Simon remembers some deathly moments

‘Between takes I joined in the banter with the crew and was rebuked, “Could you be a bit deader, please Simon?”’

ACTORS HAVE TO FACE death quite frequently in the theatre, six nights a week and twice on matinee days. Sometimes we have a peaceful passing with a juicy deathbed speech, other times we have to munch our blood capsules and stagger around looking for a comfy spot to croak (behind a sofa is best). In the old days, if you were killed in Act One you could bunk off to the pub without having to wait for the curtain call – who wants to see the corpse taking a bow with a smug grin on his face?

In real life, a bog-standard murder can be easily cocked up – look at the Specsavers moment Lord Lucan had back in 1974 – and no less so on stage.

On one occasion when a pistol failed to fire, the would-be assassin resorted to giving his victim a kick. The quickwitted actor fell to the floor gasping, ‘The boot was poisoned!’ and died.

One of the nastiest deaths I had was in a play about Judge Jeffreys at Stratford East. I had to be hanged for insurrection. Obviously I wore a harness under my costume to which a wire was surreptitiously attached as they put the rope round my neck. Even so, ‘the drop’ from the gallows gave me a terrible jolt in what Granny used to call ‘my gentleman’s area’. I learnt too well where death’s sting-a-ling-a-ling was. With two shows on Saturday, the weekends were on the quiet side.

During one bloodthirsty film, I had to wear a jacket loaded with small explosive pellets detonated to synchronise with the pistol shots. Unfortunately one of them was inserted back to front, so when I was gunned down, I ran off squealing like a stuck pig with my left nipple in tatters.

In Midsomer Murders I was pierced through the heart with a desk-top filing spike and had to lie dead on the floor for ages. Between takes I joined in the jovial banter with the crew and was rebuked by the director, ‘Could you be a bit deader, please Simon?’ I might have it inscribed on my headstone.

As a psychopath in Lynda La Plante’s Above Suspicion I had to be discovered horribly decomposed under the floorboards – after three hours in make-up I looked like Iggy Pop garnished with Rice Krispies. The director wanted to see ants crawling over my face, but as they lowered the floorboard on to me for the first ‘take’ the insects got stage fright and vanished down the inside of my shirt – complete amateurs. One smarty-pants viewer wrote in to say he’d seen my Adam’s apple moving. I wrote back: ‘Get a life.’ According to a waggish tweet, ‘For three days after death, hair and fingernails continue to grow, but the phone calls taper off.’

Between episodes of The Archers, Simon is a popular after-dinner speaker