Biggest Fans

Here's the Coogan topic from my old forum. It has loads of content from around 2008-2014. I've just spent some hours tidying it up after years of neglect. There are still some rough edges, but BIGGEST FANS will be ok with that I'm sure.

https://forum.couchtripper.com/viewtopic.php?t=5174

Though Ricky Gervais and Sacha Baron Cohen were hot on Steve Coogan's heels during those early years of the new century, top dog status amongst his peers and critics remained largely assured. With three triumphant television series featuring Middle England alter ego Alan Partridge in the bag, this dedicated student of comedy history was hankering for the next game-changing move.

The 1970s northern lad who had religiously recorded Monty Python television repeats knew all too well his heroes never stood still. And to further raise the stakes, the biggest hero of all was suddenly looming large.

"Who better than Coogan?" was a familiar refrain amongst London comedy cliques when it emerged in 2003 that a screen adaptation of Roger Lewis's still definitive biography, The Life and Death of Peter Sellers, was in the works.

Rarely cursed by self-doubt, Coogan certainly concurred, whilst the film's executives came close — only blinking at the eleventh hour and playing it safe with the more internationally known Australian, Geoffrey Rush. "I really wanted that part badly," Coogan flatly announced shortly afterwards. "Then Geoffrey Rush came along and said, 'I want to do it,' and he's got an Academy Award and I haven't, and I was out of the picture. I don't mind admitting I was pissed off about that."

The film that followed offered some consolation; a pedestrian story on screen never coming close to the ghoul of Sellers so compellingly drawn out on Lewis's pages. Whilst chameleon Sellers' oft-repeated assertion that he possessed "no interesting personality" of his own sounded increasingly affected as years passed, Rush was given little chance to dispel the notion. Flimsy awards ceremony success at the time (Golden Globe for best TV film actor, no less) should not persuade us otherwise.

In taking on a West End production of Dr. Strangelove, Coogan set a high bar for himself

Yet Coogan could not let it rest: during his other television masterpiece, The Trip, he was still banging on about being "down to the last two" for Sellers seven years on. Co-star and professional sparring partner Rob Brydon reassured him: "As I've told you many times before, you'd have been better than Geoffrey Rush." Though fashionably playing an "exaggerated" version of himself in the series, the difference between the two Coogans at that moment was paper-thin.

Two decades on from being denied the chance to inhabit the bones of his idol, Coogan's status as the nation's comedy colossus seemed assured. Approaching 60, he had lived four years longer than Sellers (who died after a heart attack in 1980). Rather than portray the man, why not reinterpret some of his best characters?

In taking on the starring roles in a West End production of Stanley Kubrick's 1964 satirical magnum opus Dr. Strangelove, Coogan set a high bar for himself, not least logistically since it required him in four separate parts on stage (even Sellers only played three). But such audacity has not quite paid off. Sellers is having the last laugh.

Whilst critical reaction has been broadly supportive of Coogan's portrayals, the production as a whole, directed and co-written by Sean Foley along with Coogan's old collaborator Armando Iannucci, is rightly deemed a misfire — occupying an unwanted no man's land of so-so imitation of the original to hackneyed nods to the present.

As for Coogan himself? The man's long been incapable of delivering anything approaching below par, but the nagging question remains: why? It could be argued he's hindered by a play that never really hits the mark, but Coogan's performance can only be regarded as serviceable by his own impeccable standards.

Whilst portrayals of Group Captain Mandrake and President Muffley (Sellers' best roles in the film) tick along perfectly pleasingly, it's testament to Coogan's stagecraft that his Dr Strangelove counts as the standout achievement. Funny-voiced German Nazis aren't all the rage they once were, but he somehow succeeds in giving his camp psychopath a fresh new lease of life.

But again, why? Why, at the height of powers, would Coogan wish to give such blood, sweat and tears to this essentially derivative venture — one in which he was always likely to come off second best? In what also happens to be the centenary year of the late Goon's birth, modern-day Coogan, for all the plaudits enjoyed in the present, unwisely insists on an attempted land grab from Sellers' past.

Reflecting on his star's improvised/masterfully edited performance as Strangelove during the film's final moments — the previously wheelchair-bound scientist screeching, "Mein Führer! I can walk!" — Kubrick, amongst that small club of directors capable of controlling the Sellers wildfire, romantically maintained his actor had touched a "state of comic ecstasy".

Little chance of that 60 years on. Coogan's performance proves more controlled, more knowing throughout, as suits the age. Audiences are rarely left in doubt that, as with Alan Partridge, he and the writers are two steps ahead. In this respect he and Sellers have always been very different beasts; it's amongst the reasons why the play is such an awkward fit.

Such generational comparisons are also inevitably problematic. Much of Sellers' résumé struggles in the current age: whether it be Clouseau's endless pratfalls and English-speaking "French", or those impenetrable Goons and Indian/Chinaman accents, Father Time isn't merciful. Though some of the landmark performances (Fred Kite, Strangelove, some Clouseau, Chauncey Gardiner) continue to cock a snook at the unforgiving present, credible judgement of long-dead Sellers should not be overly hindered by 2025's passing tastes. Partridge will hardly be packing the same punch 60 years from now. Yet when it comes to Coogan versus Sellers, it's Coogan picking the fight.

There are personal and professional parallels impossible to ignore. After carving out early careers as light entertainment impressionists, both soon enough fixed upon bigger prizes. Young Sellers may have courteously talked of Alec Guinness as an "idol", but never without considering himself the latter's rightful comic successor. Coogan's conviction regarding his own seat at the top table was similarly unwavering from the beginning.

The significance of national minority origins cannot be downplayed, however unalike. The third child of six in a bustling Irish Catholic family in Middleton, Greater Manchester, the boy Stephen learnt to navigate the pecking order early on; proud Irish/Mancunian roots providing ample emotional rocket fuel for the journey ahead. Only child Sellers was, by contrast, monstrously spoilt by Jewish mother Peg. Whilst Coogan is armed with the certainty of regional identity, the much-travelled Sellers, often on the road with theatrical parents, couldn't even make up his mind where he was born. Having officially arrived in the Hampshire seaside resort Southsea, he could alternatively be heard insisting his birthplace was father Bill's Yorkshire. Never shy to make it up as he went along, this Portuguese Jewish/Yorkshireman/Londoner could be forgiven for the identity crisis. His rootlessness also proved the godsend for those many masks that followed.

For most, Sellers will always primarily be Clouseau as much as Coogan is always primarily Partridge. Both naturally deemed their most commercially successful creations albatrosses at various stages: Coogan only more comfortable returning to Alan once assured a degree of critical success was accomplished elsewhere on film, not least 2013's Philomena alongside Judi Dench.

Having rejected offers to reprise Clouseau for a third time in 1968, later career doldrums suffered by Sellers and Pink Panther director Blake Edwards eventually led to the Inspector's return seven years later, swiftly followed by two further sequels.

More importantly for Sellers, commercial clout courtesy of Clouseau ensured fulfilment of a near decade-long obsession with bringing Jerzy Kosiński's 1971 novel Being There to the screen. His portrayal of man-child gardener Chance, who improbably finds himself propelled to accidental status of political sage in Washington DC, remains moving and prescient — only more so when knowing Sellers is himself on borrowed time. Should we sensibly ignore the relentlessly crap The Fiendish Plot of Dr. Fu Manchu that followed just before his demise, Being There proves the fitting swan song.

And this is the issue when attempting to critically assess these two comic geniuses from a basis of artistic parity: bluntly speaking, Sellers made it in Hollywood — Coogan, well, just hasn't. The transition proved more straightforward for Sellers from the start: the first great cinematic role as union man Fred Kite in I'm All Right Jack overlapping with his final days as a radio Goon.

Hollywood worship soon enough ensued: his reign across the pond only kiboshed in 1964 by a series of near-fatal heart attacks brought about by constant pill-popping and bonking Britt Ekland. After all those incoherent rants about American "berks" thwarting his talent in the chaotic years that followed, a once again bankable Sellers was welcomed back to the fold a decade on.

Coogan's Tinseltown forays have been solid without ever threatening the defining career upgrade many presumed inevitable

Having struck at the nerve endings of baby boomer/middle-class English life with unrivalled brilliance for over 30 years, Coogan's Partridge occupies territory in the national psyche perhaps not seen since Tony Hancock's frayed post-war delusions earned similar reverence and affection all those decades before. Yet, apart from when enjoying the appreciative company of east-coast, west-coast comedy in-crowds, Alan's American vacation would prove mainly dispiriting. Away from Partridge, Coogan's Tinseltown forays have down the years been solid enough without ever producing the defining career upgrade many presumed would come his way.

Wrong place, wrong time? Whilst Sellers thrived in an era when leading British comic actors could look forward to clinking glasses in producers' offices in Beverly Hills, the Golden State these days offers slimmer pickings. Though Hugh Grant cashed in on being pretty before later cannily opting to be typecast as middle-aged villains, Hollywood doesn't do funny Englishmen like it used to. Dudley Moore would have little chance in 2025.

When attempting to judge a performer of his long-standing calibre, it would be folly to dismiss the possibility of Coogan still eventually earning that desired place in the Hollywood sun. The form book however indicates this to be one part of the remarkable story where he's likely to fall short.

As recent events prove, Hollywood Sellers remains the cause of a rare chink in the Coogan armour. For Coogan, the phantom of Sellers forever lingers; the one who, for a time, had it all. The one that got away.

Actor Steve Coogan has narrowly avoided a driving ban for speeding at almost 100mph after he told a court it could impact on the new series of hit TV show The Trip. The 59-year-old star of Alan Partridge was behind the wheel of a Range Rover which was caught at 97mph on the M6 on July 29 last year. Coogan already had six penalty points on his licence and wrote to a court to plead for a punishment which did not end in a ban, highlighting that he is expected to drive on the upcoming TV show.

"I have a series of important film commitments scheduled for 2025, many of which involve driving as a central component of the work", he set out, in a letter to Birmingham magistrates court. "I am due to appear in a well-established TV series called The Trip (with Rob Brydon) which as the title suggests requires me to drive. "This starts filming towards the end of June 2025 and if I were unable to drive, the production would likely be unable to proceed."

Coogan argued for the magistrate to impose five penalty points instead of six, leaving him just below the level where an automatic six-month disqualification is considered. "These projects would be severely impacted, not only affecting my own livelihood but also the many individuals dependent on these productions for work", he continued. "These include camera, sound, and lighting technicians, riggers, and others on modest wages who would face cancellations and financial hardship, as rescheduling such projects is often highly complicated."

Coogan said the past penalty points on his licence are due to expire in August 2025, he said he has stuck to the speed limits since the incident, and he expressed frustration that it has taken almost six months for the prosecution to be brought. "The delay...has significantly affected not only my ability to plan for the coming year but also discussions with colleagues and collaborators regarding potential upcoming projects." The offence happened just before midnight on the northbound side of the M6 just before Junction 12 for Telford. Coogan entered a guilty plea and was handed five penalty points, leaving him one point short of facing a ban. He was ordered to pay a £2,500 fine, plus £90 costs and a £1,000 victim surcharge.

It is not the first time Coogan has deployed his TV career in court when facing a driving ban. In 2019, the actor told magistrates in Crawley that a lengthy disqualification would force the cancellation of a new Alan Partridge series he was created for the BBC. "I'm producing a travelogue follow-on TV series where I'm basically driving around Britain," he told the court. "The whole nature of the series is that it is a travelogue and it's an artistic thing that he drives and that defines his character. You couldn't put him on a train because that not who he is – it's part of his character that he drives."

The comedian said camera shots of him driving could not be faked, and pleaded that up to 20 members of the production crew were relying financial on the show being made. The court ultimately decided to ban Coogan from driving for two months, instead of the usual six, which meant the TV show could be made as planned.

He and Rob Brydon have already made four series of The Trip, playing exaggerated versions of themselves as they travel by car together to review restaurants. The show's series, directed by Michael Winterbottom, have been set in the UK, Italy, Spain, and Greece. Coogan and Brydon have both previously expressed a desire to film a fifth series, with Ireland, Wales, and the US suggested as locations. But in February last year Winterbottom publicly ruled out a possibility of another series. However, Coogan's court case reveals a change of heart, with plans already well underway.

Coogan was banned from driving for 28 days and fined £670 in 2016 after he was caught driving at almost twice the speed limit on a 30mph road in Brighton. Coogan has previously expressed his fondness for driving, and in his letter to the court for his latest offence he says he drives around 14,000 miles a year for his work on TV shows, films, and podcasts.

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What could possibly go wrong while speeding in a large lump of expensive metal?

Bad. And wrong.

Very disappointing from Our Steve.

Track list:
1 Siouxsie and the Banshees – Hong Kong Garden

2 Louis Armstrong – We Have All the Time in the World

3 The Mock Turtles – Wickerman

4 Talking Heads – (Nothing But) Flowers

5 Happy Mondays – Hallelujah

6 Edward Elgar – Variations on an Original Theme, Op. 36: Variation IX "Nimrod"

7 Joni Mitchell – California

8 The Smiths – Panic

Steve Coogan had to pull out of Dr Strangelove at the Bord Gáis Energy Theatre last night with laryngitis. It is not known yet if he will be back for Friday night's performance. Coogan plays four parts in the production which is based on the original 1964 Stanley Kubrick classic film of the same name. Ticket holders received a text message on Thursday evening to inform them that the actor "is recovering from laryngitis and will not perform 13 Feb 2025 19.30 @BGET".

The show runs until February 22nd. Actor Ben Deery, who is known for And Then There Were None, A Street Cat Named Bob and Baldur's Gate III, replaced Coogan on stage for last night's show.

UPDATE: To spare Steve's voice and (half) continue the performance, he shared his four roles with understudy Ben Deery. Great idea.

On the release of Peter Cattaneo's "The Penguin Lessons," let me take a moment to extol the virtues of a comedian and actor, Steve Coogan. Mr. Coogan's career continues full bore, and he was nominated for an Oscar as a screenwriter on Stephen Frears's "Philomena" (2013), but to this critic's lights he was, if not forever snubbed by the Academy, then conspicuously overlooked.

How on earth did its members miss Mr. Coogan's turn as Stan Laurel in John S. Baird's "Stan and Ollie" (2018)? The movie was, in many regards, a boilerplate biopic, but Mr. Coogan did more than exact an impersonation of a beloved comedian. He embodied Laurel with an uncanny, almost scarifying verisimilitude. Retrospect will be kinder to Mr. Coogan than were the panjandrums of Hollywood. It was a great performance.

Mr. Coogan is splendid and sometimes moving in "The Penguin Lessons," though his performance isn't as ambitious. Playing a middle-aged Englishman for whom cynicism is a default mode, the actor coasts on the readymade strength of tart comedic chops. We recognize Mr. Coogan the performer even as he plays a fictional character, in this case Tom Michel, a bedragged teacher of English at a ritzy Buenos Aires boarding school.

Mr. Coogan's character is a cinematic version of a real-life Tom Michel, the author of a 2016 memoir, "The Penguin Lessons: What I Learned From A Remarkable Bird." The book detailed the time Mr. Michel spent in a country beset by political turmoil — the early 1970s and the so-called Dirty War. A military coup and its subsequent abuses serve as a backdrop for a feel-good dramedy about a wise-cracking Briton who rediscovers his moral center and, with that, an enthusiasm for life. It is an ill-fitting congruence.

"The Penguin Lessons" is unapologetic hokum crafted with workmanlike diligence. Mr. Cattaneo is likely best known for directing "The Full Monty" (1997), and there's a similar strain of emotional button-pushing at the core of "The Penguin Lessons." After the Argentinian government has been overturned by the military, our hero goes to Uruguay in the hopes of bedding a comely señorita or two. Instead, he ends up saving a penguin from the debris left behind from an oil spill. Through a series of we-saw-it-coming plot developments, Michel regains his humanity thanks to a cute little bird.

And, damn it, penguins are cute: Even the most hard-hearted among us will cede our standards when the so-called Juan Salvador waddles across the screen. Mr. Cattaneo and editors Robin Peters and Tariq Anwar shamelessly tweak the tricks-of-their-trade in order to anthropomorphize a penguin.

Walt Disney couldn't have done it better, but Uncle Walt would've known that there are better backdrops for a light-hearted morality tale than a country turned asunder by duplicity, kidnapping, torture, and murder. As it is, "The Penguin Lessons" is either a children's movie employing inappropriate means or an adult movie of rank sentimentality.

This is one of those sweet stories aimed at an older audience where its curmudgeonly lead character has to face up to an unresolved trauma and troubling current affairs. It's all going to make him a better person, which is underlined further by his kindness to an unorthodox pet.

In this case, it's a penguin. It's hard to believe this is based on a true story, or even that anyone thought this would make a truly satisfying movie, but here it is — existing. Holding it entirely on his shoulders is Steve Coogan, delivering yet another charming misanthrope/aging lothario to add to his collection.

He's Tom Michell, an English teacher arriving in troubled Argentina in the mid-1970s. The country's on the verge of a brutal military coup and he's just arrived to teach English to local toffee-nosed brats, under the aegis of Jonathan Pryce's schoolmaster.

Michell's not particularly interested in his job anyway, and instead takes a few days off out of the country, avoiding the military violence and going to a nightclub in Uruguay with a Finnish colleague (Björn Gustafsson). He comes back to Argentina with the flightless waterfowl in tow, having rescued it from an oil slick on the beach.

What up to that point had felt like a listless historical dramedy suddenly becomes an unorthodox funny-animal movie — and that's easily the best part. The bird is inexpressive but cute. It has a gift for seducing everyone it comes into contact with, not something you could say about Michell.

What doesn't work is any attempt to plumb Michell's tragic history or the country's socio-political stakes. Not much about this film convinces as the mid-1970s, nor does it succeed in delivering the kind of dread anyone would feel living under a military junta. Michell becomes friendly with his maid and her daughter (Vivian El Jaber and Alfonsina Carrocio), but their cross-cultural emotional connection doesn't convince, either.

The Penguin Lessons has the bad luck of coming out within recent memory of I'm Still Here, with which it shares an era and a setting — a South American country under right wing oppression in the '70s. The earlier film simply does everything so much better than this one. Not to mention, the last thing we need is another story of a white dude dealing with his bullshit while local activists are "disappeared." This isn't The Year of Living Dangerously or Salvador, not even close to as good, nor is it as nuanced as the recent Red Island and its examination of the colonial hangover.

In conclusion, the stuff with the bird is charming, and Coogan can play this kind of character in his sleep — if you need to see one movie this year about a man and his friendship with a penguin, this should be it. Everything else is dire.

Based on Michell's actual experiences while teaching English at an Argentinian boarding school in the 1970s, the picture begins by establishing him as a naïve and troubled man. Michell (played deliciously by Steve Coogan) enters Argentina apparently unaware of the nation's significant political turmoil. He is introduced to his job by the sound of a distant explosion and an armed guard mistaking him for a political dissident. Once he extracts himself from the dicey situation, Michell is informed by the school headmaster (Jonathan Pryce) that the nation is on the verge of a military coup.

Michell is concerned, but the headmaster assures him that the school steers clear of politics because its students come from some of the nation's most affluent families. The rocky beginning would have derailed some, but Michell is packing a good deal of self-loathing, so he plans to ride out the job, doing as little as possible with a difficult group of students. Alas, a weekend trip to Uruguay changes everything.

Hoping to impress a local woman, he rescues a penguin from an oil slick. Michell doesn't get the girl, but the freshly cleaned penguin refuses to leave his side when they return to the beach, so he reluctantly brings the bird to his school, despite the fact that teachers are not allowed pets.

At first, Michell keeps the penguin secret, but it isn't long before others in the community discover its presence. These include a friend and fellow teacher (Björn Gustafsson), the school caretaker (Vivian El Jaber), and her daughter Sofia (Alfonsina Carrocio). They all love the penguin, and – grudgingly – Michell finds himself doing the same, naming it Juan Salvador.

As the characters and animal bond, director Peter Cattaneo skilfully weaves the political turmoil of Argentina into the plot, which boils over when a key figure is unfairly arrested by the militarized government. The film then dances between politics, Michell's efforts in the classroom, and his increasingly close relationship with Juan Salvador. As one might expect given the film's title, the penguin's loyalty and love slowly transforms Michell's outlook on life.

Coogan is particularly good playing grumpy-but-lovable oafs, and he is wonderful throughout. The strong supporting cast doesn't get nearly as much time as Coogan, and it's disappointing to see Pryce so painfully underutilized. But The Penguin Lessons isn't the headmaster's story, so the artistic choice makes sense.

This is a charming film that feels at home next to The Full Monty, which remains Cattaneo's best-known work. I don't expect ThePenguin Lessons to supplant that effort, but its sweet, simple nature should make it a favorite for those who appreciate understated dramedies that pack an uplifting message.

Considering how straightforward the picture is, the 110-minute run is excessive, and there are sequences that Cattaneo could have cut in favor of better establishing the film's background characters. Still, the strengths outweigh the flaws, and The Penguin Lessons reminds us that kindness and love can be found even in dark places, a message that's always worth embracing.

Forrest Hartman is Highbrow Magazine's chief film critic.

via Highbrow Magazine (https://www.highbrowmagazine.com/25285-steve-coogan-shines-uplifting-dramedy-penguin-lessons)

The upcoming film, set in 1976 Argentina and based on a true story, stars Steve as Tom Michell – a disillusioned English teacher who rescues an oil-covered Magellanic penguin.

And amidst the country's political upheaval, the penguin sparks a transformative journey for Tom...

Ultimately, The Penguin Lessons is like Dead Poets Society meets Mr Popper's Penguins meets Rojo.

Directed by Peter Cattaneo and based on Tom Michell's 2015 memoir of the same name, The Penguin Lessons hits Australian cinemas on April 17, 2025.

But ahead of its release, The Weekly sat down with Steve to chat about all things penguins, Judi Dench and Alan Partridge.

Read our full interview with Steve Coogan, star of The Penguin Lessons, below.

The Weekly: The memoir subtly touches on Argentina's political turmoil in the 1970s. How did you and Peter Cattaneo go about balancing this historical backdrop with the lighter, more personal elements of Tom's story in the film?
Steve:  Well, there are lighter touches to this film, but it is dealing with this difficult subject matter. And in actual fact, that was the challenge: to get the tone right.

You know, penguins are very cute and cuddly and make you laugh because they walk in a funny way... So, obviously that makes everything a lot of fun. But there is a serious backdrop to the story.

And so, the challenge for us was when to make things humorous and when to let them breathe, and let people think about things and let them contemplate the sort of poignancy and sadness of the situation in Argentina at that time.

But in some ways, the penguin is what makes it easy to talk about those things. It's sort of a paradox.

The penguin is cute and cuddly. Fascism is quite spiky. But the two together I think, help each other... The penguin is sort of a lightning rod for all these different issues.

Of course, we had to make sure we weren't trivialising this difficult period by having a penguin story in it.

But the fact of the matter is the real Tom Michell did rescue a penguin from an oil slick in 1976, just at the time of the military coup in Argentina – that led to lots of human rights violations, lots of murders, people disappearing, [people being] tortured, and [an] incredibly repressive, wicked regime in Argentina.

We felt that we needed to incorporate that story more into the film. And tell people a little bit about it; this is not just a cuddly penguin film.

There are cuddly penguin elements to it. But it's really about a real world situation with real people who are affected by real events.

It is also about a man who is selfish and narcissistic, [and] disengaged with the world. He doesn't like penguins, doesn't like children, and he is a teacher!

He's a cynic, and it is quite easy to be cynical about the world; certainly at the moment, with what's going on.

We wanted to [tell the story] of someone who rediscovers engaging with the world and that trying to find the good in people is a worthwhile endeavour.

Did you read the memoir in preparation for the role? If so, were there any key scenes that you felt were particularly important to preserve in the film?
I did read the book after [screenwriter] Jeff Pope told me about it.

He'd written the screenplay – I've worked a lot with Jeff in the past; we wrote several films together. This though, he wrote on his own – and he showed it to me and asked me if I might be interested in playing Tom Michell. So, I familiarised myself with [the memoir].

We kept a lot of Tom's story in it. Of him rescuing the penguin and rehabilitating it, and not being quite sure what to do about it and not quite sure where to take it.

Essentially, he accidentally adopted the penguin, which is what we portrayed in the film.

And in terms of the story of the penguin at the school, it was fairly faithful to Tom's story.

But the political situation in Argentina at that time, we sort of brought that to the fore, made that part fold, made that part of the drama. Because it was such a significant event, or series of events in Argentina's history that it felt wrong to ignore it and not make it part of the story.

Also, in reality, Tom Michell is a very decent bloke and he was [a decent bloke] when he rescued the penguin; right through that whole period, he didn't change really.

He was affected by his time with the penguin, and it opened his eyes to better ways to teach and relate to people; relate to the pupils. But he didn't have any kind of an epiphany, in the way the film [version of] Tom Michell does.

In the film, we made Tom far less sympathetic than the real Tom Michell; we made him a cynic. Someone who was disillusioned and disengaged. Because we wanted him to go on a journey where the penguin opens his eyes and he loses that cynicism.

We also invented a backstory about his past that describes and mitigates his behaviour, and [explains] why he is so disengaged from the world.

So, yeah, there's a lot of artistic license in it. There's no doubt about that.

But Jeff does that; when you turn something into a story, something that's based on reality, it becomes a hybrid, where you introduce fiction to make the story more dynamic and more interesting. It's not a documentary.

Did you meet the real Tom Michell at all while preparing to play him?
 No, I didn't meet the real Tom Michell.

He came along when we were shooting it, and we met and talked, um, but it wasn't – I've played about 12 real people in my career on screen and on television.

And, if someone who is public and the audience have a very fixed idea of who that person is in their head, then, of course, I need to faithfully adhere to that as much as possible; I need to sort of acknowledge those people who do know the person I'm portraying.

But with Tom Michell, there is no public perception on who Tom is; apart from his book, he's not a well-known figure. So, we didn't feel like we were encumbered by some towering presence that was fixed in an audience's mind, so, we made him like me.

So, did I meet him beforehand? Uh, no. Simple answer.

What was it like acting alongside a penguin? Were there any unexpected challenges or memorable moments during filming?
 Well, in actual fact, the whole experience of working with penguins was very different from how I imagined it would be.

There's an old adage in show business; WC Fields said, 'Don't work with children or animals.'

But I worked with both of them, as did Peter, and Jonathan Pryce, and everyone else in the film.

So, I anticipated that it might be a little chaotic, and would require application and concentration and all those things.

But the reverse was true because an inadvertent consequence of animal welfare is that, when you're on set, you have to be very quiet and not make loud noises that will cause distress to the penguin.

Everything has to be calm and no antagonism or arguments or things that are notice of negativity, if you like. It meant that people were quiet, and therefore, the atmosphere on set became very serene and calm.

The penguin wouldn't always do what you wanted, but you just had to have patience.

So yeah, it was far more zen than I'd expected it to be.

And funny moments, well, you know, penguins go to the toilet a lot. And so, someone has to follow around the penguin, just basically cleaning up his shit. But you just get used to it.

And people think penguins smell, they don't actually smell at all! They're quite interesting to watch and be alongside.

Every morning I'd go up to them, with my coffee, and talk to them so they could hear my voice. I picked them up, petted them and made them familiar with me, so that they feel comfortable around me and I feel comfortable around them.

So, the entire process was quite enjoyable for me. I'm not squeamish but the penguin only went to the toilet on me once in two months. Which I think is testament to how much respect the penguin had for me as a professional.

While known for your comedic work, you've taken on more dramatic roles in recent years. What motivated this genre swap, and how do you shift between comedic and dramatic roles?

 It was deliberate. I didn't want to just do comedy. I trained as an actor years ago, 35 or more, crikey, uh, nearly 40 years ago; I went to drama school and I got sort of sidetracked into comedy because that's where the work was.

So, I started doing stand up comedy and thought, 'Well, one day I'll try and try and get back to doing what I originally wanted to do.'

And I've just been sort of spending the last 30+ years, slowly weaving my way, circuitously back to being able to just play characters and disappear into roles.

I became a writer as well. I mean, the first dramatic role I did was a role opposite Judi Dench, in a film called Philomena, that I wrote with Jeff Pope. And I didn't particularly want to be a writer, but I thought, 'Well, no one's gonna give me a dramatic role. I'll have to write one for myself and cast myself.'

And, you know, fortunately for me, Judi Dench liked the script and me enough to act opposite me.

So, I did shift things then, and since then I have played more and more dramatic roles and I love it. I love doing comedy; I like the kind of symbiotic relationship between doing drama and comedy.

Sometimes there's an overlap; that's always interesting when you can find really humane, truthful comedy in real situations. And there's a complementary nature of tragedy and comedy that coexist in certain dramas, which I love; it's a real sweet spot.

But there's also things that are very straight down the line and things that are very overtly comical that I do.

I like all of it.

I've just finished a comedy TV series for the BBC – I love to still do that. It makes me laugh. It's enjoyable, it's like a bit of light relief for me when I've been doing things that are more heavy.

For instance, I played the sexual predator Jimmy Savile for the BBC. And that was a very heavy drama.

There was no light relief in that at all. It was pretty difficult to make. It was rewarding professionally, but very difficult.

And, of course, after I'd done that, it was good to go back to comedy because it felt like I could breathe out again after doing such a demanding, dark role. Um, so I'll never not do comedy but I like to move around.

I like the fact that I'm not pigeonholed and that I have some sort of flexibility. I don't want to get bored, so I like to do different things. I'd hate to be stuck in a TV series, doing the same thing over and over.

In a slight pivot, can you tell us anything about How Are You? It's Alan Partridge?
Yes, it's going to be a new series on the BBC this year.

I can't get into too much detail about it because otherwise people won't want to talk about it when it comes out.

Um, but I'm really excited about it. I think it's funny. It's up there with the best stuff we've done. It takes us a long time to make these things. We've spent a long time editing, cutting it together, making sure it's as good as it can be.

And I'm really excited for people to see it... It's really enjoyable; Alan is out and about meeting lots of different people around the country, and he's sort of the barometer of what's going on in Britain at the moment.

Yeah, it's Alan not in the studio [but] out amongst the people.

And finally, the film is obviously titled The Penguin Lessons — but what do you think are the key lessons the film conveys?
 Well, you know, any film has to have a specific lesson. I do hope that people draw something from [The Penguin Lessons].

The idea that engaging in politics, or engaging in the wider world, I should say, and caring about what happens to other people is important. And that cynicism only gets you so far. It's not the answer to everything.

What I like about Tom Michell's journey in this story is that he does re-engage with the world, and he does see some optimism.

I think the only hope really for the future of humankind is for people to try and be kind, or constructive; be kind and useful to the people around them. Human beings are social animals. We are interdependent; we're not lone wolves.

And so, I think Tom Michell is sort of a lone wolf in the beginning; just out for himself. [But] by the end he realises he needs people and some people might need him.

However you read that, I hope people leave the cinema slightly less cynical. It's a lesson in positivity.

The Penguin Lessons will be released in Australian cinemas on April 17, 2025.

Author: Bec Milligan via Women's Weekly (https://www.womensweekly.com.au/news/steve-coogan-the-penguin-lessons/)