(THEME MUSIC PLAYING)
The French were randy, the Germans were kinky
and the English were stupid.
Sometimes an episode consisted of just going, "Hello."
- Hello. - Hello.
It was like a wonderful piece of farce, you know?
Clever stuff.
Good moaning.
How lucky can you get, doing a job you like?
Doing it and getting a few bob for it?
It went on for longer than the war.
- Heil Hitler! - Heil Hitler!
'tler!
NARRATOR: In the 1980s, "'Allo 'Allo!" became
one of the most successful sitcoms in history.
16 million viewers followed
the farcical story of a cafe owner's exploits
in occupied France.
It sold to more countries than either "Monty Python" or "Fawlty Towers."
How's that for not mentioning the war?
It was the crowning achievement of the writing team
of Jeremy Lloyd and David Croft,
whose careers embraced the whole history of show biz.
The story of "'Allo 'Allo!" starts way before the war.
David Croft's parents were music hall stars,
and when movies came along
he made his big screen acting debut in 1929
alongside his mother Annie.
I was only about six or seven.
I remember the director sort of shouting at me through a megaphone,
it was that long ago.
NARRATOR: But after making the flour commercial,
David realized his time would be better spent behind the camera.
CROFT: As a writer, you get invited to lunch,
and I preferred that, of course.
But it was just a matter of I wasn't a good enough actor
to succeed in the long term, you know.
So the writing and the directing came up first.
NARRATOR: The future BBC uber-producer's career
actually began at Tyne Tees TV
working on the enormously popular "One O'clock Show,"
which brought old-fashioned variety to daytime television.
And they were long shows.
They would go on 40, 45, 50 minutes.
And they had lots of super production numbers
and very good singers and sketches and comedy sketches.
That commissioner, you don't want to take any notice of him.
- He's balmy. - Go on.
Well, depending what film they're showing here,
- it seems to affect him. - Huh?
Last week they had a cowboy film.
You should have seen him. He came along the queue like this...
(AMERICAN ACCENT) "Well there, partners.
We just got room for one in the old corral.
You really learnt your business properly there.
NARRATOR: While David Croft was learning his television trade,
Jeremy Lloyd's journey into TV was more unorthodox.
He worked as a metal-sorter and plumber's mate
before his career sparked to life
when he landed a prized position in a light bulb factory.
This was a job much sought-after
because the window was the only one
that looked into the Palmolive factory
where the girls' changing room was.
Well, not that I got it for that, of course.
NARRATOR: Perhaps it was the view of the Palmolive factory
that inspired Jeremy to write his first script.
Never one to miss an opportunity,
he charmed his way into a story meeting
with execs at Pinewood studios.
LLOYD: They were quite amused, I think.
"This is mr. J.J. Lloyd, apparently,
who's never written before, has written a wonderful film.
He's going to read it to us, aren't you?"
I said, "Yes, absolutely. Are you ready?"
Said, "Yeah." I read it.
And they said, "Well, actually, we're looking for a film for Adam Faith."
Can you get that sound again?
Well, I'll try.
(VIBRATING)
What a wonderful bottom note!
(VIBRATING)
So I started off
in a very lucky way, I would say.
NARRATOR: After breaking into the movies,
Jeremy's cheeky grin and suave manner
soon brought him parts in front of the camera
in films whose titles at least were memorable--
"Afternoon Of A Nymph,"
"Operation Snatch,"
and "The Wrong Box."
Jeremy's specialty being a kind of upper-crust Englishman.
I would say a chinless wonder,
you know, basically.
Sort of, "Hello, I just arrived. Hello, I know nothing."
- Mrs. Emma Peel. - How do you do?
Bertram Fortescue Winthrop Smith, to be absolutely accurate.
Such a name is a terrible disadvantage in this business.
After all, whoever heard of anyone having their chimney swept
by a Fortescue Winthrop Smith?
Yeah, I could do that quite easily
because I knew a lot of people like that.
NARRATOR: While Jeremy cornered the chinless market,
David Croft was ploughing a broad furrow of his own
after moving the BBC's light entertainment department
and producing "The Benny Hill Show."
He also picked up a few tricks of the trade
by studying other BBC shows,
particularly Galton and Simpson's "Steptoe And Son."
The particular thing I learned from Galton and Simpson
was reaction comedy.
All my comedy is reaction comedy.
It isn't the line that's important,
it's what the person it's being said to reacts--
Their reaction is the important thing.
NARRATOR: The Galton and Simpson master class
paid off in spades when David came to co-write a sitcom
with Jimmy Perry. It may have been set in World War II,
but "Dad's Army" became a timeless classic.
We'll simply be going through on the royal train,
camouflaged, of course.
Excuse me, sir. Is the train camouflaged,
or is the king camouflaged?
CROFT: It's what Mainwaring reacts to--
What Wilson is saying that's--
All the laughs come from that sort of aspect, really.
NARRATOR: David's career blossomed
as he mined a rich vein of nostalgia.
Meanwhile, Jeremy Lloyd's rake's progress
took him to beautiful downtown Burbank
and "Rowan And Martin's Laugh-in,"
where his quick wit brought him together
with America's ditsy comedy sweetheart.
Everybody loved Goldie.
I said, "Look, do I ever get to kiss you?"
She said, "Well, you better write it in."
Goldie, there's something I simply must do
on behalf of Englishmen everywhere.
- What's that? - Will you watch closely?
- Mm-hm. - Right.
Mm! Ah!
Well, chaps, put that in your brollies and fold them.
We thought it was terrific.
Really annoyed a lot of friends back home, you know?
NARRATOR: They were even more annoyed when Jeremy came back
and married Joanna Lumley.
Their marriage didn't last as long as the series they made together,
but it did lead to a more successful partnership between Lloyd and Croft.
Come on, the party's over.
We started working together
because he was in a show
called, "It's Awfully Bad For Your Eyes, Darling," which Jilly Cooper wrote.
- Come on, I'll help you. - Oh, careful, darling.
- Oh! - There we are.
Stop! I think I've had a stroke!
My leg's gone dead.
NARRATOR: "Awfully Bad," as it was known for short,
was the compost from which a whole sitcom era grew.
We got on very well together.
And in the course of chatting to him,
He said, "We should do something." I said, "Well, I've got an idea.
How about a department store?
Mostly the gent-- Gentlemen's part
of a department store." 'Cause he used to work at Simpson's-in-the-strand.
He said, "Have you got any written down?"
I said, "Yes, actually, I have."
He said, "Well, bring it over. Let's read it."
So he read it and said, "Well, when do you want to start?"
- (CASH REGISTER RINGING) - (THEME MUSIC PLAYING)
NARRATOR: David Croft's trademark
large cast of comedy actors
brought Jeremy Lloyd's brightly-coloured characters to life.
And Grace Brothers kept record numbers of characters happy
- over 10 series of... - Are you being served?
NARRATOR: And when actor Gorden Kaye turned up to play a bit part,
he showed he could talk Croft and Lloyd's language.
"Could I play Scotch?"
In god name-- In god's name, why?
I said, "Well, I could have a pop-up sporran."
Now watch.
My friends call me Candid Cameron.
Well, if you wear this, they'll call you gabardine Angus.
He was not fazed at all when he came into "Are You Being Served?"
With some quite national heroes, you know.
They were well-known comedy players.
But he stuck up for his bit.
NARRATOR: Impressed with the way Gorden popped up out of the blue,
David and Jeremy cast him as a news reader
in their futuristic Mollie Sugden spin-off, "Come Back Mrs. Noah."
The series didn't, but the cast included ex-"Benny Hill" girl,
Vicki Michelle.
I remember I was sort of sprayed gold,
because I was a robot
and they wanted me to sort of have a robot body.
This is an order. You will take the top off.
She was wonderful, actually. She was very sexy
and very funny and she took to it wonderfully.
But all these people go-- go into one's mind.
And when you're casting again, which David does very well,
you think, "Oh, wouldn't it be wonderful to have, you know,
Gorden Kaye, Vicki Michelle? Who else?" Whatever.
As long as you've got the vehicle.
NARRATOR: So what Croft and Lloyd needed
was a show that used the components of their previous successes,
the expert team playing of "Dad's Army,"
the nonstop pace of "Rowan And Martin's Laugh-in,"
and the in-your-face double entendre
from "Are You Being Served?" in other words,
the essential ingredients of classic farce.
Surely a doddle from the mind that gave us mrs. Slocombe's pussy.
I started writing the thing with David,
which wasn't going that well
for either of us, really.
Sort of "Upstairs, Downstairs."
We were busy on the downstairs bit
and after three days I really wasn't enjoying it.
So we finished for the day.
By midnight I found myself lying under the dining room table--
A good place to be-- running through the alphabet.
And I got to "R" and I thought,
"Yes. Or maybe 'F.'
The French resistance, that's good.
We can do something on that." and phoned him up.
And it was sort of, definitely midnight or after.
He was in bed, I think he was asleep.
He woke up and said, "What do you want? What do you want?"
Came up with this idea, said, "Why don't we sort of take
the piss out of an army-type show?"
So it was sort of a "Dad's Army" group of Germans
in a little part of France
where nothing was happening.
And that's how it started.
NARRATOR: So they had a subject,
a setting, the title "'Allo 'Allo!"
and a script which they sent to their chosen leading man Gorden Kaye
who got hold of the wrong end of "ze stick."
"'Allo 'Allo!' playing Rene?
Is this about the backstage angst
of a female impersonator?"
I think even for David... (INHALES)
Ooh, no.
(THEME MUSIC PLAYING)
NARRATOR: Well, female impersonators did come into it.
But when the series of "'Allo 'Allo!" started in 1984,
Rene Artois ran a cafe, the hub of life
in the quiet village of Nouvion during the German occupation.
I think the staging room for any television show
has to-- has to be a central focus
of where the thing is all taking part.
NARRATOR: Like Rick's in "Casablanca,"
Cafe Rene is a magnet for all.
It is I, Leclerc.
Well, well.
NARRATOR: A social whirlpool
where customers ate, drank, ogled the waitresses
and were entertained by Rene's wife Edith.
(SINGS OFF-KEY)
(GLASS SHATTERS)
NARRATOR: Harassed by his bed ridden mother-in-law upstairs...
- Ahhh! - Shut up, you silly old bat!
NARRATOR: ...downstairs, Rene presides over chaotic scenes of espionage...
Someone is coming!
I will recede down the back passage.
- ...treachery... - If I want to shoot you,
I only have to say the word.
- "Fire." - ...and adultery.
Promise me that nothing will ever come between us.
I am doing my best.
You have to have somewhere where people can gather
and plot and plan.
Yes, absolutely. Plotting and planning is always good in shows.
NARRATOR: Most of the plotting and planning
revolved around the priceless painting
of the Fallen Madonna with the big boobies.
It was stolen from Hitler by two German officers,
colonel Von Strohm and captain Hans Geering,
who decided on Rene's cafe as a hiding place.
However, I am prepared to overlook this,
if you will agree to hide a few little articles
and a worthless picture from the chateau.
Ah, is it the reclining Madonna with the big boobies?
NARRATOR: Richard Marner's colonel was madly assisted
in these shenanigans by Sam Kelly's character, Hans Geering.
Keep still, Hans.
Trees don't wiggle up and down.
I'm sorry, colonel.
I am having a problem with a squirrel.
I think he's looking for some nuts.
He would dress up and he would become somebody else
and play the-- Play a silly ass
and all that sort of thing.
And he got himself into extraordinary situations.
NARRATOR: Croft and Lloyd's German occupying force
became the TV world's most incompetent nazis.
And once, Geering even tried to assassinate his own general.
Oh my god, the gateau from the chateau.
What about the gateau from the chateau?
It contains a bomb!
A bomb in the gateau from the chateau?
It is to blow up the general.
Rene, you do not need to kill the general.
We have already arranged to kill the general.
Ah, do you not see
that if we kill him with the pill from the till
by making with it the drug in the jug,
you need not light the candle with the handle of the gateau from the chateau?
NARRATOR: Sam Kelly had worked with Gorden Kaye some years before
on stage in the play "Black Comedy."
and now Gorden recommended him
as a recruit to the "'Allo 'Allo!" gang.
Sam had done time at Slade Prison,
appearing as Bunny alongside Ronnie Barker and Richard Beckinsale
in "Porridge"
before swapping his prison blues for nazi regalia
and becoming Hans Geering,
the captain with the mistimed salute.
- Heil Hitler. - 'tler!
He would say, "Heil Hitler" and Hans would say--
And listen to this because don't write to me anymore--
Half the word "Hitler."
"'tler." That's all it was-- T-L-E-R.
Because he couldn't be bothered saying the rest.
Didn't like him much anyway, you know.
So it was "'tler."
And because you have to close your mouth when you said it,
looks like you said "B" or "P." so it became "clop."
"Club."
Barry took on "Points Of View,"
said it was "Club" and it was German for "ditto."
He made it up.
NARRATOR: Hard on the trail
of the Fallen Madonna with the considerable cleavage
was the man who gave the Gestapo a bad name--
- Herr Otto Flick. - Heil Hitler.
- 'tler.
My orders are directly from Berlin.
NARRATOR: The godson of Himmler and a vision in leather,
Flick was sent to Nouvion as he was a master of disguise...
Arrest him!
...a stickler for detail...
Stop. Your right stocking is also crooked.
Yes, Herr Flick.
Attend to it.
...and instilled fear into the heart of the local peasantry.
Heil Hitler!
(ALL BLOW RASPBERRIES)
Herr Flick, the Gestapo officer,
was a piece of inspired casting
because he was so different from anyone
who had ever played that sort of part before.
Up to that point in his career
he'd been playing children, actually.
So he had a marvellous, young, innocent face,
As opposed to the scar down the cheek.
NARRATOR: Richard Gibson's innocent face
was first seen in 1970 in the movie "The Go Between,"
starring Julie Christie.
He was still looking young enough at 23
to appear alongside David Croft's daughter Rebecca
in "Children Of The New Forest."
But for Herr Flick, out went the tunic
and in came the leather coat and the pronounced character limp.
Given the chance, I would have had eye patches,
false limbs, mechanical bits.
Oh no, you wouldn't have been able to see me.
I'd have been buried amongst bits of equipment.
NARRATOR: Besides preventing Herr Flick from discovering
the whereabouts of the painting of the amply endowed virgin,
Rene also had his hands full dealing with Michelle from the resistance
and her unexpected entrances.
Now listen very carefully,
I shall say this only once.
Michelle was what I would think is really the straight guy--
Straight girl of it-- Because I was
always terribly serious about and committed about what I was doing.
Let us come to the crunch.
The crunch?
The nitty-gritty.
Are you a collaborator or are you with the resistance?
Is that thing loaded?
I am desperate. I have one up the spout.
I thought it was just jolly funny.
They all wore the same thing like a uniform.
I mean, any bright Gestapo officer could say,
"You're dressed like that, you're arrested." you know?
But it was part of the bizarre nature of the program.
COOKE: If you wanted to be a resistance girl
you had to wear the beret and the mac and socks.
NARRATOR: Michelle's mission was to persuade Rene
to help two shot-down British airmen,
get the blithering idiots out of danger
and back to Blighty.
I think I've cracked it.
We're riding on the wrong side of the road.
It was fairly clear to me that the character
would have absolutely no idea what was going on at all
all the way through.
And so really, it was a sort of
facial expression, which was a sort of--
I mean, you know, "What the hell's going on?"
Are you expecting us, by any chance?
What does he say?
I don't know, I don't speak English.
Neither do I.
We wish to talk...
KAYE: The worry for us--
And for me and myself and Vicki--
Because that's when the British airmen arrive--
Is, will the audience twig
that they don't understand us and we don't understand them?
I have it. They are the airmen.
You...
Are two days too soon.
Too soon, eh?
What's he going on about?
I think he wants your watch before he lets us in.
It worked. I mean, it worked.
They don't understand-- Even though
our cast is speaking in English,
the English airmen do not understand what they're saying.
And that's part of the fun, I think.
Ah, Michelle!
These two idiots are here two days too soon.
What am I going to do with them?
- You must hide them. - I can't hide them!
I have had no time to organise things.
I have not yet prepared the cellar.
Go and find us a table where we will be alone.
I have a little English. I will explain.
Okay, chaps, follow the boss.
Thank god, she speaks English!
And it was such a wonderfully comic tool to use,
because everybody could understand what everybody was saying,
but you had this wonderful situation where
the people in the scene couldn't.
NARRATOR: With the confusion over language sorted out
to comical effect, "'Allo 'Allo!" was free
to establish itself as a family favourite
for British TV audiences,
though there were still people out there
who didn't see the funny side of life under German occupation.
B.R. Thomas of London's Southeast 12 feels that...
Mr. Thomas also says...
Initially, after the first series, there was a bit of a reaction.
I think it was because people weren't sure
whether they could laugh about the war.
I think we realized that it was a controversial sort of thing to do.
And for that reason
I took a tape of the pilot to some people I knew in the S.A.S.
in Chelsea barracks.
I left it with them and said,
you know, "What do you think?"
and they did sort of inquire around and show it about,
and they thought it was very funny.
I think "'Allo 'Allo!" at the time
sort of broke down some of the barriers on television
as to what you could-- That you could actually
make fun of a previous enemy, I would say, basically.
And in a way, quite a lot of Germans have said,
"We actually rather appreciate the fact
that we're being allowed to be part of the joke,
that we can laugh together at this."
NARRATOR: Despite "'Allo 'Allo!"'s critics,
a second series was commissioned.
Viewers wanted more of the mother-in-law
freaking out every time London called.
- (BEEPING) - Ahhh!
I'm going mad! I am seeing flashing knobs.
They loved it whenever the airmen popped up.
BOTH: Hello.
They got confused when Rene was shot.
And everyone was desperate to know what had happened to the painting.
What is written on that label in the corner?
I don't know. It is in English. I don't understand.
I speak a little English. I will try to translate for you.
Oh.
"Please note, this is the...
forgery."
NARRATOR: But if Rene had been shot,
how could he still be holding the painting?
And who had the original? To answer all this
a "Previously on ''Allo 'Allo!'" was introduced
narrated by Rene. Or was it?
Welcome to my cafe.
I am happy to tell you that life here is back to normal.
The two English airmen who were hiding here
have been taken away by the resistance
and are being hidden in a nearby nunnery.
The painting of the Fallen Madonna with the big boobies by Van Klomp,
which I was hiding in my cellar,
is now in the possession of Herr Flick of the gestapo.
I have been shot dead
and I am now posing as my own twin brother.
LLOYD: The show was like a continuous story.
So it was so complicated that we used to simpl--
Try and simplify it in that speech
so the audience would know what had happened
and to look forward to what was going to happen.
NARRATOR: To continue the story of the Fallen Madonna
and her generous bosom,
Croft and Lloyd decided to complicate matters next time around
by hiding forgeries of the painting inside sausages.
Now as I understand it,
this is the one containing the real painting
because it has on it a little swastika, eh?
Now one of these I cook
and the other one contains the forged painting,
which you are going to send to Hitler, correct?
Very nearly, yes.
We were dominated by sausages, basically.
Um, and it was a very good way of transporting the painting.
I did start to lose the plot a little bit,
sometimes, where-- Because you're doing the next week
and you go, "Where is the Fallen Madonna this week?
Where did we hide it last week?"
Well, the plots actually were very logical and quite simple
and straightforward. They're not nearly as complicated as you think.
It's basically there's a sausage,
which has the Fallen Madonna with the big boobies in it, which is then forged.
And is that the actual painting or was that the copy of the painting?
It's then forged again.
And the forgery ends up in the hands of the colonel and the captain.
Herr Flick has one which is hanging up in his wardrobe.
How many copies were made and which is the original?
And we would be sort of stuck. "Who's doing what?"
But I mean, as long as you keep your eye on which one is the real one,
it's not complicated at all.
I used to have to ring up my secretary
and say, "Where the hell did we leave the sausages and what was in them?"
NARRATOR: If keeping abreast of the Fallen Madonna,
the sausages and their whereabouts wasn't bad enough,
Croft and Lloyd decided to add a whole new dimension
to the play on languages...
They have sent him because he speaks French.
ALL: Ah!
(FRENCH ACCENT) 'Allo, everybody.
To hear our own tongue!
...by introducing an Englishman
who brought a whole new meaning to the word bilingual.
I have digeesed as poluceman,
so I am ober to move aboot
with complate frodom.
And it was David's idea to have the policeman
who spoke bad-- The bad French.
Oh! Oh!
I was pissing by the door...
when I heard two shots.
His character, of course, was based on Ted Heath,
who spoke French and he had a very good vocabulary,
but no attempt at the French accent.
(SPEAKING FRENCH)
(BOSTROM SPEAKING FRENCH)
--With that frightfully southern England voice.
You know, I mean, all the words were there
but just no attempt at accent.
So we actually started off that way.
I think David liked that as an idea.
NARRATOR: The other idea that both David and Jeremy liked
was that you couldn't really have a farce set in France
Without sex. Lots of it.
Yvette, my little tiger!
Oh, Rene. My big cuddly bear!
My little chicken.
Oh, hold me!
Kiss me!
- Oh! - Rene!
What are you doing with your arms around that girl?
You stupid woman!
Can you not see she is suffering from claustrophobia?
(GASPS)
You make up a Rene
who's not that attractive with a slightly wonky eye
that girls are mad about.
Gorden was an unlikely sex symbol.
Crush my lips with your lips.
Do all those things you do that drive me crazy with raging desire.
Maria, we are only in the broom cupboard.
Oh, Rene!
I think Gorden would say himself
he's not an oil painting. But the way he was portrayed
and the way all the girls fancied him,
I think it brought that any normal man in the street
thought, "God, if he can do it, I've got a chance with women."
NARRATOR: It wasn't just the ladies who went wonky-eyed over Rene.
♪ Mad about the boy ♪
♪ I know it's stupid, but I'm mad about the boy. ♪
NARRATOR: Tank commander lieutenant Gruber
didn't find the war much to his taste,
but did, however, fancy the apron of Rene.
We weren't sure if he was homosexual or not.
Obviously was.
But he handled that subtly and beautifully.
Rene, 'tis you!
Please, lieutenant, do not give me away.
Don't worry, your secret is safe with me.
No no, you do not understand.
Yes, I do!
He didn't want camp. He didn't want...
Sort of outrageously gay
or, you know, screaming queen.
That wasn't what it-- What it was supposed to be.
NARRATOR: While Rene was busy keeping Gruber at arm's length
after seducing his waitresses himself,
he was also more than willing to hire them out
in return for black-market goods.
We have for you, Rene, 12 litres of paraffin,
four kilos of sugar
and one kilo...
- of butter. - Thank you, colonel.
Well, that should cover the flying helmet and the wet celery.
Well, they were hookers, the pair of them, yes.
(CHUCKLES)
So it was a little bit risqué,
but I think it was left up to the people's imaginations.
NARRATOR: But when the colonel's hot secretary Helga
got together with Herr Flick,
not much was left to the imagination at all.
Herr Flick, I hope you do not disapprove
of my choice of undergarments.
Not at all.
Such things are very popular in Berlin these days.
The busks and the underwear became such a treat.
You know, before we started filming
I'd go down for a meeting with the wardrobe mistress
and she'd say, "We thought we'd do one with leopard skin down the front.
And maybe we'll have some rhinestones and some tassels."
Bend over.
It is more effective if you grip it firmly
with both hands.
Now pull!
Thrust! Pull!
Thrust!
HARTMAN: I think she imagined she was a bit like Marlene Dietrich
and Lauren Bacall and people like that.
And she'd worked out, I'm sure, that she was going to work her way up
to Hitler, I would imagine,
depose Eva Braun and take over.
Thrust thrust thrust!
You're nearly there! Pull, thrust, pull, thrust!
- I cannot keep it up much longer! - You must! You must!
You get the impression she doesn't really like Herr Flick that much.
But there's something kinky that goes on as well.
- Stop! Stop! - Ah!
Was that all right?
For me, excellent.
(LAUGHS)
Yes, we weren't sure we could get away with that one.
But the way it was done,
It was acceptable, you know? Just.
NARRATOR: By the end of series three,
Croft and Lloyd had mixed into the plot
that standby of wartime drama-- The escape tunnel.
There, are you satisfied?
NARRATOR: This being sitcom, it resulted in the whole cast,
including Von Strohm and Hans,
surfacing in a British P.O.W. camp.
♪ Hitler has only got one-- ♪
Silence!
NARRATOR: Hitler may have only had the one,
but the dictator on the "'Allo 'Allo!" set,
David Croft, had balls enough for all,
not only writing, but producing and directing the show.
He would stand in his shirtsleeves
with his arms like this.
And he would do the-- What we came to regard
as the "Muttly laugh." He would go...
- (WHEEZY CHUCKLING) - (WHEEZY CHUCKLING)
In which case, you knew it was in.
Or he'd go...
No. (LAUGHS)
And again, it was just marvellous
because he would-- You were sort of squished.
Somebody said, "You know, I think I should try it this way."
And he said, "Nope." His classic, "Nope."
And he said, "No no, I really think--
I really think, um, it would be better if I did it this way."
"Nope."
And David said, "Do it that way."
And eventually the guy said, "Can I just try it once?"
"All right, try it."
So he tried it. And then he did it David's way
and said, "Actually, David, I think you're right."
And he said, "I know I'm right. And I've got two houses
and a swimming pool and a Rolls-Royce to prove it."
NARRATOR: Aware of the commercial possibilities
of "'Allo 'Allo!" David and Jeremy decided
to make a theatrical farce out of life at cafe Rene
and "'Allo 'Allo!" began a stage tour in 1986.
The show broke box-office records all over the country
and meant the cast spent even more time in each others' pockets.
It was almost like a permanent full-time relationship.
There was nobody in "'Allo 'Allo!" that I thought,
"Oh no, a scene with-- huh-uh,"
You know, this particular person. No. We were a family.
Goodbye, Hans.
NARRATOR: But when "'Allo 'Allo!" returned for series four
with the cast still in the P.O.W. camp,
one member of the family, Sam Kelly,
felt he should get out while on top.
And Hans made a quick exit.
One down, 249 to go.
KELLY: It was quite emotional, actually.
I was quite sad to go.
I think at the time I was a bit scared of being typecast.
I regret it now because it went from strength to strength
and I'd like to have stayed and done some more.
I sort of regret it.
I didn't know what would happen.
I had a vague notion
that I might suddenly get a hugely high-paid TV commercial.
You know? And then I realized, of course, that nobody
wants nazis advertising their products.
NARRATOR: Sam appeared with Dennis Waterman
in "On The Up" in 1990.
Then the Third Reich beckoned again in 1993,
offering Sam the top job-- Hitler himself
in David Nobbs' "Stalag Luft"
co-starring stiff upper lip Stephen Fry.
(SPEAKING GERMAN)
Away from the bunker and back at the comedy cafe,
David Croft and Jeremy Lloyd must have had visions
of "'Allo 'Allo!" lasting for 1,000 years.
Their basic formula of silliness, suspenders and sausages
became a runaway success. 30 million viewers
couldn't get enough.
I am weeking in a ginger fashion
because my poluceman's pints are full of dynamoot.
NARRATOR: The show's popularity was quite awesome
both here and abroad.
Half the households in England were watching it,
and, as my mother used to say, everybody from the duchess
to the gardener's daughter.
It went right across class, it went right across race.
It played in, what, something like 70 countries?
It was translated into untold languages.
Why it became big in somewhere like...
Botswana, I don't know.
I have no answer to that.
I mean, I've seen myself dubbed in Chinese and--
Which is very funny, really.
It just worked.
NARRATOR: It even worked in France,
which meant Crabtree's mangled English in a French accent
became mangled French in an English accent.
Or is it the other way around?
(SPEAKING FRENCH WITH ENGLISH ACCENT)
And I remember that David and Jeremy
said they'd taken it to some festival
when they first started doing it
and the Germans went to see it
and they laughed their socks off.
That was very amusing.
(GERMAN ACCENT) "We think it is very funny, but we'll never show it."
That was not so amusing.
NARRATOR: By 1990,
"'Allo 'Allo!" seemed unstoppable.
But then, disaster struck.
MALE ANNOUNCER: "The six o'clock news" from the BBC.
Gorden Kaye, one of the stars of "'Allo 'Allo!"
is still critically ill in hospital.
He was sitting in the middle of a gale in his car,
thinking he'd better not get out because of winds--
70 miles an hour--
And a hoarding blew off through his windscreen
and a great big metal bolt went through his head.
It was the most dreadful thing in the world.
it was very serious.
He was at death's door for a long long time.
The night before Gorden had been sitting
in my dressing room-- on the sofa in my dressing room
drinking a cup of coffee, laughing and chatting.
And then suddenly he was in intensive care
and it-- It was just so shocking.
NARRATOR: But Gorden made such a remarkable recovery
and was back at work so quickly,
even the cast was surprised.
Lieutenant Gruber!
Ah!
I was back in less than six months after the accident,
which could be thought to have been too soon.
But because I loved the show so much,
whether it be stage or television version of it,
I was determined to honour my contract.
People would stand and give him, you know, standing ovations
as he walked in the room. And he was sort of cast as a miracle man.
If Gorden had not come through that experience,
I think that would have been the end of "'Allo 'Allo!"
Her boobies are not big enough.
They look all right to me.
NARRATOR: even though it was not the end of "'Allo 'Allo!"
for Gorden, in 1991 David Croft thought his time had come.
CROFT: I thought the show had gone on long enough.
And I had the luxury of saying enough was enough,
as far as I was concerned.
The audience still wanted--
The public still wanted the show.
But I think when you've done 50 or 60 episodes,
you're on borrowed time, really.
There came a point where gags were starting to appear again
in, um...
slightly different form.
So I think I bailed out after the best of it, I think.
NARRATOR: David resumed his other great partnership
which had produced "Dad's Army."
He and Jimmy Perry also turned to '70s television
in "You Rang, My Lord?" a sitcom version
of "Upstairs, Downstairs."
It starred members of Croft's "Hi-de-hi!" team,
who were also put to work on the railway comedy "Oh, Dr. Beeching!"
Jeremy Lloyd's term of duty on "'Allo 'Allo!"
continued with new writers for three more series,
in which the farce carried on until the end of World War II.
You'd like to write 100 shows.
And you get to 92 and you think,
"No, I think I just have to finish it here."
So I-- I wrote an end show that--
I wrote the end so it couldn't be continued.
NARRATOR: So in December, 1992,
Jeremy brought together Rene and his old sparring partners
for a final encounter.
I see they've erected a statue to you, Rene.
What is this?
Eh...
(GASPS)
The painting of the Fallen Madonna.
NARRATOR: With the post-war discovery
of the original Van Klomp Fallen Madonna,
"'Allo 'Allo!" came to a rousing climax.
Croft and Lloyd's partnership, however, rolled on
and they produced two series of "Grace & Favour,"
a sequel to "Are You Being Served?"
but "'Allo 'Allo!" remains a firm favourite to this day,
and not just with the viewers.
Fantastic to be cast in something like that.
Changed my life. It was fab.
I think I'm proud to be part of one of the greatest
sitcoms and one of the greatest partnerships
that-- not only in British television,
but television all over the world has produced.
Very lucky to do what you enjoy doing
that entertains a lot of people.
It was a very privileged position.
I had my own empire, virtually. I did what I wanted
and I was allowed to do it and I had just about enough money.
Oh!
Rene, what are you doing with that serving girl?
You stupid woman!
Can you not see I am eloping?
You have been witching cimidy connoctions.
Good nit and thonks for pissing by.