Shropshire Star

The unforgettable Rod Hull provides trip down memory lane

Like Chopper bikes, flares and space hoppers, Rod Hull and Emu were staples of a 1970s childhood.

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Like Chopper bikes, flares and space hoppers, Rod Hull and Emu were staples of a 1970s childhood.

Unlike some of those relics so fondly remembered from 40 years ago, he endured well into the next decade and remained as popular as ever.

His antics – or to be more specific, those of his unpredictable and much-feared sidekick Emu - were from a more innocent time in the world of entertainment and managed to be funny without causing offence or (too much) injury to anyone.

He also achieved something which many entertainers today seem to find difficult in that he bridged the generation gap and appealed just as much to parents as well as those children of the 70s.

Unlike today, where celebrities live their lives in the full glare of publicity through the media and online networking sites, in those days we only ever knew the stage persona of the stars on our television screens and little was known about the people behind the acts.

Last night's ITV1 show, The Unforgettable Rod Hull, however, gave us a glimpse of the man who made this chaotic double act a household favourite – as well as a handful of Emu clips to satisfy our appetite for nostalgia.

We were first taken back to Hull's early years in Kent where he loved entertaining. He trained as an electrician, but dreamed that he could one day make a living out of entertainment. His sister had emigrated to Australia and, spotting an opportunity for someone of his talent to get into the burgeoning TV industry Down Under she invited him to stay.

He found work in a studio but his sense of mischief soon came to the attention of bosses and he started to make his name in comedy shows, going on to star alongside fellow Brit Warren Mitchell who cast him as a sidekick in his own comedy series. Mitchell summed him up by saying 'he loved to be a naughty boy'.

Hull thrived on mischief and chaos, but only when he found a tatty emu puppet in a props cupboard did he find a way to vent this side of his character in public without reproach or restriction. Once teamed up with this temperamental and aggressive alter ego he really came into his own.

Celebrities admired and feared him, and although they always knew what was coming they were never quite sure when or what form it would take and their nerviness combined with Hull's comic timing and spontaneity created some great comedy moments.

Even off stage, Hull often remained in character (or characters), seemingly able to split himself in two. While he conducted a perfectly normal conversation Emu would be silently planning his next strike.

His agent admits he 'sidled up to his hand' in the dressing room once Emu was on it for fear of being attacked at any minute.

Once, in the line-up at a Royal Variety Show, Hull bowed before the Queen Mother only for Emu to snatch the heads of flowers she was carrying at the time.

Even the esteemed Michael Parkinson wasn't immune to the Emu's attentions, resulting in an iconic piece of British TV. He remains philosophical about the incident but admits he did lose his temper as he was being mauled on the floor, losing a shoe and a little bit of dignity in the process.

The clips shown last night revealed not only Hull's tremendous comic ability but also the physical skill he would inject into his act as he threw himself about the floor in a tussle with Emu, never threatening to drop or lose control of the puppet.

Having become a household name and making a million, Hull bought the house that inspired Dickens to write Great Expectations, Restoration House in Rochester. But that was where his fortunes changed as the house became a money pit. That, followed by the news he owed £650,000 in tax left him bankrupt and living in a rundown cottage.

However, his positivity and happy-go-lucky nature endured and he returned to his roles as family man and father before his death at the age of 63 in a freak accident when he fell from the roof of his home.

The programme was a rose-tinted look at the life of a great entertainer. Hints that he was getting fed up of the omnipresent Emu and held a deep desire to ditch him and become a writer are glossed over.

It could have gone into more depth, but nevertheless provided an enjoyable half-hour's trip down memory lane.

Sally-Anne Youll

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