Towards the end of the seventies I received a call from a publicity lady at the ICA, a small, artsy theatre venue in the Mall.
‘We’re putting on a play called Talent by a young writer called Victoria Wood and we wondered if you would like to interview her. You may have seen her singing funny songs on New Faces or That’s Life. She’s playing one of the lead roles as well. Believe me, she’s going to be a huge star.’
Publicists always tell you that people who aren’t yet stars are going to be very soon, that’s their job, but it was a free ticket and seemed like a good contact, so I happily went along.
Needless to say the play was a gentle revelation and although the young Miss Wood was painfully shy and modest she managed to be a joy to interview. Hearing or seeing someone who is genuinely honest and funny is always life-enhancing. Coming across French and Saunders in a fringe theatre somewhere, just before they broke through into television, I experienced the same rush of pleasure at seeing life from a different angle for the first time.
Playing back the interview with Victoria Wood afterwards, and then reading through her words once I had typed them up into an article for a women’s magazine, I actually found myself laughing out loud again; a pretty fair indicator that the publicity lady’s predictions were going to come true.
If Victoria Wood was the only thing that ever came out of the hundreds of thousands of hours of talent show television that the world has endured, it would still all have been worthwhile.