KENNETH MORE

Kenneth More entered the entertainment industry in a most unusual way, beginning his illustrious career at the infamous Windmill Theatre, London – the nursery of so many great British comedians. For Peter Sellers, Tony Hancock, Michael Bentine and a star-studded cast, all of whom cut their comedy teeth there, it could be a rather painful business, for the Windmill customers really came to see the nubile, if immobile, nudes, and a comic had to be both original and amusing to make the audience smile, let alone laugh.

This was a problem that at first did not present itself to the young ex-apprentice engineer, Kenneth More, son of an RFC officer. He just had a great time moving all the scenery and watching all the gorgeous girls pass by.

More was born on 20 September 1914, when the First World War was in its early weeks. His father was a comparatively wealthy man, having inherited a fortune not only from his own father, but also a maiden aunt. He was also good-hearted and over generous, and blew it all. Before that, however, young More, his sister and mother lived in splendid style, with a cook, a nanny, chauffeur, butler, and gardener, in a large house in Gerrards Cross. More also had the benefit of a good education, though clearly enjoyed sport more than academic studies, and failed to attain any qualifications by the time he left school.

Nevertheless, he did have the grit, determination and, as some would say, obstinacy of one of his most distinguished ancestors, Sir Thomas More. Kenneth More was friendly with the Queen, who, on one occasion after an evening dining at the Astors’ country estate, uncharacteristically kicked off her shoes to prove to him that in spite of all the walking and standing she did on ceremonial occasions, she still had no bunions. More, unlike his ancestor, cherished the friendship with his monarch, and it’s well known she admired his ability as an actor, having attended many a film premiere in which he appeared.

He had come a long way from the Windmill Theatre where, after shifting scenery, and later acting as a ‘feed’ to some of the comedians, he had gone into provincial rep. From there he slowly graduated to more orthodox repertory companies, becoming more professional and polished as the years passed. His acting career was interrupted when he was called up into the Royal Navy, where he soon became a junior officer, and saw the kind of action which he later depicted in war films with such realism.

Since he was a small boy, More had a recurring dream. It was one where he stood on the deck of a ship which was being dive-bombed by enemy planes. In this dream, or perhaps nightmare would be a more appropriate description, one of the planes dropped a bomb directly over him. As it was about to hit, More would wake up, sweating profusely. Whilst he was serving on the ship Aurora, he experienced in real life the exact details of his dream, when the ship was under attack from German Stukas, as they patrolled the Mediterranean. As the big bomb whistled its descent, More saw a Paramount newsreel cameraman filming the action close to his side. He immediately tackled the surprised man, and hurled him into a comer, while the bomb hit and exploded in the precise spot where the cameraman had been standing. More’s dream had saved both their lives, and after this dramatic event the dream never occurred again.

More went on to portray this kind of believable heroism in many of his film roles, and this was especially noticeable when he played roles in films based on real-life events. Characters such as Douglas Bader, the great Second World War fighter ace, in Reach For The Sky (1956), or the courageous second officer in A Night To Remember (1958), about the sinking of the Titanic, when out, of 2,208 passengers and crew, only 705 survived, or as Lieutenant Evans in Scott Of The Antarctic (1948), a telling of the tragic British expedition to the South Pole.

Kenneth More’s last courageous battle, his own personal fight against a crippling disease, was the one which sadly he lost. But he will always be remembered with great affection by cinema audiences, and by those who knew him-for his extrovert personality, his natural wit and, above all, an endearing warmth.

THE HEROES (IV)

DAVID NIVEN