A unique name is one way to make an impact. 'Yootha' is Maori for joy (and incidentally a name she loathed.) But she would probably have attracted just as much attention if she'd been Jane Smith.
Ugly-beautiful is the clue. So ugly, yet so beautiful.
A model agent would simply have shaken her head and moved on at the sight of this over-ripe painted lady with horror-film teeth. But theatre and TV audiences didn't. Nor did the public at large, as one friend recalls vividly when describing a trip to the beach, which had to be terminated abruptly, because of the huge pressing crowds.
None of this started happening until her middle age, which was all too brief (not famous till forty-six, dead at fifty-three). A controversial new TV sitcom had dared to show two girls and a man sharing a rented flat. The suspicious landlords were played by Yootha and her old friend Brian Murphy, initially in supporting roles. But their talent and teamwork was soon noticed, and the series became 'George and Mildred'.
Brian's talent was the more immediately noticeable, even though it was subtle and under-stated. As for Yootha, you wondered at first whether she was more personality than talent. But there was a wonderful nimbleness in the way she spoke her lines, enriched by her year at RADA. And so, the story of the ambitious, predatory wife and her shy little husband tickled a nerve in vast audiences. Even the repeat-showings regularly made it into the top three.
From then on, she had only to keep playing Mildred, and she would be made for life. Yet typecasting was just what she didn't want, and suddenly she was reaching for the brandy as well as chain smoking.
In contrast to her professional image, she was actually a deeply feminine person, feeling the absence of a husband after her (amicable) divorce; there would never be another close, lasting relationship. When she died, Brian said he felt the loss of a friend more than the loss of a colleague.
'Unforgettable' indeed.
Ugly-beautiful is the clue. So ugly, yet so beautiful.
A model agent would simply have shaken her head and moved on at the sight of this over-ripe painted lady with horror-film teeth. But theatre and TV audiences didn't. Nor did the public at large, as one friend recalls vividly when describing a trip to the beach, which had to be terminated abruptly, because of the huge pressing crowds.
None of this started happening until her middle age, which was all too brief (not famous till forty-six, dead at fifty-three). A controversial new TV sitcom had dared to show two girls and a man sharing a rented flat. The suspicious landlords were played by Yootha and her old friend Brian Murphy, initially in supporting roles. But their talent and teamwork was soon noticed, and the series became 'George and Mildred'.
Brian's talent was the more immediately noticeable, even though it was subtle and under-stated. As for Yootha, you wondered at first whether she was more personality than talent. But there was a wonderful nimbleness in the way she spoke her lines, enriched by her year at RADA. And so, the story of the ambitious, predatory wife and her shy little husband tickled a nerve in vast audiences. Even the repeat-showings regularly made it into the top three.
From then on, she had only to keep playing Mildred, and she would be made for life. Yet typecasting was just what she didn't want, and suddenly she was reaching for the brandy as well as chain smoking.
In contrast to her professional image, she was actually a deeply feminine person, feeling the absence of a husband after her (amicable) divorce; there would never be another close, lasting relationship. When she died, Brian said he felt the loss of a friend more than the loss of a colleague.
'Unforgettable' indeed.
