Leonard Rossiter was at his absolute best as Reginald Perrin, the middle-class, middle-aged, middle manager who was going through a potentially terminal middle-life crisis.
It seems terrible to laugh at anyone undergoing a slow nervous breakdown, and yet Rossiter and the script-writers simply left us no choice.
As the serial progresses we see this tragic individual borne down by the dull predictable calamity that is life. It's the same for most of us. Every day he commutes from his home in poetic suburbs, catches a train that is always delayed for increasingly bizarre reasons, and arrives at the office, late.
He fantasizes about his secretary, is harassed by his boss, and contends with two dimwit colleagues.
Finally, he cracks and fakes a suicide. He leaves the office where he has been inexplicably dying to shout 'parsnips' all day, climbs into a taxi and, asked where he wants to go, shouts 'parsnips'. Whereupon the phlegmatic cabbie responds 'Dunno that one, guv. Is it some new place?' And the rest is history.
Rossiter seems to have been drastically under-utilised as a comedian. Apart from 'Rising Damp' he appears to have had very few front-man opportunities. It's also a pity he didn't do more adverts for Cinzano Bianco, because these likewise demonstrated his astonishing comic timing and delivery. They might have been compiled into an interesting DVD.
Still, we must make do with what we have. And what we have is a rendition of Nobbs's work that is absolutely unsurpassable. I'll resist the temptation to utter any of the many one-liners. Save to say British comedy gets no better than this.
It seems terrible to laugh at anyone undergoing a slow nervous breakdown, and yet Rossiter and the script-writers simply left us no choice.
As the serial progresses we see this tragic individual borne down by the dull predictable calamity that is life. It's the same for most of us. Every day he commutes from his home in poetic suburbs, catches a train that is always delayed for increasingly bizarre reasons, and arrives at the office, late.
He fantasizes about his secretary, is harassed by his boss, and contends with two dimwit colleagues.
Finally, he cracks and fakes a suicide. He leaves the office where he has been inexplicably dying to shout 'parsnips' all day, climbs into a taxi and, asked where he wants to go, shouts 'parsnips'. Whereupon the phlegmatic cabbie responds 'Dunno that one, guv. Is it some new place?' And the rest is history.
Rossiter seems to have been drastically under-utilised as a comedian. Apart from 'Rising Damp' he appears to have had very few front-man opportunities. It's also a pity he didn't do more adverts for Cinzano Bianco, because these likewise demonstrated his astonishing comic timing and delivery. They might have been compiled into an interesting DVD.
Still, we must make do with what we have. And what we have is a rendition of Nobbs's work that is absolutely unsurpassable. I'll resist the temptation to utter any of the many one-liners. Save to say British comedy gets no better than this.