While John Alderton provided a more forceful James Herriot, with a flash of humour always evident, Colin Blakely’s role as Siegfried was more subdued than the portrayal by Anthony Hopkins. Although he brought some wonderful comedy to the part, there was hardly a trace of the spontaneous eccentricity that was the hallmark of the real man. This was partly because Alf insisted on some changes since he was not prepared to upset Donald again. After reading the scripts in advance of shooting, he was adamant that the peaks and troughs of Siegfried’s character be smoothed out.
Joan and Alf approved of all the actresses who played the part of Helen in the films and television series, but Lisa Harrow was their favourite. She never forgot her role in the Herriot films and kept in touch with Alf and Joan for years afterwards.
As before, we went to watch the shooting on several occasions, and all agreed that the background of the wild fellsides and dales added an authenticity that was missing from the first film. Alf was particularly pleased that the scenery of the Yorkshire Dales was going to be shared with so many others.
Many of his friends went with him to watch the filming, Brian, Denton Pette – and Donald, too. Denton was intrigued to observe Richard Pearson’s portrayal of his own character, Granville Bennett. At the time, Denton owned an MGB and the boot of the car had been lovingly converted into a bar, stocked with a fine selection of beers and spirits. The actors and film crew were not slow to avail themselves of Denton’s extraordinary hospitality, and Rosie remembers arriving one day above Keld in the upper reaches of Swaledale, to be greeted by a smiling Denton with the words, ‘Rosie, my dear! A small aperitif, perhaps?’
On these trips into the Dales, there was someone else who appreciated the odd tipple from Denton’s ‘mobile pub’ – an old friend and colleague of his, and Alf’s, called Basil Aylward. Basil, the veterinary surgeon from Richmond in lower Swaledale, was the veterinary advisor to the film – Alf having again declined to play any major part in its production.
The mischievously-smiling Basil, a bon viveurin a similar mould to Denton, was another colleague in whose company Alf laughed continuously. One of their favourite meeting places was the Black Bull at Moulton, near Richmond, where many a good tale was told over a few beers and the magnificent seafood that is the speciality of the house.
Basil, a born raconteur, was able to recall a seemingly endless store of highly entertaining tales of mishaps and calamities which typify the life of the veterinary surgeon. It is the disasters which befall our colleagues that are so much more interesting to listen to than their triumphs, and this open admission of his own fallibility was an endearing feature of Basil’s personality.
In his fourth book, Vet in Harness, James Herriot describes an incident in which he travels with Granville Bennett to a veterinary society meeting in Appleby. They drive over the moors in a violent snowstorm but, amazingly, arrive safely. After the meeting, he and Granville – fortified with good food and fine ale – return at incredible speed over the wild, snowbound road, only to discover the following morning that the road on which they had just travelled was reported to have been blocked for days!
It was, in fact, that redoubtable pair, Basil and Denton, who made the white-knuckle ride to Appleby and back, and it was after hearing about it from Basil one night that Alf took out his notebook and marked the incident as one to form the basis of a good story in a future book. This is another example of his using author’s licence; the story did not happen as he told it but, as with so many others, it was based upon a real incident.
‘It Shouldn’t Happen to a Vet’ was another box office success. As excellent family viewing, it was a change from the increasingly violent films that were being released at the time. Although Alf, in fact, enjoyed many films in which sex and violence were the prominent feature, he was still pleased that this wholesome film was one to which the whole family could be taken safely.
Donald seemed to approve of the way that he was portrayed this time. We were all very relieved, especially as one scene in the film compares Siegfried with Adolf Hitler, describing him as a ‘mad sod!’ Alf seemed to be more upset about this than Donald who, after completion of the film’s shooting, threw a big party in Southwoods Hall for all the cast and several of his friends. Donald was in great form at the party, laughing and chatting with everyone. Who could have forecast the throwing of such a party when, two years earlier, he was threatening his partner with litigation?
John Rush, the agent in charge of film and television rights at David Higham, in common with many others, always thought that the Herriot books were not ideal material from which to make a feature film and that, being episodic, they were far better suited to a television series.
Before the making of the first film, he had tried unsuccessfully to interest television companies, but it was not until after the release of the second film that the idea for a television series was put into place. David Susskind, the American who owned the right to produce any spin-off series following the films, eventually sold his interest to the BBC and, in 1977, a new group of actors assembled in the Yorkshire Dales. James Herriot’s stories were to be filmed yet again, but this time, they were to be beamed into the homes of millions.
The books and films had made the name of James Herriot famous but the television series, ‘All Creatures Great and Small’, turbocharged his popularity. It was after this series that the number of tourists visiting Thirsk rocketed to unbelievable proportions. His famous characters had now infiltrated people’s sitting-rooms and they liked what they saw.
Once again, Alf took a back seat when it came to being involved in the production. He approved the scripts – many of which followed the storylines of the books closely – but nothing more. He was quite content just to pay regular visits into the Dales to watch the actors at work. Jack Watkinson, the vet in Leyburn, acted as veterinary advisor in the Dales, while, with much of the studio work being shot in the Midlands, my father’s old friend, Eddie Straiton, provided the professional expertise.
The part of James Herriot was played by Christopher Timothy. Up until this time, he was not well known to the public but it took only one or two episodes on the television to propel him to stardom.
Chris Timothy developed a lasting respect for Alf Wight, a man he felt proud to have played. He was diffident about meeting him for the first time but, after his first introduction on the film set in the Dales, was soon put at his ease.
While fishing in Swaledale one day, and sensing a tap on his shoulder, he turned round to face a man he did not know.
‘Are you Chris Timothy?’ asked the stranger.
‘I am,’ replied Chris.
The man continued in a quiet Scottish burr, ‘Well … I am your alter ego.’
Chris liked him from that first meeting and he never lost his affection for my father, whom he described many years later, as a ‘private, totally approachable, totally delightful, up-front guy’.
For their part, of all the stars Alf and Joan met during those intoxicating years, Chris has been the one who has kept in touch with the family more closely than any other. He continues to visit my mother whenever he is nearby, and often sends letters from abroad whenever his acting engagements take him further afield. Chris, who has appeared on many factual programmes about James Herriot, has been incredibly supportive of anything that has involved the man to whom he feels he owes so much. His role as the famous vet, one which gave an enormous boost to his career, is something he has never forgotten.