The storyteller
Before Tim Burton entertained children and adults alike with the macabre, the dangerous and the devilishly detailed, Roald Dahl was doing it for absolutely ages! And he was doing it fabulously. Not beholden to the screen of somebody else’s imagination, Dahl’s monstrosities took place in your own childish mind, with atrocities and peril taking on the particular spin of the various weights and measures of how tired you were, what happened that day at school, and what injustice had stung most, the recent events colouring quite how the stories were painted in the mind. With the occasional nudge from a scratchy Quentin Blake illustration. Aren’t books great?
As a part of the Perspectives series, David Walliams (acclaimed children’s author himself, he reminds us) examines the life and works of one Mr Roald Dahl. From the Norwegian fairytales his mother would tell him – filled with humour, darkness and trolls – to his own personally tinged tragedies of the loss of his father and sister at a young age, as well as his darling daughter when she was only seven years old, Dahl’s constructed world was filled with the fairness so absent in the world, and also a brutality to instigate it. Plus – really importantly – an absolute glee and mischief-making comedy that holds it all together better than the binder in George’s Marvellous Medicine. As Tim Minchin, writer of the songs from the West End hit, Matilda, says: “Without the jokes, it’s child abuse”.
There are some deliciously good interviews involved in this programme. As well as the still interesting academics – biographers of Dahl and his influences – there’s also talking heads interviews from Anthony Horowitz, Michael Rosen, and Joanna Lumley, as well as chats between Walliams and Dahl’s widow Lici and long-time collaborator Quentin Blake.
“The music of ‘In The Hall Of The Mountain King’ sparkles and dances through my ear canals”
Of course, there’s also the children. Not of his blood but of his spirit. I know that sounds poncy, but the sheer spirit of adventure and wonder captured here is such fun that their faces as Walliams takes over a school room and concocts a brand new ‘marvellous medicine’ with them, complete with bunsen burners and beakers, recreates a bit of the awe I first felt when I initially came across these stories. Visions of Rik Mayall’s award-winning telling of George’s Marvellous Medicine (now that was a Jackanory never to be forgotten) wash in front of my eyes and the music of ‘In The Hall Of The Mountain King’ sparkles and dances through my ear canals. Disgusting I know, but resonant.
From his ‘hut’ in the garden, Dahl manifested a world I adored, and is currently delighting the concerned minds of my own small neicephews. It doesn’t date, it doesn’t lose its appeal. I sort of forgot that in the sea of ‘grown up’ literature scattered on and around my bedside table. Carefully, Walliams doesn’t try to show film clips or other interpretations, simply reading the stories out loud to entranced youngsters (and oldsters), the only variations shown being those created and rejected by the man himself. It’s true to Dahl’s voice, and to the medium of storytelling. Captivating and a little bit otherworldy throughout.
David Walliams: The Genius Of Dahl, ITV1,
Sunday 22 April
