It’s with enormous sadness that I’ve just heard about the death of Victoria Wood from cancer. She was, quite simply, my kind of act. Her body of work was astounding – TV sketch shows, stand up, sitcoms, musicals, plays and films (both comic and straight) – all containing the same depth of wit and unsentimental pathos that set her head and shoulders above the rest of her (mostly male) peers. Victoria Wood saw humour in the humdrum, the extraordinary in the everyday. She was a breath of fresh air from both the misogynistic old dinosaurs of her early career and the new breed of angry comics who thought shouting expletives at you was funny. And, she was generous with her words, giving her best lines to the talented cast of people she always kept close, Julie Walters among them.
I’m so pleased I got to see her (twice) at the Albert Hall back in the day. Victoria Wood has kept me laughing through four decades.
So I give you the Ballad of Barry and Freda…
Image courtesy of the Guardian.