With her laconic delivery, Diane Morgan has brought a host of comedy characters to life, most notably Philomena Cunk. But with her latest, Mandy, she wanted to create someone who was just plain silly
In August 2020, only days before the pilot episode of Mandy was set to be broadcast, Diane Morgan picked up her phone and prepared to call a bigwig at the BBC. “I’m really sorry,” she’d envisioned herself saying, “but there’s absolutely no way you can let this thing go out.” She was ready to beg – to offer whatever cash, bribe or bargain necessary. Nothing was off the table in her effort to ensure the refreshingly ridiculous, six-part comedy series she’d directed, starred in and scripted ever reached the nation’s TVs.
This might sound strange: Morgan has quite the track record when it comes to shining on the small screen. She was elevated to cult sensation in 2013 while inhabiting her role as the simultaneously inept and insightful spoof interviewer Philomena Cunk: “How did Winston Churchill come to invent Tipp-Ex?” she asked one historian. Or: If horses used to be so good at drawing carriages, why are they no longer any good at art? From there, her deadpan demeanour landed her leading roles in the three seasons of the BBC’s much-loved Motherland – a nit-infested, school-gates sitcom of Sharon Horgan et al’s design – and Ricky Gervais’s After Life, too. Mandy, however, is different. For the first time in a long while, Morgan felt exposed.
