‘Tough Crowd’ is a memoir that falls into two distinct parts. Roughly the first two thirds recount the life and career of Graham Linehan, the multi-award-winning comedy writer whose hit shows include ‘Father Ted’, ‘The IT Crowd’, ‘Big Train’ and ‘Count Arthur Strong’. The final third of the book tackles the fact that, despite retaining his creative spark and a desire to work, Linehan is ostracised from the entertainment industry and considers that part of his life to be over.
Without Graham Linehan’s unceremonious cancellation, there probably wouldn’t be a book. I can’t think of another sitcom writer whose autobiography I have read. And I love classic British sitcoms. Such tell-alls tend to be the preserve of actors, comedians, musicians and those with showier careers. The writer’s contribution to popular culture, especially for TV and film, is almost always unsung. Yet interest in Linehan’s life story has heightened since he became such a polarising figure and one of the most high-profile people to be expunged from polite society without ever committing a crime. That in itself is a story worth telling (and hearing).
This troubled background inevitably lends an unusual weighting to the book. There is the pre-Twitter-fallout Linehan and the post-Twitter-fallout Linehan. Taking the memoir in the round, the reader can see how the author demonstrates a natural progression between the two phases. The writer starts out with what motivated him to forge the career in comedy in which he found considerable success, but divulges that it is precisely the same innate driving force and principles that later moved him to take a stand for women’s rights in particular.
In common with many biographical works, the book finds its groove once childhood and adolescence are addressed. With those awkward chapters out of the way, the writer can get on to the areas that strongly interest him. From the section on the origins of ‘Father Ted’ to the final page, ‘Tough Crowd’ is a compelling, often funny, sometimes shocking and ultimately moving book. It contains wit and wisdom about the writing process, including the ideal length and structure of sitcom episodes. Linehan explains why comedy must be true. All aspiring comedy writers could learn a lot from ‘Tough Crowd’.
My rule with reviews is to remove my ego from them and just talk about the product and whether or not its intended audience will like it. I make an exception for ‘Tough Crowd’. Although I have never met Graham Linehan or spoken a single word to him, his work has influenced my life for many years. A brutal Christian Brother at school left me praying each night that he wouldn’t hurt me. Father Jack, the irate, monosyllabic, alcoholic older priest in Father Ted’s parochial house proved a vivid reminder of my tormentor in both appearance and character. Finally, I was granted permission to laugh at painful memories and the absurdities that I had been made to regurgitate and begin to put it all behind me. ‘Father Ted’ became my favourite show and I had a quotation for every occasion. That liberation was a gift from Linehan, and I remain profoundly grateful for it.
Even earlier than Linehan, I also experienced in microcosm a similar sort of cancellation. For me, it wasn’t about the trans issue. It was that I failed to be appalled by Brexit, whilst being appalled by Corbyn. Being on the wrong side of metropolitan middle class opinion cost me many friends. Worse, it unmasked me as the wrong kind of gay man. Commissioned articles failed to be published. Artists whose shows or books I’d reviewed, whom I had interviewed when they were just starting out and needed the attention, either unfollowed or blocked me on Twitter. I walked away from what had been a lifelong interest in theatre, weary of the groupthink and bored by propaganda telling the audience what to think that had been ushered in to replace drama.
The throat-clearing is to say that, when they came for Linehan, I was already wise to the mob’s modus operandi and inclined to give him the benefit of any doubt. The great sadness in ‘Tough Crowd’ is that, as Linehan writes, he simply didn’t see it coming. None of us ever does. Anyone who has experienced rejection, loss and character assassination over a difference of opinion will find ‘Tough Crowd’ highly relatable and therapeutic.
Linehan details how he expected previously rock solid friendships and close partnerships to endure once he had stuck his head above the parapet. The deeply unedifying tangle of thorns that represents the last half-decade of Linehan’s life, which includes losing a testicle to cancer (a highlight of this period, the author jokes) is spelt out in impassioned and eloquent prose. Also examined is the psychological torment of having one’s character and reputation traduced whilst the perpetrators of calumnies present themselves as morally virtuous. ‘Tough Crowd’ ably skewers the very idea that the purpose of the cultural battle Linehan fell foul of is ethical rather than ideological. The final chapter, leaving readers with a few shafts of sunlight, is deeply affecting. It is a fitting conclusion for a book that in parts is bound to leave any fair-minded reader shattered and incredulous at the sheer pity of it all.
It’s a safe bet that the writing process for ‘Tough Crowd’ will have brought Linehan some much-needed catharsis. The book is ultimately a plea to readers to stand up for what they believe in and never betray their principles, however high the cost. Other books, such as those by the academic Kathleen Stock and by journalists including Helen Joyce and Douglas Murray provide more extensive analysis of trans ideology and its implications for the rest of society. Having said that, Linehan uses the opportunity presented here to articulately set out his beliefs and why he feels so passionately about his cause. ‘Tough Crowd’ succeeds in giving readers a personal testimony from someone who was in trouble even before their book was published.
And so to the reason for bringing myself into this review. I still regularly play my ‘Father Ted’ DVDs (keep hold of physical copies – the tendrils of cancellation stretch far and wide). I knew instinctively that I wanted to hear Linehan’s story. Yet there is even a risk in favourably reviewing ‘Tough Crowd’, as the online furore over the cover quotations by two notable showbiz friends ably demonstrates. But Linehan’s is a story that calls out to be heard, and I suspect that the later chapters of this book will prove its biggest draw. To recommend it is to take a small stand.
There is something for both of the author’s audiences. Longstanding fans of Linehan’s back catalogue will discover so much about their favourite shows within these pages. Reading the chapters on the auditions process for the main cast of ‘Father Ted’ filled me with joy. Hearing first hand tales about the enigmatic Dermot Morgan, who was tragically gone the moment he achieved wider recognition (“Shame about yer man”), is a real privilege. Linehan talks fondly about the urbane Geoffrey Perkins, the show’s original producer. As an undergraduate, I skipped a lecture to watch Perkins give a talk in the student union, all to hear his memories of making ‘Father Ted’. Almost as many pages are devoted to ‘The IT Crowd’, and readers can find out why the first season of ‘Black Books’ is better than the others. Without too big a spoiler, the story behind Linehan leaving the show is eye-popping, but it neatly foreshadows betrayals of greater magnitude still to come. By the time you learn of a ‘Father Ted’ musical that was canned under pressure from activists, you can only marvel at the scale of the stupidity, cowardice and acquiescence to cultural vandalism gripping the entertainment industry.
‘Tough Crowd’ is a beautifully written memoir that is full of good humour and grace. Affectionate reminiscences about Linehan’s parents are plentiful. An anecdote about his mother discussing small carrots in the local library had me roaring with laughter. Righteous ire is preserved only for moments that truly warrant it, making these passages stronger for its scarcity. The depiction of BAFTA trophies shoved away in a damaged cardboard box on the reverse of the jacket signify acceptance of the termination of that chapter in Linehan’s life. The fact that this happened, and so quickly, is a warning to us all. “Twitter was nice back then, and fun,” Linehan remarks in one passage sure to elicit hollow laughs from more than a few readers. How many livelihoods have been destroyed for saying something someone else didn’t want to hear on social media?
‘Tough Crowd’ is a vivid reminder that the Red Guards of the new Cultural Revolution are highly organised and effective. A state of fear is not the best way to run a society or produce great art. And worst of all it kills the best comedy. Graham Linehan’s ‘Tough Crowd’ is the best account yet of cancellation and a public fall from grace. It comes from the pen of somebody who has first-hand experience of losing so much, but who has lived to tell the tale. As such, Linehan’s voice remains an essential part of the cultural landscape. The best hope is that in years to come, the next generation to discover ‘Father Ted’ will look back on ‘Tough Crowd’ and wonder what the hell we were all thinking to allow the bullies to come so close to crushing a decent man and brilliant comic writer. ‘Tough Crowd’ is an urgent call to arms that we must push back against humourless activists who mistake perpetual offence and outrage for moral virtue.
Oscar Wilde went to his grave believing that polite society would never stage his plays again. Times changed and he is restored as a cultural icon. Perhaps in the future, fans like me will be given the chance to see ‘Father Ted: The Musical’, with Linehan’s name rightfully attached. If it happened in Linehan’s lifetime, it would prove the ultimate vindication. God only knows, it might even drag me back to the West End for one evening only. ‘Tough Crowd’ ought to be the first step towards that recovery.
Publisher: Eye Books Publication date: 12th October 2023 Buy ‘Tough Crowd’
