At a Glance
- Jonathan Lynn reflects on the origins of Yes, Minister and its inspiration from real-life government.
- The original concept emerged from extensive research into how government and the Civil Service operate.
- Political advisers and senior politicians helped shape the series with real stories and experiences.
- Lynn discusses why he revisited Jim Hacker and Sir Humphrey in I’m Sorry, Prime Minister.
- The new play explores ageing, power, politics and contemporary issues including free speech and Brexit.
- The creator shares his personal connection to Bath and the Theatre Royal.
INTERVIEW WITH JONATHAN LYNN
Where did the original Yes, Minister idea come from?
In 1976, 50 years ago, Antony Jay suggested that we write a comedy series about the Civil Service. A tall thin man with wispy grey hair, he had been Head of the BBC department that made That Was The Week That Was and created the format for The Frost Report. We buried ourselves in research, deciding that our comedy would work best if it revealed how our government really worked in practice – not least because we discovered the truth was more absurd than anything we might have invented. Wondering how to fit this huge subject into a sitcom, I saw that a government department could be represented by just three characters: the Minister, the Permanent Secretary and – caught in between them – the Minister’s Private Secretary who owes absolute discretion and loyalty to both, the servant of two masters. The other comedy model was Bertie Wooster and Jeeves: the master who is less able than the servant.
How did the initial series develop and what influenced it?
People assumed the series was about the Thatcher government because it was first broadcast in 1980, the year she came to power, but our two principal sources were from the Labour Party, the party in power when we wrote the first series – influential advisers Bernard Donoughue and Marcia Willims helped us in confidence with lots of ideas mainly based on true events and introduced us to potential sources who were strangely willing to talk to us once they knew that we would never reveal their names. Bernard and Marcia later outed themselves when the show was successful, as did Michael Heseltine. He proved on one occasion to be a particularly agreeable lunchtime companion. On the second bottle of fine claret, he remarked that it was a certainty that the government would be re-elected; he took out his wallet, tapped it and said, “Voters only care what’s in this.” Presumably he meant their wallets, not his. In general, we found that the higher politicians had risen, the more indiscreet they became: a bottle or two of good claret with lunch and they would tell you anything.
At the very beginning, we wrote a pitch and sent it to John Howard Davies, Head of Comedy at BBC. He commissioned a pilot script for BBC 2 for £1200, six hundred quid each. We decided to call the pilot Open Government because almost everyone including Jim was talking about transparency. Sir Humphrey wasn’t, and explained, “You can be open, or you can have government”.
What inspired you to revisit the world of Jim Hacker and Sir Humphrey in I’m Sorry, Prime Minister, and why now?
I’m 83 years old. I wanted to write a play about old age, how it feels. Loss of power, loss of control, loss of income, loss of friends and family. It occurred to me that Jim Hacker and Sir Humphrey would now be about the same age as me and it seemed an obvious step to use these characters who have been so beloved by British audiences. Why now? As I said, I’m 83 years old. If not now, when?
How does it celebrate the legacy while appealing to today’s audiences?
This run of I’m Sorry, Prime Minister concludes their lives and their stories, separately and together, while still addressing current topics.
What themes feel most relevant to modern politics, and why do audiences connect with satire?
Apart from the themes mentioned above, the play is full of comment, discussion and debate about many current issues. Free speech, cancellation in academic circles, diversity, the after-effects of Brexit. Do audiences continue to connect with satire? I don’t know that they do. It depends on the satire. But they connect with comedy!
If audiences could take one thing away from the show, what do you hope that is?
I hope that they leave the theatre feeling that they had a good night out.
Do you have any specific links to the theatres on the UK tour?
Bath is my home town. I was born there and lived there until I was 18. My first theatre experience was at the Theatre Royal, aged four, where I saw Dick Whittington, the greatest experience of my life so far. It starred Jimmy Mac, a hilarious, Glasgow comedian whom I shall never forget.