As told to Rich Pelley 

Jane Asher: ‘Would I do another nude scene? Never say never!’

The actor on night terrors, Brideshead Revisited, nearly becoming a doctor and Starbucks in Cobham
  
  

Jane Asher with her specially commissioned cake to mark Shakespeare’s 450th birthday in 2014
Jane Asher with her specially commissioned cake to mark Shakespeare’s 450th birthday in 2014. Photograph: Ian Gavan/Getty Images

If you were going to bake a Jane Asher cake that best summed you up, what would you bake and how would you decorate it? TopTramp
Summing somebody up is a tall order. I do love ginger cake, particularly the dark, Jamaican ginger type. I would make it nice and sticky, then obviously it’s got to be iced and decorated, maybe with little theatre masks and TV screen decorations to sum up the work side of my life. I guess I should put a cake on a cake because cakes are a big part of my life. So: a tiered cake? The cakes that delight me the most are those made by my grandchildren, which come smothered in sprinkles. I have all different kinds of decorations, so whenever my grandchildren are here, they pile it on. They are chaos, but to me, they’re the most beautiful cakes in the world.

You are – as am I – of a certain age, and it will be my birthday soon. Does the thought of time’s winged chariot occupy your mind? Or do you think it’s just another day – ‘Que será, será’? studsup
It more occupies one’s nights rather than days. You can drop into dark pits if you’re not careful. Age becomes part of the yawning abyss that is beside us all. The things that worry you change. At a young age, I was terribly afraid of losing my parents, especially my mother. In midlife, you worry about dying yourself. What will it be like? Will I die in terrible pain? Now in my ancient age [she is 78], I get depressed and scared if I think about my children at my funeral, so hurt and upset, because it’s horrible when the people closest to you die. Or maybe they won’t care at all! All the cliches that you’ll make the most of every day … but you can’t go around thinking: “I’ve got to enjoy every minute,” because you can’t. Looking back, you are often happiest when you’ve been doing something really boring, ordinary, just getting through the day. So – yes – but not to an overwhelming extent.

When you played Celia Ryder in the 1981 ITV adaptation of Brideshead Revisited, you gave an extra dimension to a character who, in the book, comes across as simply unpleasant. I’ve always thought an actor should like the character they are playing, so the audience can engage with them fully and then make their own minds up. Do you agree and did you sympathise with Celia? WomanofWolfville
It’s not so much you’ve got to like them, but you have to see their point of view. Otherwise, you are going to overlay your external feelings. I’ve played fascist murderers – it’s hard to admire them from the outside, but it doesn’t mean you can’t get into their mindset. Celia Ryder was an irritating, rather smug, silly woman. But while playing her, I became absolutely incensed that Jeremy Irons’ character was sleeping with Diana Quick’s character while I was lying ill on the ship.

I really loved your turn in the Vicente Aranda film, Tirant lo Blanc. How was it doing a nude scene so many years after Deep End? Do you agree with Joanna Lumley’s take on screen nudity? repoman71 and mkwasp
I haven’t seen the film because I don’t watch things I’m in. The nude scene was horrible. They are always unpleasant. You’re embarrassed. You worry about how you look. There were no intimacy coordinators like you get now. You just took your dressing gown off and had to trust that the director would not show the bits of you that you didn’t want shown.

Absolutely, I agree with Jo Lumley, who is a good friend, particularly when she says screen nudity takes you out of whatever you are watching. You think: “There’s Jane Asher taking her clothes off,” rather than it’s a character in the film. You can’t help it and it spoils it. Hinting at sex or nudity is more effective than stripping off completely. I wouldn’t do it now, but never say never! I think it’s quite unlikely, except with a lot of nice rosy filters through the magic of modern technology.

Will we ever again see the positivity, social mobility and optimism that was about in the UK when your acting career took off? SansCulottes1789
Well, I was five, so it’s hard for me to say. We all feel immensely depressed at the state of the world, don’t we? I don’t want to be gloomy about the future because you worry about your children and your grandchildren. There are a lots of wonderful things happening. I’m a strong believer in science and medicine, and AI – its good side, at least – is doing wonders already. Health and happiness in general are a lot better. But it’s hard to feel it at the moment. It’s like we’re living in a bad dream.

I saw you shopping a few years ago in Sainsbury’s, Cobham. Do you think it was better when they had an in-house Starbucks? I do. ArthurSternom
This is a very important question. I don’t feel quite qualified to answer because I’m not sure I was there in the days when it had this wonderful Starbucks. But I can say extra coffee anywhere has got to be a bonus as far as I’m concerned. So the answer is probably yes.

You recently trod the boards as Lady Kitty in Somerset Maugham’s The Circle, where you typically played two shows a day. How do you unwind after performing in such a demanding production? VerulamiumParkRanger
Wine is involved. I’ve already mentioned my coffee addiction, a morning thing, but a glass of wine in the evening is a very important, enjoyable part of my life. I usually have some supper, watch a bit of rubbish on the television. Nothing startling. I don’t suddenly do yoga! I’ll talk to [husband] Gerald [Scarfe], probably for a moan about the show: “I didn’t do this well.” It’s hard to go straight to bed. You’re still kind of wound up. When I did pantomime – I’ve played the Wicked Queen and Snow White – we did two shows every day. But you can’t moan because panto is such a joyous thing to do.

How did you make it through the Beatles phase of your life while staying sane, balanced and with your sense of self still intact? eamonmcc
Well, this question assumes I have a sense of self. I became very wary of the press early on, and I decided to keep my private life as private as I possibly could, which was hard because my life was so publicised at that time. I probably became too wary, and reluctant to talk about anything. Back then, journalists seemed to write anything, regardless of whether it was true or not. So whether I’ve kept a sense of self … I don’t quite know what my self is. But it’s reasonably settled, I guess.

Did you have a chance at a Hollywood career or were you happy working here? Kellysahero1970
I don’t know whether I would have been an actor, had I not done it from such a young age. I was walking along the street, with very long bright-red hair. Not like my pretend red now. It was an extraordinary colour and some film producer said: “I want to have that girl in my film.” It was a tiny part in Mandy, a very good film about a girl who is deaf. What always mystifies me is that it was black and white. I was asked to do other bits in films from aged five onwards. I had no grand plan. My father was a well-known doctor. I remember saying in an interview years ago: “I probably should have done something more serious with my life.” I had this lovely letter from a woman saying: “For goodness sake, shut up about how you should have done this, you should have done that. You entertain people, and we enjoy it.” I thought: “Yeah, absolutely. Shut up, Jane.” So there you are.

• A Family Affair is out now on digital platforms

 

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