Olly Alexander says It's A Sin helped him confront his 'fear of HIV and sex'... as Tatler cover star reveals what he really thinks of his Eurovision nightmare
Set against the backdrop of 1980s London, the Russell T. Davies scripted It's A Sin won multiple awards for its heart wrenching portrayal of a gay community torn apart by the ravages of AIDS.
But it was Olly Alexander who commanded the screen as Richie Tozer - a fun-loving young actor who would ultimately fall victim to the disease.
Already established as lead singer of pop group Years & Years, Alexander, 35, consequently received multiple award nominations, while the show earned a BAFTA TV win for its harrowing portrayal of a society left blindsided by the AIDS crisis.
Reflecting on his involvement in the Channel 4 mini-series with the September issue of Tatler, the British star admitted accepting the role helped him face an uncomfortable truth.
He said: 'I didn't realise it until I went towards it, but I had inherited this fear around HIV and sex, which is connected to the shame I had about being gay.
'It helped me unpack all of that. I never understood actors who say they brought their characters home with them until I did.'
In It's A Sin, Tozer is an openly gay man among friends, but remains closeted to his parents until they are forced to confront his sexuality head on after discovering he has AIDS.
While Alexander has always been open about his own sexuality off-screen, he admits a media advisor warned him not to 'come out' to the public when he first entered the music industry in his twenties.
'You'd never give that advice now, and it was terrible advice then,' he said. 'I knew it was never really going to be an option for me, but it did feel like a fork-in-the-road moment.'
But North Yorkshire born Alexander admits his own journey as a young gay man confronted by the bright lights of London mirrors that of Tozer.
'I feel like a lot of my identity has been fostered in London,' he said. 'I was a very young gay boy, too scared to go out until I was 20.
'Then I would just go to every club: Madame Jojo's, East Bloc, Dalston Superstore, The Joiners Arms and The George and Dragon.
'I was there every weekend, trying to find my people. It was just joyful chaos.'
Away from the small screen, Alexander released solo album Polari - his first without Years & Years - in February, just nine months after representing the United Kingdom at the Eurovision Song Contest.
With his pop star pedigree, there were high hopes for the singer after he announced his involvement in the annual competition and unveiled his chosen song, the upbeat electro-pop single Dizzy.
But it would end in bitter disappointment for Alexander after a sexually charged performance at Sweden's Malmö Arena failed to impress viewers across mainland Europe, with the United Kingdom winning 46 points and finishing in a miserable 18th place.
'Now that I've had a bit of time away, I'm so proud I got to do it,' he told Tatler. 'But it was also very stressful, it can be very vulnerable and isolating.'
After years of failure at the competition, Alexander admits he'd predicted the outcome long before he took to the stage.
'Everyone said, 'You're going to bring it home, Olly'', he recalled. 'I knew I wouldn't.'
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Daily Mail
27 minutes ago
- Daily Mail
I worked on The Big Breakfast - one presenter hated the chaos on set and there's a simple reason we could NEVER make a show like it now
A former The Big Breakfast worker has lifted the lid on the 'shambolic' scenes on set - and the simple reason a show like it could never be made today. Beverley Cuddy is the editor of Dogs Today magazine and has appeared on the show numerous times with canine-related content. The Big Breakfast first aired in 1992, redefining morning television with its contagious energy and chaotic charm. Broadcast live from a real house in East London, the Channel 4 show marked a radical departure from the polished presenters and professional scripts of traditional breakfast shows. Instead, the daytime slot relied on a faster paced, slapstick humour and unpredictable antics to draw viewers in. The show launched the careers of an array of presenters, including Chris Evans, Gaby Roslin, Johnny Vaughan and Denise Van Outen. It also featured appearances from Hollywood A-listers, like Britney Spears, Samuel L. Jackson and Beyoncé. Speaking on behalf of Smooth Spins, journalist Beverley said the show would never work today owing to its 'shambolic' nature. 'It was so wonderfully chaotic and shambolic,' she said. 'Nowadays, you'd have to sign so many releases, and it would be a health and safety nightmare. It was a great time in television, and I look back on it fondly.' Beverley described an incident when her magazine was running a campaign to stop cosmetic tail docking, and the Big Breakfast producers decided to do a 'Rear Of The Year' segment showing dogs' natural tails. 'They had a massive garden, so they encouraged us to invite as many dogs as possible,' she said. 'The night before the segment, the man who ran the actual Rear Of The Year threatened to sue. 'It caused a bit of drama, and we had to scramble around and come up with a new name and rebrand everything.' Beverley told how, once, the producers wanted her to help with a prank on journalist Esther Rantzen. 'She was hosting a lot of shows that celebrated dogs who could do amazing things, so they thought it would be funny if we presented her with a load of dogs who couldn't do anything. 'They also wanted one of the dogs to be a cat, so my deputy Claire insisted her cat Nobby go on,' Beverley continued. 'He was stressed during the journey to the house, so he peed all over her, and then he ran off during the segment. I think Claire got so stressed, so she told the presenter Zoe Ball to f*** off live on air.' But the show bosses embraced the chaos, and Beverley insisted the 'loved it when things went wrong.' 'No one was precious,' she added. 'The presenters were all normal and got on with everyone on set. 'Some of the presenters, like Paul O'Grady and Mark Little, were natural comedians, so they rose to the challenge.' But, according to Beverley, not every brain behind the show was comfortable with the madness. 'Zoe Ball was a bit more of a traditional presenter, so she always seemed a bit stressed when things didn't go to plan.' Of presenter Paul O'Grady, Beverley said the 'kind and genuine' drag queen and comedian was wonderful to work with. 'He was amazing as Lily [Savage, his drag persona] and so quick-witted. If anything went wrong, he handled it like a pro. 'You could tell back then how much he loved dogs, so it was wonderful that he went on to be involved so heavily with them.' When asked what the presenters were like off camera, Beverley responded: 'I went on the show so much that I worked with pretty much all the different hosts throughout the years. Everyone was really lovely and charming.' A special feature of the Big Breakfast show was the London brick house in which it was filmed. An eccentric location for an equally eccentric programme, Beverley calls the filming site 'dingy' and 'grim'. 'I have no idea why they picked that location,' she laughed. 'It was a dingy house and not in great condition. 'It was not photogenic, and the bits you didn't see off camera were worse. It was dirty and certainly not flash. 'I don't ever remember there being space for make-up artists or anything like that. It was cramped, and there were so many windows that they probably affected the lighting. The location made everything harder.' Beverley remembers one of the more memorable segments from the show where the focus was dogs that look like real people, based on a feature her magazine had run. 'The Big Breakfast loved it, so we were tasked with finding dogs that looked like the presenters. 'We found a red Griffon Bruxellois that looked like Chris Evans and a beautiful Afghan Hound that was Gabby Roslin. 'We brought the dogs to the house and, during an ad break, the dogs took the place of the presenters. They all behaved amazingly well. 'We also did this wild segment around the time of a general election, where we had to ask everyone at Crufts how their dogs would vote. 'We had a ballot boxer, which was a ballot box in the shape of a dog, and we invited politicians to be interviewed and tell us their dogifestos.' Beverley's time on the show was not without its star-studded moments. For one competition segment, she was on a judging panel with 'someone from Pink Floyd', and the host was Paul O'Grady as Lily Savage. And The Big Breakfast even saw young stars before catching their big break. 'I'm not sure if our paths crossed on The Big Breakfast, but Tom Hardy was on the show as a young model and must have seen our segments because he reached out and was desperate to get his dogs in our magazine,' Beverley remembered. 'None of us knew who he was at the time, but he'd call us every week. We kept fobbing him off, but then we agreed to let a work experience girl interview him. So that was Tom Hardy's first big interview.' It was not all glamour behind the scenes, Beverley says, and the guests were subjected to an experience as 'dingy' as the house. 'Some shows have green rooms, but The Big Breakfast had a rather dingy portacabin we were all crowded into. 'It was quite shabby. There was no hierarchy, and you were lucky if you had a cup of tea.' Among the eclectic mix of presenters, though, things were good. Beverley said Gabby Roslin and Chris Evans were 'so close.' She added: 'They were practically like brother and sister, and you could tell they really worked well as a pair.' As for Beverley herself, who became involved with the show through her friendship with newsreader Peter Smith, she got on best with presenter Chris. 'We still talk even now,' she said. 'Funnily enough, he reached out to me a few years after he'd left The Big Breakfast because he'd got a dog who became ill and sought the help of a vet who was doing pioneering surgery. 'He was so impressed, he asked me if Dogs Today would interview the vet. That vet turned out to be Noel Fitzpatrick, aka the Supervet. So that was a nice start to his now amazing career.'
Glasgow Times
29 minutes ago
- Glasgow Times
The ‘exceptional' London pub created by Guy Ritchie
The Lore of the Land pub on Conway Street was created by none other than acclaimed director and writer, Guy Ritchie. Ritchie has created many hit films, including Snatch, Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, The Gentlemen, Sherlock Holmes, Aladdin and many more. Known for creating fast-paced action and gangster style films, Ritchie is one of the most successful directors of today, with his combined films earning more than £1.5 billion at the worldwide box office. But, away from making hit films, Ritchie also has a passion for pubs, owning and helping create the Lore of the Land. The London pub owned by Hollywood's Guy Ritchie On its website, the Lore of the Land is self-described as a "unique pub and restaurant" that captures "all that is best about historic English Lore". Set across three floors, the pub has a restaurant on its first floor that "delivers a menu inspired to showcase the best of British food and seasonal ingredients". The Lore of the Land offers a range of menus, including a daily menu, pub and kitchen and steak and fine wine options along with Sunday Roasts. Sharing what guests can expect from meals at Ritchie's pub, the website reads: "Experience the sight and sound of our open kitchen with the chefs cooking on our bespoke, charcoal fuelled oven and grill." Menu items at the Lore of the Land include mico poached pollock, caponata, smoked almonds and basil for £31 and a braised lamb shoulder with minted peas, black garlic, anchovies and shiso for £35. Every Friday night, the pub hosts a special steak and fine wine night, offering a range of steaks including flat iron, sirloin, rib-eye and chateaubriand. The Lore of the Land has earned rave reviews on Tripadvisor, with a 4.2 out of 5 rating from more than 180 reviews. One guest to Ritchie's pub shared: "Charming old British pub vibes in the most beautiful building." Recommended Reading Adding: "We thoroughly enjoyed our evening at Lore of the Land, the staff really made us feel welcome." Another guest said: "I am rarely inspired to write reviews, but this was literally flawless. The food was absolutely exceptional. "Hard to say what was the highlight, but the venison tartare and the doughnut for dessert were both out of this world."
The Herald Scotland
2 hours ago
- The Herald Scotland
I found Sarah Vine's book unexpectedly heart-wrenching
If you were an aspiring politician seeking to annexe a seat anywhere south of Liverpool (and you'd be amazed how many Scots have done so) then be conversant with this woman's weekly chronicles. When I met her to discuss her book amidst the streets that form her Kensington hunting grounds, she'd written that day about the kitchen psycho-drama of Prince Harry's fractured (and probably irredeemable) relationship with his father, King Charles. In Scotland, we who fancy ourselves to be above these royal tribulations, dismiss them and cite them as evidence in the case against the Union. In England though, and most especially in working-class neighbourhoods, the Windsors' bizarre rituals are Shakespearian. They take sides and cheer on their champions from this cursed House. Read more Kevin McKenna: It's not long though – just a few pages, really – until (horror of horrors) you find yourself emotionally captured by her story of being married to the former Tory cabinet minister, Michael Gove. And how a once happy union was chiselled out by Brexit and by the class structure that still exists at the top of the Tories on which they spend a lot of money and time to conceal from the rest of us. You begin investing in this story about how Westminster's political thresher (and maybe Holyrood's too) can steal your soul if you're foolish enough to believe you can surf it and remain upright. It's also about surviving as a woman amidst the casual sexism that still pervades my industry and the outright misogyny that runs through Big Politics. There are startling moments, not least an egregiously misogynistic insult aimed at her by the comedian, Stewart Lee, in his Observer column. 'As a student, David Cameron is rumoured to have put his penis into a dead pig. To outdo him, Michael Gove put his penis into a Daily Mail journalist.' On a family trip to New York, they're spotted by another British couple. Not even the presence of their two children – 10 and 12 – spares them. 'W****** like you shouldn't be allowed to have children,' shouted the woman. 'The point I was trying to make, is one about the one process of dehumanisation,' she tells me. 'They don't see you as a person. I write for the Daily Mail and I was married to a Tory. So the normal rules of decency are suspended.' Vine admires current Conservative leader Kemi Badenoch (Image: Stefan Rousseau) She admires the current Conservative leader, Kemi Badenoch. 'She's got the balls to do it; she's got the appetite and is feisty and she has a vision and isn't afraid to ram it home. We're told that one dog year equals seven human years. It's the same with politicians.' She's right, of course. Politicians seem to age before our eyes in the term of a single parliament. Ms Vine's story – even without the politics and the tiaras – is a compelling one. Of a girl living in Italy where her affluent parents had moved to embrace la dolce vita amidst their extra-marital affairs and the tantrums that followed them and who felt like an ugly duckling in a school full of young Mediterranean beauties. Of being psychologically abused by her dad, who seemed embarrassed at his daughter's physical appearance (she still frets about her weight and discusses her alopecia and her anti-depressants). One entry leaves you shredded. It's when, as a teenager, she returns to Italy for the summer from boarding school in England where she'd starved herself into something approaching svelte. Her dad now felt she was fit enough for him to be seen in public with her in Italian café society, at one point instructing her 'to wiggle for a table'. I found this heart-wrenching to the extent that I immediately resolved to call my own two daughters and just, you know, be closer to them. What things were said and unsaid; how many were the hugs not given? She tells me that the stuff about her dad needed to be in there 'to explain who I am and what I am and why I'm so flawed'. She'd sent the book to her brother. 'Is this okay? You were there too; you remember all that stuff.' He'd called and said: 'Sarah, honestly, you've been far too nice.' She had called her dad to tell him there was material in the book he may find uncomfortable. 'He said 'Oh alright then, and went back to watching the telly'.' Back to England then and university (languages) and falling into journalism after a fateful encounter with some of Fleet Street's finest in one of their taverns. And then meeting Michael Gove on a skiing trip with the nucleus of what would later be called 'the Notting Hill Set': There's a perception among Scottish journalists that the old English newspaper titles are populated by the scions of old families who weren't considered smart enough for high political office and thus favours had to be called in. Ms Vine though, is a proper old-school journalist who has held down most jobs in the gnarly business of producing newsprint. There's no question of her not having earned her position. I was once asked what had made the Mail so popular across all classes in England. The best I could come up with was that they represented the Margo Leadbetter character in The Good Life. In one episode, she's in a long Post Office queue being truculently fobbed off at the counter. 'I am the voice of the Silent Majority,' she'd said. Margo seemed to embody those English stereotypes we both love and hate: of enduring challenges with stalwart resilience because, well … being English obliges you to care without showing it; to be silent in adversity, confident perhaps that you'll have your moment and that it will be a terrible one indeed. I love them for it and loathe them in equal measure. Perhaps though, it's that early Italian influence on Ms Vine that enkindled her desire in this book to settle a few scores; to chivvy those who were inconstant or who disappeared when she was deemed no longer to possess a social cachet. It's not revenge, as such, more an abjuration that they should perhaps have known that this day would come when the smart, sassy columnist – the Wednesday Witch in Daily Mail parlance – would strap on her stilettoes and have her day in long form with one of Britain's top publishers. The inside story of Brexit and how it laid waste to relationships and brought families to the brink of breaking up is a dominant theme. Did it wreck her own – happy – marriage to Michael Gove who is now out of politics entirely? Or, would they still have split? Would he always have been drawn like a moth to the flame of politics; while she with her daily, acerbic registers refused to adopt the role of dutiful Tory wife bred to endure and to absorb and to be silent? In the end it wasn't a clash of personalities, or infidelity or excessive drinking; or abnormal behaviour which sealed the split, but the sight of her husband choosing to absent himself with a book in the upstairs bedroom of their new home while she and her elderly mum (who had flown from Italy to help with the flitting) did all the heavy lifting. Before then, a sense of isolation had begun to settle on them both. The gradual, wretched realisation that for all their brains and unprivileged endeavour; for their wit and charisma, they'd never quite been accepted within their set. And that, when the chips were down and the balloon was up and the lights had gone out, a process of social exclusion by stealth was well underway. They had committed the cardinal sin of failing to acknowledge their place in the grand scheme: deference to the upper classes of High Toryism. To the naked, unschooled eye, they were both at the very apex of England's social, political and cultural food chain. But when Michael Gove had defied his friend, David Cameron, by becoming a chief Brexiteer and Sarah Vine had backed him they were brutally disabused of any notions about parity of esteem. Read more Kevin McKenna: In these circles, your status is conferred for eternity by the title deeds of 13th century land-grabs. They were best of friends with David and Samantha Cameron and Ms Vine had been Godmother to their daughter. When you step outside the role laid down for you though – absolute obeisance – you get voided. The book though, also slakes your appetite for dinner party capers among the horsey set and names are dropped like confetti. It's all rather glorious and we're treated to occasional forays into the inter-marital houghmagandie of the upper crust, because, we all know that the High Tories are all fond of their shagging and probably still claim a bit of your 'droit de seigneur' This is most memorably narrated when a bright and loyal Tory adviser, is hinted to be conducting an affair with Samantha Cameron's stepfather, William Astor. This unravelled in what seemed a most cut-glass, English manner. There were no names and no big red-top screamer … just an unmarked entry by the Mail's kenspeckle diarist, Richard Kay hinting at a tryst. And lo, she was gone and never heard of again, while the old goat emerged relatively unscathed. It's here that I must offer some words of advice to Ms Vine. If her book makes it into paperback and thence into a Netflix adaptation (virtually guaranteed) please be rid of the cover on this hardback edition. It's dreadful and exceedingly low-calibre, showing a woman lying fully prone and face down. It channels an energy that's entirely at odds with the dynamics of Ms Vine's rise, fall and recovery. How Not to be a Political Wife: HarperCollins £20
