Why intelligence of comic genius John Sessions should be celebrated - Anthony Clavane

There are many “Britishisms” I love. Like obsessing about the weather, for example, or forming a queue for everything. Making a cup of tea in response to a crisis – quite a useful characteristic at the moment – is another.
Tributes have been paid to John Sessions this week. photo: Ian West/PA WireTributes have been paid to John Sessions this week. photo: Ian West/PA Wire
Tributes have been paid to John Sessions this week. photo: Ian West/PA Wire

There is one, however, that I am not a fan of. It is summed up in the phrase “too clever by half”.

It was coined as far back as 1858, in George J Whyte-Melville’s book The Interpreter, and appeared in some of this week’s “accolades” to the comic genius John Sessions, who has died, aged 67, after suffering a heart attack.

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Call me old-fashioned, but I prefer my obituaries to accentuate the positive and eliminate the negative. Especially if they are about wonderfully talented people who brought a lot of joy into people’s lives.

John Sessions. Photo: Ian West/PA WireJohn Sessions. Photo: Ian West/PA Wire
John Sessions. Photo: Ian West/PA Wire

Sessions was one of those people.

I was blown away when I first saw him, in a one-man show called The Life of Napoleon, in the late 1980s. His subsequent career, as the obituaries faithfully recorded, had a number of ups and downs. But every time he appeared on the screen he was superb.

The last time I saw him was in the TV film We’re Doomed! The Making of Dad’s Army, where his poignant impersonation of Arthur Lowe stole the show.

Rather than focus on the great triumphs of John’s career – Whose Line Is It Anyway?, Spitting Image, My Night With Reg, Stella Street and so on – several obituarists chose to highlight his supposedly irritating habit of showing off his intelligence. Several quoted Timothy Spall’s observation that Sessions “could come across as a bit of a clever dick”.

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I can remember being shocked when Paul Merton – someone I normally admire – stepped forward during an episode of Whose Line Is It Anyway? and, in response to the question “worst people to get stuck in a lift with”, said: “Hello, I’m John Sessions.”

Clearly, this was a bit of an in-joke amongst some of his fellow entertainers. Being ostentatiously knowledgeable is not a good look in the envy-driven world of British comedy. Although he was responsible for several of the impersonations during Spitting Image’s golden years, the show still frequently sent him up as a self-regarding luvvie.

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Roger Mellie, Viz’s famous “man on the telly” once beat him up in a cartoon strip. And, in a strange interview, I can remember Clive Anderson half-joking: “For an actor, really, you’re too clever.”

I always enjoyed, and was often dazzled by, John’s cleverness. He was the king of improv.

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Whether it was the cultural differences between Britain’s Tony Hancock and America’s Phil Silvers, Milan Kundera’s version of Dallas or Keith Richards running a corner shop with Mick Jagger, his surreal flights of fancy will live forever in my head.

His talent for mimicry and improvisation knew no bounds.

Who can forget, during a Wogan show, his spontaneous, quick-witted switching from a Glaswegian drunk to J R Ewing and then finally Prince Charles, all the time being egged on by his fellow interviewees?

If this is being too smart for one’s own good, then let’s have more of it. Perhaps only Robin Williams could match him for stream-of-consciousness ad-libbery.

Across the pond, of course, Williams is – rightly – hailed as a comic genius. Some of the “tributes” to Sessions in the British press went for a somewhat different angle: that he was a victim of his own pretentiousness.

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His talent was described as “outrageous” (not in a good way) and his “failure” to become a serious actor was clearly comeuppance, it was implied, for an over-eagerness to impress intellectuals.

“While contemporaries went on to colossal success,” noted the Daily Mail, “Sessions…ended his career doing bit parts and voiceovers.”

It is true that the breathtakingly-talented brainbox, who wrote poetry as a child and could recite Finnegans Wake verbatim, was constantly plagued by self-doubt. 
He had battles with depression and suffered stage fright for long periods.

But, as his friend and fellow impersonator Ronni Ancona put it: “He was that rare commodity, a towering intellect who was able to translate his vast intelligence into highly-accessible, unadulterated comedy.”

And for that he should be celebrated not chastised.

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