has managed to be a key performer in no fewer than five television shows that are now part of modern folklore: Play School, Camberwick Green, Trumpton, Chigley and Play Away. He was a fundamental, and fondly remembered, part of the early years of millions of children in the UK and around the world. He was, for most of the 1970s, the nation’s storyteller.
A printer by training, Cant was playing around at amateur dramatics when he was offered a professional acting job and quit work the next day. After some time as a jobbing actor, he auditioned for a new BBC children’s show called Play School and there began his stint in living rooms across the land.
Following an early period of heavily scripted shows, Cant got more involved in the production of Play School and ended up writing whole weeks of episodes. These were never live, as many people assume, but recorded a week ahead.
His appearances on Play School landed him some voiceover work for Gordon Murray and Freddie Phillips who were putting together an animated series for the BBC called Camberwick Green. This was such a success that he was asked back to do the same for Trumpton and Chigley. Recording his material in a converted broom cupboard, Cant didn’t get to see the animations at the time and, to this day, has not seen every episode from the series.
Play Away evolved from Play School and was aimed at older children and recorded in front of a live studio audience. During his time on that show, he worked alongside actors such as Jeremy Irons and Tony Robinson, both of whom went on to enjoy success with an adult audience, but Cant will always be remembered for his work in children’s television. Still acting today, he appears regularly on stage up and down the UK.
Personally I think it is about time that his significant achievements, and his place in the memories of millions, were recognised with an honour. Perhaps a knighthood is out of his reach, but an OBE or something like that wouldn’t be too much to ask, would it?
Frank Capra movies
The word ‘Capra-esque’ is often used to describe a movie, or anything, really, which has a heart-warming, life-affirming and slightly magical quality. It came about because of director Frank Capra’s tendency to produce films that ticked all those boxes, and many of his productions are considered all-time classics. His films include Mr. Deeds Goes to Town or It Happened One Night, which starred Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert and became the first film in history to win an Oscar for every major category.
Coming from a working-class background, Frank Capra was drawn to stories about the little man fighting against the odds, something epitomised by James Stewart’s performances in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington and It’s a Wonderful Life.
Capra himself was, by many accounts, not a particularly nice chap, but he was an excellent film director. He also knew how to pair up with talented people; many of his more successful films were penned by screenwriter Robert Riskin, a man whose vision is probably more aligned to the true meaning of Capra-esque.
Three Frank Capra movies appear on the American Film Institute’s list of the 100 Greatest American Movies of all Time. These are It’s a Wonderful Life (#11), Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (#29) and It Happened One Night (#35).
Cartoons
An artist draws an image on a sheet of paper. He then draws a slightly different image on another sheet. By quickly flicking between the two, he creates the illusion of movement. He has made a cartoon.
Take thousands of artists drawing millions of images over the past hundred years or so and you have a universe of animation that has brought joy, awe, wonder and amazement to everyone who has had the pleasure to witness them.
Cartoons unite us; they make us all smile; they are an experience we share with everyone else who has ever watched one. When my son laughs at Bugs and Daffy arguing over rabbit season/duck season, he is reliving the laughter I expressed when I was his age watching that very scene, which is precisely the same as my father before me.
Every now and then some morally outraged individual will complain about all the violence in animated cartoons. They will point to Jerry smashing Tom’s face in with an iron, or Wile E. Coyote getting crushed by an anvil, and suggest that it is corrupting the minds of minors.
I say that they clearly didn’t watch enough cartoons as a kid. If they did, they’d have a bloody sense of humour.
Children’s paintings
On one hand, the critical and artistic one, children’s paintings are basically crap. Of course they are. They are created by people with no artistic talent and with the most basic of materials. They tend to look nothing like their intended subject.
On the other hand, the emotional and creative one, they are little rectangles of pure imagination.
A blue strip of sky clings desperately to the top of the page. A monster with 13 legs and eyes hovering somewhere above its head explodes in a riot of colour. An incomprehensible mass of paint swirls together into impossible shapes. Go and see an infant school art display some time; they will be the greatest pictures you will ever see.
If you still aren’t convinced that children’s paintings are the most rewarding form of art we have, then ask yourself this. Why is it that all the great modern artists spend their adult lives trying to see the world as children again? If you want to paint as well as Picasso, you either have to be a genius…or five years old.
Chinese chips
Obviously it is a bit silly to order chips from a Chinese takeaway, but if you have ever done so, you will know that the Chinese have a secret magic recipe. Somehow their chips taste nicer than any others. I have no idea how they prepare them, and I have never thought to ask. Perhaps they cook them in a wok. Whatever it is they do, it elevates the chipped potato to a whole new level.
Church bells
I don’t care what religion you are, the ringing of church bells on a sunny spring morning is a joy to the ears.
Close encounters with wildlife
Most wild animals steer well clear of us human beings. A very wise move, too—we have a tendency to kill them for food, sport, or out of sheer boredom. So when an otherwise shy creature happens across your path and doesn’t instantly flee, it is a rare privilege.
Those brief seconds, silent and still, can seem timeless. As you make eye contact and, for a moment, you acknowledge each other’s presence, it is as if you are communing with nature on an almost spiritual level. It is enough to humble even the most cynical of humans.
Clouds
Floating above our heads every day are the stuff of dreams and poetry. The most amazing sights in nature are just an upwards glance away.
Don’t just take my word for it, here’s someone who knows far more about it than me.
AN INTERVIEW WITH GAVIN PRETOR-PINNEY, FOUNDER OF THE CLOUD APPRECIATION SOCIETY.
What inspired you to start the Cloud Appreciation Society?
A few years back, a friend asked me to give a talk about clouds for her literary festival. She knew how enthusiastic I was about them and, of course, I said yes. But in the weeks before the event, I worried that no one would come along, since most people complain about clouds. It occurred to me that they might be more likely to come if I gave the talk an interesting name. So I called it ‘The Inaugural Lecture of the Cloud Appreciation Society’, even though no such society existed. When the talk was packed out, and everyone came up afterwards to ask how they could join, I figured that it was about time I started a society for real.