled snug of his sprawling Surrey mansion, he is giving his first interview since the big announcement.
‘I’ve been leaving the show since the first series,’ he says. ‘Every series it’s been: “He’s leaving, it’s definite” . . . “He won’t do the third series” . . . “He’s not going to do the fourth series” . . . “I’ve got it on good authority that he won’t be doing the fifth” . . . “He’s too old, he’s tired.” ‘I have a week off and everyone goes berserk. All that has driven me mad. Of course it has.’ But now it has happened. ‘Yes, it’s retirement in a way — but I’m coming back for the Christmas Specials and Children In Need and I’m still doing other things.’
This includes a documentary about his old Hollywood friend Sammy Davis Jr (‘such a professional’) and a series of one-man shows.
Off the telly, and without the benefit of an hour or so in ‘hair and make-up’, Sir Bruce looks rather different. His skin — for once not plastered in studio cosmetics — is surprisingly good.
He admits: ‘ I use a lot of face creams. Winnie (his wife Wilnelia) gets them for me. It’s a Nivea one at the moment.’ His hands are soft, his nails beautifully manicured, his tummy has the beginnings of a paunch (‘a corporation, my father used to call it — I’m going to have to give up bread’), and his arms, poking out of a short-sleeved shirt, are slim and rather mottled.
Outside are vast pine t r ees, sweeping lawns and perky statues. Inside it’s all thick rugs, ornate mirrors and embroidered cushions.
His wife is magnificent — a former Miss World with amazing glossy hair, pearly-white teeth and the face of a woman in her 30s. She is 56.
They met on a judging panel for Miss World in 1980 and married two years later, when he was 53 and she was 23. He’d been married twice before. First to Penny Calvert, who gave him three daughters. And then to Generation Game hostess Anthea Redfern, who provided two more daughters. Bruce and Winnie have one son, JJ.
‘The last thing I wanted in the world was to get married again,’ he tells me. ‘But then I met Winnie, and that was that.’
No one thought it would last. Particularly not her family, who wept noisily all the way through their New York wedding. ‘Even close friends — I could tell by the way they looked at us they were thinking: “Six months, at best.” And I just loved her so much.’
But we digress. Back to Strictly. Because Brucie has a lot to set me straight on. That damned autocue business, for starters.
‘They’re always having a go at me about the autocue. Of course there’s a few fluffed lines because it’s live.
‘Newsreaders often make mistakes, but that’s forgotten about. But I don’t have that luxury. I’m up there
to be shot at. As soon as I fluff it, it’s all, “Well, he’s 86 — it’s hardly surprising.” It’s always about my age. It’s patronising and it’s very unkind and very uncalled for.
Then he adds: ‘And no, my autocue isn’t any bigger than Tess’s. I don’t even wear contact lenses, and it’s not very close, I tell you. But it’s live television — people still don’t seem to know what live telly really is.
‘It’s not sanitised like 99 per cent of television. Of course there are mistakes but we all make them.’
It can’t have been easy being on the receiving end of all those brickbats. ‘It’s gone on for years,’ he says. ‘And it doesn’t help. It all adds up. If you read all that criticism, it’s bound to make you more nervous about making mistakes.
‘And all that talk about me being unwell. I never missed any extra weeks because of illness. I just shifted one of my three ‘rest weeks’ forward when I had flu.
‘In fact, my biggest fear was getting the flu and letting everyone down. Studios are probably the most unhealthy places in the world — germs flying around, no fresh air.’
But what about the comments made by the new BBC controller Charlotte Moore in a recent interview? She was quoted as saying of Bruce: ‘He is not young and has missed a couple of programmes. So it is really important to have that conversation.’
‘Oh Charlotte Moore! That was all really a lot of nonsense,’ Bruce says. ‘Things were taken out of context — you know how it is. A simple misunderstanding. I think she was upset about it. Of course I get tired. Everyone gets tired, for goodness’ sake. The fact is, everyone at the BBC has been marvellous about this, allowing me to take it a lot easier, but still be part of Strictly and BBC1.’
Bruce is famously disciplined — every morning for the last 31 years he has done a series of exercises from a 1939 book called The Fountain Of Youth, which includes spinning 21 times to i mprove his metabolism.
He is also extremely fastidious — he launders all his own shirts, underpants and socks — has endless superstitions (magpies, hats on beds, green sweets, whistling, knitting . . . the list goes on) and a touch of obsessive compulsive disorder.
ACCOrdIng to his wife, he even ‘ sleeps tidily’. ‘He’s so neat and still and I’m a very messy sleeper with one arm here, one there and I’m always stealing the covers,’ she tells me. ‘We have an enormous bed — 7ft — but we always finish in the same corner. I’m Latino and very tactile. I chase him across the bed!’ But Bruce boasts: ‘I’m getting more untidy. Especially upstairs.’
gosh, might he occasionally leave a towel where it fell?
‘no, no, no! not towels. I’m very particular about towels. And I always put my trousers in my Corby trouser press and switch it on, no matter how tired I am. Here — look at that lovely crease,’ he says, pinching his grey flannel slacks.
If it seems Bruce has been around forever, it’s because he has. His 75year career — he is in the guinness Book Of records for the longest TV career of a male entertainer — started i n the music halls as Boy Bruce, The Mighty Atom, when he was 11.
‘Sunday night At The Palladium, The generation game and now Strictly — 54 years of prime-time television — who else has that?’
despite Bruce’s longevity, or perhaps because of it, it’s easy to forget how old he really is. But he insists: ‘ I hate being called a “national treasure”, because it sounds like I should be buried.’
And it’s also easy to overlook how demanding a series like Strictly actually is. As well as the whole week being taken up by script-sessions and rehearsals, the actual filming is exhausting.
‘It’s not like The X Factor where they just sit behind a desk and write down their comments.’
After each series, Bruce and Winnie would travel to Puerto rico and return in April, ready for the new season of Strictly later in the year.
But Bruce says: ‘I just feel relief knowing that I don’t have to go through it again. It’s a weight off my shoulders and now we can just relax and enjoy watching it.’
He refuses to be drawn on his possible successor — other than to point out that Claudia Winkleman actually did Tess’s job, not his, when she filled in on the show. He jokes, too, that London mayor Boris Johnson ‘looks like his legs can move’.
What about an older presenter? A woman? ‘ Television i s very ageist — particularly for women,’ Bruce says. ‘It’s wrong. An older woman can be attractive, very attractive.’
He mentions as an example the presenter Joan Bakewell, who is 81 next week. ‘It is accepted that when women get very old they don’t age as gracefully as men, but they can still look good.’
However, he adds: ‘Anyone over 80 is on borrowed time. And I don’t just mean on television. You can get something wrong with you tomorrow, next week. Your legs won’t work. Your back goes. Be grateful for today, because tomorrow . . .’
As for his own ‘tomorrow’, he’s looking forward to watching more TV. ‘I’m a sports maniac — this weekend it’s the Masters. My wife, she has to keep out of the way!’
And he’s also cherishing the thought of reading and playing golf more (his handicap is 14) and going to the supermarket. ‘I love going to Waitrose with Cora our housekeeper — she’s up and down the aisles like a greyhound.’
And, of course, there’s romancing his beloved Winnie.
‘I say lots of nice things to her in the day, like “I love you, babe”. I call her babe and baby doll. She likes that. Or I give her a little hug or a kiss on the cheek just to let her know that I love her to be near me as much as she can.’
They make an odd-looking couple. He, in his own words, is ‘rather withered — we all wither in the end, don’t we?’, while she is so luscious, glossy, bouncy and utterly delightful. Bruce lights up whenever she’s around, and the feeling is clearly mutual.
Winnie says: ‘ He’s just lovely. I feel very in love with him still, in every way.
‘I’m amazed it’s been 31 years. He’s my l over, my f riend, my mentor and a wonderful father. I admire him and I’m very proud of him. Sometimes I feel too lucky.’
Presumably, as the years rattle by, their age gap feels a teeny bit more pressing?
‘ Yes, it’s scary,’ she admits. ‘I have a mother who i s 79. My f ather i s 81. It is f rightening, thinking I could lose any of them because of their age. But at the same time I could go tomorrow. The main thing is to enjoy every single day.’
FOr such a protective lioness, it must be hard listening to Bruce’s critics — all that chat about his terrible jokes and being too old and doddery. ‘Yes, I feel very protective. I feel like giving them a call. running to their house and putting them straight! Yes, some people dislike him — his catchphrases, his look.
‘But in general people seem to love him.
‘And the best thing is that it really was his decision and not the BBC saying, “You’ve got to go”. Which could easily have happened. So he’s very lucky.’
‘And anyway,’ interjects Bruce. ‘I’m only sort of retiring. People keep saying they’re going to miss me, but it’s not like I’m going off to a different planet.
‘And maybe now all the “when is he going” has stopped, the “when is he coming back?” will start!’
See Bruce live in Bruce Forsyth entertains’ on May 11 at Southampton’s Mayflower Theatre, June 1 at Bristol Hippodrome and June 7 at Nottingham’s Concert Hall.