Sunday Mirror (Northern Ireland)
My life-long bipolar battle
It is something I have to battle, daily. It hugely helps to talk about it. What plans for my 60th? To survive
AT the height of his TV fame he was one of our most recognisable comedians, adored by millions for his hilarious one-liners.
Yet today, Tony Slattery spends more of his time in front of the TV. And a visit to the theatre, he says apologetically, “is a bit expensive”.
As I sit across from the Who’s Line Is It Anyway? star in a dingy hotel on the outskirts of Warrington, Cheshire, it is hard to believe I am looking at the same performer.
His slick, black hair has turned white, and he has a beard to match.
He still has a glint in his eye – but years of fighting bipolar disorder have visibly taken their toll.
His words rush out in a stream of consciousness, peppered with huge pauses and tinged with sadness.
Sitting on a bed, he puffs a cigarette and says: “You wake up and, if you’re alive, cool – go from there if you can.”
Asked his plans for when he turns 60 later this year, he quips: “Survive.”
Telling of his daily battle with his mental health issues, he says: “I could write you a book on bipolarity.
“It’s one of those hidden things, it’s complicated. That’s not to say, ‘Oh god, aren’t I special’. So many people have it – the spectrum is enormous.
“But it hugely helps to talk about it – to get it out, discuss it.”
In his heyday in the 80s and 90s, his captivating stints on Channel 4 improvisation show Who’s Line Is It Anyway? made Tony one of the UK’s top stand-ups.
Today he is on tour, revisiting those glory days with the help of a fan called Allan Lear who, he says, has become one of his best friends.
His ascent to stardom began at university in Cambridge, where he studied Modern and Medieval languages, including Spanish poetry. Stephen Fry invited him to join Footlights, the theatre club famous for producing some of Britain’s top-flight comedians and actors.
During Tony’s time there, his fellow thespians included Fry, Emma Thompson and Hugh Laurie. Along with Paul Shearer and the late Penny Dwyer they won the first-ever Perrier Comedy Award at the Edinburgh Festival in 1981 – in a revue directed by Jan Ravens.
And he met his partner when they both sang in West End hit musical Me and My Girl – in an award-winning version by close friend Stephen.
But Tony’s meteoric rise was blighted by mental health demons and battles with drugs and booze.
In the 1990s it did not matter whose line it was – his 10g of cocaine a day cost him £4,000 a week. It led to a breakdown in 1996 when he stayed in his Thameside flat for six months.
A decade later he was given some stern advice on the set of 2005 movie Ahead of the Class by comedy legend Julie Walters, “one of my heroines”.
He recalls: “She sat me down and said, ‘One – Tony, I think you’re a good actor, but there’s a darkness inside you. Two, you smell a bit of vodka. Three… take it easy.”
Asked if he heeded the advice, he replies: “Yes.” But on the day we meet, he sips lager, then white wine, throughout.
He jokes unhappily about the work drying up and, asked if he would like to return to comedy television, muses: “I think there’s a capability in me to be really dangerous and sinister – as opposed to just being a light entertainment comedian.”
Tony tells of a conversation he once had with a psychiatrist. “After an hour of examination he said, ‘The thing is Tony, you’re mad.’ ” The Sunday Mirror has campaigned for years to end the stigma surrounding mental ill health. Unsurprisingly, it is something Tony backs. “I’m pleased mental health is discussed more openly now,” he says.
“There used to be a huge stigma. I get very annoyed when people talk about happy pills – because there’s no such thing.
“Antidepressants can be really useful and effective, but they’re not a panacea.”
In 2006, Stephen Fry – who also has bipolar disorder – invited Tony to be in his documentary The Secret Life of the Manic Depressive. He says Fry has been hugely supportive. “Stephen is one of my heroes and he’s been hugely influential on my way of thinking,” says Tony. “He’s one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.”
Now living in a rented two-up, two-down in Edgware, North London – he never thought to buy when he had the cash – Tony admits: “It’s a tiny house, not nice at all. It’s on the end of the Northern Line – it’s Blade Runner, without the humour.
“Am I domesticated? Housebroken? I’m broken, and I live in a house. Will that do?” Tony lives with actor Mark
I get annoyed when people talk about happy pills …because there is no such thing TONY SLATTERY ON STRUGGLE OF DEALING WITH MENTAL ILL HEALTH
Michael Hutchinson, his “rock” and partner of three decades.
He says: “I’ve been with Marky for 32 years. Oh god, it’s still going well. Damn him, he’s two months older than I am but looks half my age.
“We’ve no plans to marry. What’s the bloody point? You give your heart to someone else, or you don’t.”
Paraphrasing Shakespeare, he adds: “The friends that last, in life, grab them to your soul with hoops of unbreakable steel.
“I once said to Mark, ‘I would leap in front of a flying bullet for you,’ and he replied, ‘That’s lovely, Tony, but no one is shooting at me. Would you mind doing the dishes instead?’” The pair met in Me and My Girl in 1986. “I fell in love with him,” he recalls. “But I didn’t know which way to – shall we say – jump.
“It took me about six months in the show, then I finally got up the courage to ask him out. We’ve been together ever since.”
His voice breaking and with tears in his eyes, he adds: “He is hugely supportive – he’s authentic, real. He means everything to me.”
Asked what life is like for the pair of them, he replies: “We watch TV.
“The theatre’s a bit expensive. It’d be nice to earn some dosh.” Then he adds simply: “We love each other.” He quotes poet Philip Larkin, musing: “When it boils down to it, ‘What will survive of us is love’.”
His current tour arose from a letter two years ago from Allan Lear, asking him to send a 40th birthday card to his wife Erica, a huge fan. The pair, who have become his “best friends”, are in the room when we meet – and Erica shares a story about Tony putting his socks in the dishwasher to clean them.
He is currently touring with Allan, resurrecting some of the comedy he is best known for.
“Erica and Allan have given me a new enthusiasm for life,” Tony admits.
“We’re doing gigs – a mix of interviews and improv – and we’re doing Edinburgh this year.
“Comedy is a really good way of dealing with tragedy. I’m sorry… that’s all I can offer.”
I could see the star quality even then… the charm, the stillness, the concentration
TONY SLATTERY ON HIS CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY FRIEND EMMA THOMPSON