FIRST IMPRESSIONS: LENNY HENRY
What are you working on at the moment?
Fences, a play about Troy Maxon, an African-American (they called them ‘coloured’ back in the day) dustbin man in the 1950s. He used to play baseball in the Negro leagues but never got a chance to play in the integrated Majors for the big money.
When were you at your happiest?
Now – I know I’ve been blessed (as my big sister would say) in having a long career. But after 30-something years, to find something that makes you want to jump out of bed in the morning is pretty extraordinary.
What is your greatest fear?
When I was rehearsing Othello, I didn’t think I’d be able to learn the lines. I’d have nightmares about walking on stage naked, or with no mouth, or opening my mouth and birdsong coming out, or walking on and having no head. It was pretty deep.
What is your earliest memory?
Being in a tiny room in the Midlands. I was a toddler, in a cot, holding on to the bars and watching my mother and father pacing backwards and forwards in this confined space. There was a paraffin lamp in the middle of the room and it was cold. Tough times.
Who has been your greatest influence?
My mother – she was naturally funny and a great storyteller. She was also a disciplinarian, who taught me right from wrong. Also, when I fi rst met Dawn [French], our relationship was one of mutual exchange: two people who liked each other a lot and conveyed opinions without exploding. My early career was spent in the Black And White Minstrel Show – lightentertainment hell. When I saw Dawn and Jennifer, Alexei Sayle, Rik Mayall and Ade Edmondson, I instinctively knew there was a different way to perform. I’ll always be grateful for that. What do you most dislike about yourself? I don’t listen. I don’t know who keeps saying that, but… sorry, drifted off there.
What is your most treasured possession?
My Spider-Man and Daredevil comics – if my mother hadn’t been cheesed off with a house full of them and just decided to throw them all on the fire.
What trait do you most deplore in others?
Rude people who barge into queues, talk too loudly on their mobile, eat their food on the train…
Do you have a fantasy address?
The White House.
What do you most dislike about your appearance?
My dry skin: at times, if I’ve forgotten to use my body butter, old Jamaican ladies stop me and shame me.
What is your favourite book?
It’s a toss-up between The Book Of Night Women by Marlon James, Watchmen by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons, or The Grapes Of Wrath by John Steinbeck.
What is your favourite film?
The Godfather, as there is extraordinary attention to detail; and in Part II, Robert De Niro’s work is very fine indeed.
Your favourite record or piece of music?
Discreet Music by Brian Eno sends me to a calm place. The album Songs In The Key Of Life makes me curse at Stevie Wonder’s virtuosity.
Your favourite meal?
Saturday soup from Jerk City in Soho, it’s just like Mama’s.
Who would you most like to come to dinner?
Richard Pryor, Robert De Niro, Robin Williams, Simon McBurney, Martin Luther King, Prince, Stevie Wonder, Michael Jackson, Gandhi and the Krankies.
Which historical character do you most admire?
Toussaint Louverture’s up there, he was the leader of the Haitian Revolution. He transformed an entire state of slaves into free, self-governing people.
What is the nastiest thing anyone has ever said to you?
You don’t want to hear it, this is The Lady.
Do you believe in aliens?
I don’t. They never seem to abduct professors or poets. It’s always guys from Mississippi with cap on backwards, chewing tobacco and unable to string a sentence together. Land and say hello, or vaporise us or whatever. Don’t just hover, glow, then clear off. It’s not polite.
What is your secret vice?
Comics.
Do you write thank-you notes?
It’s only write, right?
Which phrase do you most overuse?
I’ll never eat all that – oh, I just did… What single thing would improve the quality of your life? Musical talent.
What would you like your epitaph to read?
‘He was a good dad and a halfway decent person’.
Fences is at the Duchess Theatre, Catherine Street, London WC2, from 19 June to 14 September: 0844-412 4659, www.nimaxtheatres.com
Fences, a play about Troy Maxon, an African-American (they called them ‘coloured’ back in the day) dustbin man in the 1950s. He used to play baseball in the Negro leagues but never got a chance to play in the integrated Majors for the big money.
When were you at your happiest?
Now – I know I’ve been blessed (as my big sister would say) in having a long career. But after 30-something years, to find something that makes you want to jump out of bed in the morning is pretty extraordinary.
What is your greatest fear?
When I was rehearsing Othello, I didn’t think I’d be able to learn the lines. I’d have nightmares about walking on stage naked, or with no mouth, or opening my mouth and birdsong coming out, or walking on and having no head. It was pretty deep.
What is your earliest memory?
Being in a tiny room in the Midlands. I was a toddler, in a cot, holding on to the bars and watching my mother and father pacing backwards and forwards in this confined space. There was a paraffin lamp in the middle of the room and it was cold. Tough times.
Who has been your greatest influence?
My mother – she was naturally funny and a great storyteller. She was also a disciplinarian, who taught me right from wrong. Also, when I fi rst met Dawn [French], our relationship was one of mutual exchange: two people who liked each other a lot and conveyed opinions without exploding. My early career was spent in the Black And White Minstrel Show – lightentertainment hell. When I saw Dawn and Jennifer, Alexei Sayle, Rik Mayall and Ade Edmondson, I instinctively knew there was a different way to perform. I’ll always be grateful for that. What do you most dislike about yourself? I don’t listen. I don’t know who keeps saying that, but… sorry, drifted off there.
What is your most treasured possession?
My Spider-Man and Daredevil comics – if my mother hadn’t been cheesed off with a house full of them and just decided to throw them all on the fire.
What trait do you most deplore in others?
Rude people who barge into queues, talk too loudly on their mobile, eat their food on the train…
Do you have a fantasy address?
The White House.
What do you most dislike about your appearance?
My dry skin: at times, if I’ve forgotten to use my body butter, old Jamaican ladies stop me and shame me.
What is your favourite book?
It’s a toss-up between The Book Of Night Women by Marlon James, Watchmen by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons, or The Grapes Of Wrath by John Steinbeck.
What is your favourite film?
The Godfather, as there is extraordinary attention to detail; and in Part II, Robert De Niro’s work is very fine indeed.
Your favourite record or piece of music?
Discreet Music by Brian Eno sends me to a calm place. The album Songs In The Key Of Life makes me curse at Stevie Wonder’s virtuosity.
Your favourite meal?
Saturday soup from Jerk City in Soho, it’s just like Mama’s.
Who would you most like to come to dinner?
Richard Pryor, Robert De Niro, Robin Williams, Simon McBurney, Martin Luther King, Prince, Stevie Wonder, Michael Jackson, Gandhi and the Krankies.
Which historical character do you most admire?
Toussaint Louverture’s up there, he was the leader of the Haitian Revolution. He transformed an entire state of slaves into free, self-governing people.
What is the nastiest thing anyone has ever said to you?
You don’t want to hear it, this is The Lady.
Do you believe in aliens?
I don’t. They never seem to abduct professors or poets. It’s always guys from Mississippi with cap on backwards, chewing tobacco and unable to string a sentence together. Land and say hello, or vaporise us or whatever. Don’t just hover, glow, then clear off. It’s not polite.
What is your secret vice?
Comics.
Do you write thank-you notes?
It’s only write, right?
Which phrase do you most overuse?
I’ll never eat all that – oh, I just did… What single thing would improve the quality of your life? Musical talent.
What would you like your epitaph to read?
‘He was a good dad and a halfway decent person’.
Fences is at the Duchess Theatre, Catherine Street, London WC2, from 19 June to 14 September: 0844-412 4659, www.nimaxtheatres.com