Fenella Fielding appeared in my first play, The Old Man’s Comforts, in 1972. She arrived for the read-through at the Open Space in London rather late, having been appearing in Euripides at a theatre in the north of England. “Sorry, darling,” she said to me after making her entrance, “I’m not quite all here yet.” “When the rest of you arrives,” I replied, “the effect should be overwhelming.”
It was. The production, which was mostly miscast and somewhat misdirected, was saved by her comedy expertise and her devotion to the young author’s text and intentions. I was grateful and admiring, and always will be.
Perry Pontac
In 2005 I was managing the North Wales Film and Television Trail, and we planned an event in Portmeirion, Gwynedd, to celebrate the location of the 1960s cult series The Prisoner.
Fenella Fielding was the logical choice as she was the voice of the village announcer/telephone operator in the show, and, having heard so much about the unique nature of the place, she was delighted to unveil a plaque there.
I dropped her off at the hotel the night before and arranged to pick her up at 10am so we could drive to the village in time for the ceremony. At 10.45 she wafted down the stairs in a cloud of floral perfume, wearing bright orange lipstick and flowing clothes – looking like her Carry On persona, but so much smaller.
In the car I asked how the room was. “It was beautiful, but oh, daaaaarhling”, she did actually purr, “That mattress in the room was so hard that one could not pooooossibly entertain a lover on it.”
She delivered a great speech and made every fan who greeted her feel as if they were the only one and their questions and comments were a joy.
On receiving an ice cream she gave a squeak and said: “I have been waiting for this for so many years.” The highlight for me? Holding her by the arm as we made our way down the hill – what a lady.
Richard Coombs
I remember Fenella Fielding from the late 1940s and early 50s when we were both members of St John’s Wood Jewish youth club. Fenella performed in a sort of cabaret where she “sang” a piece in her gravelly, sexy voice, in the role of a railway station announcer: “When I say ‘Woking, Woking’ all the men say I’m provoking …”
Anthony Tibber
