The Australian, 15th January, 2002

Diplomacy be damned: Sir Humphrey has the last laugh Nigel Hawthorne's memoirs pull no punches from the grave, Richard Brooks writes.

The actor who was the soul of discretion while alive is to reveal all from beyond the grave. Nigel Hawthorne, best known for starring as Sir Humphrey, the ultra-diplomatic civil servant in television's 'Yes, Minister' and its successor, 'Yes, Prime Minister', completed his memoirs two days before he died on Boxing Day.

His publishers are describing the book as "pulling no punches". In the book, to be called 'Straight Face', Hawthorne attacks the Royal Shakespeare Company; reveals he was so nervous of playing Sir Humphrey in 'Yes, Minister' that he took beta-blockers; and decries the hurtful way the media handled his homosexuality.

Hawthorne, who also starred in the film 'The Madness of King George', spent the last 22 years of his life with Trevor Bentham in what was a marriage in all but name. "I'm a bit fearful of reading what's in it as I know it will be upsetting for me," says Bentham.

The contents will come as a surprise to others as well: Hawthorne was known in show business not only as a great actor but also for his nice personality.

His attack on the RSC stems from the treatment he received when he landed the stage role he had long coveted. His King Lear was to be the culmination of a glittering career, and he announced it would be his last appearance on the stage. But the experience left a sour taste. The production began well in Japan, where it had been funded. The reviews were all good and Hawthorne won standing ovations every night. He received star treatment, flying first class and staying in the best hotels. When the production transferred to Britain, Hawthorne's reputation ensured the RSC run, at the Barbican and Stratford, was a sell-out. The company announced it was delighted to have him as a guest star.

The reality, the autobiography reveals, was less effusive. He was galled by the Barbican opening reviews; one critic likened his Lear to Worzel Gummidge. But what really irritated him was that the RSC made no effort to ease the strain on a 70-year-old of playing such a demanding role every night. Hawthorne was required to make his own way to the theatre each night from his home in Hertfordshire. In London he took the Tube to the Barbican; in Stratford the RSC charged him rent for a cottage it owned.

In the book, to be published in April by Hodder & Stoughton, Hawthorne also recounts how he suffered another reverse at a high point of his career. Just as he had been nominated for an Oscar for his role in 'The Madness of King George', he was outed as a homosexual, prompting tabloid headlines such as "Yes, Minister, I'm gay".

Born in Britain in 1929 but brought up in South Africa, Hawthorne realised he was homosexual in his early teens. It was not easy to accept, since his father, he writes, had once told him that "homosexuals should be shipped to a desert island and shot".

Hawthorne left South Africa in 1949, aged 20, and came to Britain to seek work as an actor. He returned to South Africa in 1957 to be greeted by a father who said he was not surprised at his son's failure. So the young actor went back again to Britain in 1964, where he landed mainly smallish parts.

Though he lived with another man during much of this time, it was not a physical relationship. He started living with Bentham in 1979, just before he began 'Yes, Minister'. It was a new dawn: Hawthorne says his life did not really begin either personally or professionally until he was 50.

His main concern about revealing his homosexuality was that it might lead some directors not to cast him as a heterosexual.

But when publicising 'The Madness of King George' in the US, he gave an interview to a gay magazine in which he mentioned his sexuality in passing. His remarks were seized upon and reported back in Britain. The stories, he writes, were "trashy" and "hurtful" and, he felt, held him up to ridicule. They sent him into a deep depression.

But, in the manner of Sir Humphrey, he bore the hurt with grace and diplomacy ... until he could exact some retribution in his memoirs.