Remembering Rik Mayall

By 13 September 1982, Kevin Turvey had already been quietly clogging up A Kick Up the Eighties with his investigations. That was the night BBC Two decided he deserved a programme of his own: Kevin Turvey: The Man Behind the Green Door.

It was a beautifully perverse idea. Take a man from Redditch who regards every non-event as a major public inquiry, give him a fly-on-the-wall documentary and let him wander off the point until the point files a missing-person report. The special followed a week in Kevin’s life, including his home, the library and the so-called work of the Midlands’ least useful investigative reporter. Robbie Coltrane, Ade Edmondson, Gwyneth Guthrie and Roger Sloman were along for the ride, which tells you how much faith people had in Rik even then.

Kevin gets overlooked when people start naming their favourite Rik characters, and I think that is a mistake. Rick was a firework. Richie was a hand gr***de in a stained vest. Kevin was something harder to do: a man who could talk himself into a corner, then continue explaining the wallpaper. Rik trusted the pauses, the wandering logic and that solemn Brummie certainty that nothing was quite what it seemed, even when it plainly was.

The credits originally named Kevin rather than Rik, because part of the joke was the possibility that this hopeless little reporter might actually exist. That is such a wonderful early-Mayall instinct. He was not asking us to admire a clever sketch; he wanted us to sit with a character long enough for the comedy to become oddly believable.

Kevin Turvey did not uncover a scandal. He exposed something much more familiar: the heroic confidence of a man who has understood precisely nothing, then decided the country needs a report about it.

On this day 39 years ago, The New Statesman arrived on ITV for the very first time — and Rik Mayall had found another character he could completely let loose with.

The opening episode, Happiness Is a Warm Gun, was first broadcast on 13 September 1987. It introduced viewers to Alan B’Stard, the spectacularly selfish, corrupt and ambitious Tory MP played by Rik, alongside Michael Troughton as Piers Fletcher-Dervish and Marsha Fitzalan as Alan’s wife Sarah.

The first story immediately established exactly what sort of man Alan was going to be. After winning his seat in Parliament, he becomes involved in a plan to arm the police — while also spotting an opportunity to make money from selling them the guns himself.

It was written by Laurence Marks and Maurice Gran and directed by Geoffrey Sax.

The series went on to run for four series (plus specials) between 1987 and 1994, with Alan B’Stard becoming one of Rik Mayall’s most memorable creations.

Rik had already made his name through The Young Ones and The Comic Strip Presents..., but Alan gave him a very different sort of character to play — smug, ruthless, completely shameless and usually convinced he was the cleverest man in the room.

For fans of Rik Mayall, it is hard to believe it has now been 39 years since Alan B’Stard first appeared on our screens.

Rik Mayall’s final television appearance came in the brilliantly bonkers storytelling series Crackanory — and it felt like a fitting curtain call for a man who could turn even the simplest tale into total chaos.

In the episode, Rik read a story called The Weatherman, about a meteorologist who can “control the climate”. On paper it sounds straightforward. In Rik’s hands, it became something else entirely — unpredictable, manic, and full of that wide-eyed intensity only he could deliver.

It was a lovely full-circle moment too. Decades earlier, he’d given one of the most unforgettable performances in Jackanory, reading Roald Dahl’s George’s Marvellous Medicine in 1986. That performance was pure Rik — wild, mischievous and slightly dangerous — and it caused a bit of a stir at the time because of the story’s theme of a boy trying to poison his grandmother. Naturally, Rik leaned into it with gusto.

Speaking about Crackanory in one of his final interviews, he joked in typical fashion about the show’s title before adding something far more telling: “Storytelling has always been one of my great pleasures.” He spoke about watching heroes like Spike Milligan, Peter Sellers and Kenneth Williams on Jackanory as a boy, and how special that intimacy of storytelling felt.

That was Rik all over. Beneath the chaos, the shouting and the glorious absurdity, there was always craft — and a genuine love of performance.

His final appearance wasn’t a dramatic farewell. It was Rik doing what he did best: telling a story, completely his way. And somehow, that feels just right.

What did you think of this sitcom?

The New Statesman gave Rik Mayall one of his most memorable roles, but Alan B’Stard was very different from the anarchic Rick he had played in The Young Ones.

First broadcast in 1987, the series was created by Laurence Marks and Maurice Gran and followed Alan B’Stard, a thoroughly unscrupulous Conservative MP whose main interests were power, money, women and himself. He was selfish, ruthless and completely without morals, which gave Rik plenty to work with.

The show satirised British politics during the Conservative governments of the late 1980s and early 1990s, with Alan constantly looking for ways to improve his own position regardless of who suffered along the way. Michael Troughton played his gullible fellow MP Piers Fletcher-Dervish, while Marsha Fitzalan appeared as Alan’s wife Sarah.

Rik’s performance was much more controlled than some of his earlier comedy roles, but Alan still had that unmistakable Mayall aggression, confidence and ability to suddenly explode when things weren’t going his way.

The series ran for four main series between 1987 and 1992, with later specials taking it through to 1994. It was also a real critical success, winning the BAFTA for Best Comedy Series in 1991, beating competition including Drop the Dead Donkey and May to December.

For anyone who mainly remembers Rik as Rick in The Young Ones or Richie in Bottom, Alan B’Stard showed another side of what he could do.

Richie came out with some absolutely incredible chat up lines. 😂

We really were lucky to be part of a generation that got to watch Rik Mayall and Ade Edmondson make us laugh for years.

The pair first met while studying drama at Manchester University in the 1970s, and that meeting ended up producing one of the most memorable comedy partnerships Britain has seen. They began performing together on the alternative comedy circuit, including as The Dangerous Brothers, before becoming part of the group behind The Comic Strip Presents…

Then came The Young Ones in 1982, with Rik playing the painfully self-important Rick and Ade as the completely unhinged Vyvyan. It was loud, rude, violent and completely different from so much of the comedy that had come before it.

They later worked together again in Filthy Rich & Catflap, but for many fans it was Bottom that showed them at their absolute best. As Richie and Eddie, they took slapstick violence to ridiculous levels, battering each other with frying pans, falling through furniture and somehow turning two hopeless flatmates into characters people still quote today. The sitcom ran for three series from 1991 to 1995 and became successful enough to lead to live stage shows and eventually Guest House Paradiso.

Both also had successful careers away from the partnership. Rik was brilliant as Alan B’Stard in The New Statesman, appeared as Lord Flashheart in Blackadder and starred in Drop Dead Fred. Ade went on to take on more dramatic acting roles, as well as writing, music and television work.

But put the two of them together and there was just something special.

Years after Rik’s death in 2014, Ade summed it up beautifully when talking about his old friend and comedy partner: “I never laughed as hard as I did with Rik.”

And I think plenty of us watching them felt exactly the same.

Such a sad period for British comedy.

The dynamic between Rik Mayall and Adrian Edmondson in The Young Ones was pure lightning in a bottle. Looking at this image, you can practically hear Rik’s shrill, self-important voice as he desperately tries to prove he’s the intellectual of the house, even when the bar is set as low as a cereal box competition.
The brilliance of Rick, the "People’s Poet," was that he was always just one step away from a total meltdown. He couldn't help himself. Even when Vyvyan was doing something completely moronic, like trying to win a car that didn't exist with a ten-word poem about Cornflakes, Rick had to step in and correct the math. He wasn't trying to help; he just couldn't stand anyone else being "right," even about a total failure.
Rik Mayall had this incredible ability to make a character so unlikable on paper—whiny, backstabbing, and pretentious—and turn him into someone we all absolutely loved to watch. It was all in the physicality and those manic facial expressions. He didn't just deliver lines; he attacked them. Watching him and Ade play off each other felt less like scripted TV and more like watching two kids trying to make each other crack up while destroying a set.
That specific brand of chaotic British comedy changed everything in the eighties. It was loud, it was messy, and it was completely unapologetic. Rik was the engine behind so much of that energy. Whether he was being the pathetic anarchist in a dirty flat or the sleazy, over-the-top MP Alan B'Stard, he owned every second he was on screen.
There will never be another performer quite like Rik. He had a way of making the most ridiculous insults feel like high art. Seeing him here with that smug grin reminds you why he’s still the king of alternative comedy to so many of us. He left us far too soon, but the laughs he gave us aren't going anywhere.
What is your favorite memory or one-liner from Rick in The Young Ones?

If you haven’t seen All About George, it’s one of those British comedy-dramas that quietly slipped under the radar and really deserves more attention.

The series aired on ITV in 2005 and starred Rik Mayall as George Kinsey, an ordinary bloke trying to hold things together while living in a house shared by five generations of his family. What follows is a mix of sharp comedy and genuine warmth, as George deals with work, family tensions and the everyday pressures that come with having everyone under one roof.

It’s funny without being silly, heartfelt without being sentimental, and shows a different, more grounded side to Rik Mayall that a lot of people may not have seen. Despite only running for one series, it’s a complete story and well worth your time.

The great news is that it’s now free to watch on YouTube. A user called neilp190 has uploaded all the 6 episodes — and we’re genuinely grateful to them for making it available.

Definitely one to add to your watch list.