David Jason

David Jason on life before being famous

In the presidential suite of a top London hotel, David Jason and I are like kids in a sweetie shop. We poke our heads into the kitchen, the dressing room, the luxury bathrooms, check out the immense flat-screen TV with its remote controls in leather cases.

David Jason hits out at ratings obsessed BBC

The veteran entertainer reckons the Beeb needs to get back to its roots of nurturing shows to deliver the highest quality of entertainment.

David Jason threatened by knifeman on Open All Hours

Sir David Jason has revealed he was once threatened by a knifeman on set. In his autobiography the actor has revealed how a man wielding a bread knife once lunged at during filming of Open All Hours.

Bridget Jones fans surprised by Del-Boy

Printing blunder means that Bridget Jones fans got a little more than they were expecting with her new book - 40 pages of Sir David Jason's autobiography.

Sir David Jason: How little David grew into a Goliath

He missed out on Monty Python but, as his new autobiography reveals, Sir David Jason has had the last laugh.

Is reviving a classic sitcom ever a good idea?

David Jason will be back in a one-off edition of the corner-shop comedy at Christmas. But as Blackadder, Absolutely Fabulous and others have taught us, comedy revivals are tricky things.

David Jason goes behind the camera for the Pearly Gates

Sir David Jason is stepping behind the camera for his next project. Pearly Gates, which stars The Fast Show's Mark Williams and is written by Ben Sweet, centers around a family-owned funeral business.

Lucky Feller - The Unknown Sitcom

If I was to tell you of an old sitcom starring David Jason about two working-class brothers living by their wits in a council flat in south-east London, one a wide-boy the other a bit simple, what do you immediately think of? Only Fools And Horses, I presume. The other day at my Dad's house I came across a VHS with some episodes of a sitcom he wrote in 1975 called Lucky Feller.

I don't wish to raise unnecessary alarm, but there was a rather strange development at BBC1 last Monday as the continuity guy introduced the Absolutely Fabulous Olympic special. Because these were his exact words: 'Next tonight, comedy gold as Eddie and Patsy get into the Olympic spirit.'

My initial concern here was that the BBC appeared to have caught a nasty case of 'reviewing our own show' disease, which medical sources suggest was first brought into this country by a Mr S Cowell, of London. Half an hour later.

If this is to be the last we see of their grotesque creations they will never be able to say with any degree of honesty that they went out on a high.

I had an even greater problem. Namely, how do I go about suing the national broadcaster for a flagrant breach of the Trades Descriptions Act?
Because this was not gold of any kind, least of all comedy. In fact, for the most part it wasn't comedy of any kind, either.

Yes, there was the odd wry Olympics observation, although nothing that could touch the satirical majesty of BBC2's brilliant Twenty Twelve. And yes, there was a very clever sight gag when Patsy held up Eddie's body contouring all-in-one.
But the rest of the jokes were so lame that on more than one occasion I swear I spotted Derek Redmond's dad rushing up to help them over the line.

They saved the worst one - a real stinker about Clare Balding which I cannot even bring myself to commit to print here - until near the end. (Presumably the thinking was that they would get away with it because most people would have switched off by then.)

Of course, it is Jennifer Saunders and Joanna Lumley I feel most sorry for. If this is to be the last we see of their grotesque creations they will never be able to say with any degree of honesty that they went out on a high.
In Olympic terms, they never even got near the podium.

At best it had the feel of a tired and uninspired end-of-the-run panto. At worst it was like watching a low-rent drag act spewing out filth and innuendo in the vain hope of getting at least one laugh in a grotty East End pub.

Plus, it was in no way helped by the most irritatingly intrusive laughter track in history, which featured one spectacularly loud woman who sounded like a hyena on HRT being fed into a woodchipper.

On a more positive note, it will have provided a welcome boost to David Jason's ego. Because thanks to some of the physical comedy on show here, his performances in The Royal Bodyguard have now slipped to No 2 on this year's Most Toe-Curling TV Slapstick chart.
David can also boast that the BBC didn't hijack his show and fill it with sneaky and self-congratulatory plugs for their upcoming Jubilee coverage. Jennifer Saunders didn't get off so lightly.

First say (the criminally wasted Julia Sawalha) had a line about how much better the TV coverage of the Olympics is in Britain than in Africa. Then Gran (the genuinely wonderful June Whitfield) gave the BBC another premature pat on the back with this closing thought: 'I don't understand why anyone would actually want to be there when they can watch it in comfort on the good old Auntie Beeb.'