John Finnemore, writer
In the early noughties, I was writing for the radio sketch shows Dead Ringers and That Mitchell and Webb Sound and I wanted to try something narrative. My father was a pilot, and I came up with a two-hander about life in the flight deck: two people who haven’t chosen to be together, stuck in a small space for hours. Sitcoms need that element of being trapped, whether it’s a prison cell, a hotel or a rag-and-bone yard.
I originally structured the cast along the lines of Father Ted: two leads, two sidekicks. I started off with a louche, naturally authoritative captain and a try-hard first officer, but quickly reversed the roles. I don’t remember taking it from Dad’s Army but that’s the obvious example.I pitched it to the BBC and, after a good deal of wrangling, they said yes. Benedict Cumberbatch was clearly going places at that point, though he hadn’t gone there yet. The 2004 movie Hawking had been his breakthrough, and he’d played an uptight control freak in Starter for Ten, who was basically a more unpleasant version of Martin, my captain, which convinced me he was perfect for the part.
I had only written two episodes when we cast it, so I was able to write the rest with specific voices in mind: Roger Allam as first officer Douglas, Stephanie Cole as the airline’s owner, Carolyn. Almost immediately, I realised it was a terrible waste to keep Carolyn in the background, so she and Arthur the idiot steward – the bit part I’d written for myself – became bigger voices and it developed into a four-hander.
The first series went out in 2008. It was the early days of the iPlayer and social media, and there wasn’t much feedback. We had two nice reviews, but that was it. Then a second series got commissioned and it won a best radio comedy award, which helped spread the word.
We recorded live and there was a pretty good take-up for tickets. But the third series was post-Sherlock. Suddenly the audience was 90% female, mostly under 25 and they were queuing round the block. It was like Beatlemania. I was worried they just wanted to be in the same room as Benedict and that this would throw things off, but I was completely wrong. They listened and laughed at the other characters as much as they did at Martin. I suppose the sort of teenager who decides Sherlock Holmes is their idol is the sort of teenager who’s going to enjoy Cabin Pressure.
I’ve had messages from fans in Hong Kong, Honolulu, Moscow and Perth. Some say it’s helped with their fear of flying, which seems odd given that Martin was not a very good pilot and Douglas was not a very reliable one, but I suppose just imagining the two of them in the flight deck rather than faceless droids is reassuring.
You have to be a cruel god when you’re a sitcom writer: you can’t let your characters be happy for too long. You have to either leave them in trouble, or when they get themselves out of it, find them new trouble or it’s not funny. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to finish the show – so I could give them a satisfying ending.
Stephanie Cole
I didn’t know John Finnemore’s work when the first two scripts arrived, but it sprang at me like a glorious ray of sunshine. The writing was so witty and distinctive. I loved the clear idea of each episode being a flight destination and it running A to Z sequentially with 26 episodes, and how simple it was revolving around just the four main characters working for MJN Air.
I played the airline’s CEO, Carolyn Knapp-Shappey. Try saying that quickly several times. I can’t tell you the number of times we had to retake. One of the joys of my character was how strong and feisty she is: she had the upper hand over the men, for the most part. Carolyn told it like it was and took no shit. We’ve all met women like her. She was very easy to put on, and I confess perhaps there’s a little of her bossiness in me. When you play a character in a series she doesn’t always progress so it was wonderful that when Carolyn’s love interest came (in the shape of Anthony Head’s Hercules), she was thrown for a loop, which gave a whole new side to her.
We would have a read-through before recording, but there were many times when we had to stop the recording because we all had the giggles. Very little was ad-libbed or changed. John’s scripts were always well-nigh perfect.
Radio drama takes a bit of getting used to. It doesn’t matter what you do bodily, but you have to be meticulous about the thought behind your lines. You can’t fudge when it’s just your voice being heard.
Getting together to record was relatively simple until Benedict got so well known. By the second series, we were getting the odd person hanging around outside waiting for autographs. By the time we recorded the final episode, it was like a rugby scrum outside. People were coming from America and Lithuania to be in the audience. Benedict didn’t change a jot as his fame grew. We were always just four fellow actors.
• John Finnemore’s Flying Visit tours the UK, 17 May-15 June.
