INTERVIEW: 19

Please note that some of the additional information provided here by the journalist named below may not be accurate, so it should be treated with caution.

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September 1972

Peter Wyngarde Or Is It Really Jason King?

Spend an evening with him and decide for yourself who is influencing whom and, at the same time, discover the vulnerable side of this colourful actor.

“Are you ready for a couple of parties tonight in Kilburn and South Ockendon?” That assured voice that needs absolutely no further description to viewers of Department S. He said it as if rare magic awaited in these two exotic locales. “Debbie wants to come too,” he went on, “and as a blonde in a chiffon see-through blouse might amuse them, maybe we should take her. But this time we’ll have to take a dictionary for her to study in the car. Otherwise, it takes so long explaining the meaning of every other word”.

It was raining heavily when I reached the Wyngarde flat, on the ground floor of a Georgian house in London’s fashionable Kensington. Debbie – a breath-taking if more than slightly dizzy model in her early 20s opened the front door – hurriedly kissed my cheek and rushed back to the lounge where Peter was lying across a buttoned leather couch looking tanned and terrific. The tan came from two months in Australia where his series has topped everything else in the ratings. It wasn’t too difficult for him to look terrific as our favourite blonde laid herself beside him, closed her eyes, and wrapped her arms around him as if every moment had to be savoured.

I began wondering if playing Jason King on the show was really just Peter Wyngarde playing himself, when his large Afghan hound, Yousef, trotted forward, grabbed a mouthful of Debbie’s black crepe trousers and started pulling determinedly. Diverting his attention, Peter produced a rubber ball, threw it in the corner and the four legs shot quite determinedly after it.

“Let me get you a little drink,” offered Debbie, “‘cause I need another little gin”.

On the coffee table I notice to copy of ‘Which?’ magazine in which the Consumer Association reports on products they have tested each month. “I’ve been reading all about witches lately because my aunt was one,” Debbie said. Peter started an explanatory sentence and then stopped as if realising that it wouldn’t really help.

Yousef had begun running around the room as if it were a greyhound stadium, and lamp shades were rocking precariously.

Peter led him away before throwing a white feather boa over Debbie’s shoulders and whisking us through a few yards of torrential rain to his Bentley. We’d been driving several minutes before I realised that the amply-filled gin glass was still being nursed lovingly in her hands.

Party No.1 in Kilburn was being given by a young man called Brian Chatham who ran a pop group called Flaming Youth[1] that Peter raved about. The first Wyngarde LP was issued recently, mostly comprising of his talking – with the exception of one track, a French number, which revealed an equally impressive singing voice. Peter is considering several offers to perform in cabaret, with Flaming Youth lending moral support.

We didn’t stay long at the first party. For as I interviewed a shapely Bunny Girl about the Playboy club, Debbie was refilling her glass enough to make a formidable stain when she emptied gin and tonic by accident – she solemnly assured us – down another model’s red dress.

“Shall I drop you off at your place now?” he questioned when we were back in the Bentley, holding the wheel with Jason King decisiveness. Debbie whispered that she was perfectly alright as she cuddled closer to him.

Party No.2 took some finding. We finally located it on the ground floor of a block of flats in South Ockendon; it was being given by Danny someone, Peter’s painter and decorator.

“It’s a bit of a safari,” he explained as we arrived, “but I’ve been invited to five previous excitements there and never made it. If I don’t this time, someone is bound to accuse me of being too big time to bother”.

Debbie might have been Brigitte Bardot for the impact she cast. Within two minutes, a dozen tough-looking males in suits were listening to her hold forth as she stood sipping from the same glass in the kitchen, directly beneath a bare 150-Watt bulb. Various other gentlemen of the parish dragged their nervous, but excited, wives into the Wyngarde presence stating: “When you’re on she won’t leave the telly alone”. After this had happened a dozen times, Peter began to wane visibly, I was chatting to a local welder about a little period during which he had been detained in Brixton Prison, when Peter pleaded in a desperate voice: “I must go soon and make sure Yousef takes those powders for his stomach disorder”.

We found that, for some obscure reason, Debbie was standing on the kitchen table demonstrating a dance routine she had performed on a TV commercial recently. A selection of heavily-panting young men were watching her every movement as Peter folded his arms, leaned against the door and almost yawned as he inquired: “Do you plan to stay, Madam, or do your entire act?”

Distant thunder sounded ominously as we finally drove off, most of the party goers were standing on the curb in the pouring rain waving to us. “It was fun,” Debbie sighed before falling asleep, and I eased the glass from her fingers.

When we stopped at her block in Chelsea, Peter gently lifted her into his arms and carried her upstairs. Then we drove back to his place and he made coffee.

“I often feel I’d love children,” he continued slowly and thoughtfully, but I’m so set in my ways I wouldn’t be easy to live with now. The only marriage that I could see working for me is where we lived in our own separate establishments and came together for a few days a week. I’ve had my freedom for so long that I relish it more than anything. Also, I’m far more suspicious of women than I used to be. I’ve been let down by them in the past and it’s left me hesitant now of getting involved”.

In the past he’d mentioned a girl he’d been in love with, and an affair that lasted three years[2]. I asked him if he was thinking of that time and the actress, who we’ll call ‘Elaine’.

He nodded and studied the ceiling a while: “Maybe I’ve been too career minded sometimes. I’ve never hesitated to do acting jobs that took me away for months on end. Elaine was in a long run in the West End while I recorded several TV plays in New York, and the day I returned she went on tour for months. Many actresses seem to tell themselves that their love-life is something that they can come back to, and devote time to, when they are big stars. Our relationship was a fatal combination as I was probably telling myself the same thing.

“I’ve read about, and can understand, the strain of wartime marriages and the problems couples had staying faithful to someone they didn’t see for months, or even years, on end. One needs to be very undersexed to stay faithful to someone who is out of sight for long periods. She hasn’t made it big yet, but she could still do it. Luck is such an important factor in show business”.

Peter eyes were closed and I waited for him to continue. He didn’t and, eventually, as I crept away, I felt that his memory of it was slowly diminishing. For as I open the door and faced the early morning rain, his regular breathing told me he was asleep.

Interview by Mike McGrath.

Notes: [1]. Flaming Youth were a British rock band in the late 1960s. They are now remembered as Phil Collins’ first band to have a professional recording deal. [2]. Peter is referring to his relationship with Vivien Leigh.