Toyah's
Triumph Of The Will Toyah
Willcox, whose career as an actress moves up
another notch this Sunday when she appears in a
TV adaptation of 'The Ebony Tower' with Lord
Olivier, has got where she is by extraordinary
willpower, which even overcame a physical
deformity in childhood.
Her hair is
the real giveaway. Suddenly the colour is
straight Monroe rather than marmalade. Toyah
Willcox, the young singer and actress once called
'the priestess of punk', has just dyed her famous
flamethrower orange locks a fairly restrained
shade of blonde. It is one sure sign she is going
straight. Punk looks like being a thing of the
past.
Even though
she will still have her red hair when she stars
opposite Lord Olivier in Granada Television's
version of John Fowle's short story 'The Ebony
Tower' on ITV next Sunday, it rather conceals the
truth about her now.
'Being
blonde is more enigmatic, it gives you a sense of
charisma,' she says. It may also make you look
more like a star.
For, as she
puts it herself, 'The girl I play in "The
Ebony Tower" may be called The Freak , and
she may even look like a freak, but deep down she
is the sanest person in the story.' Very much the
same could be said for Miss Willcox.
No matter
how bizarre or outrageous a face she has
presented to the world since she first emerged in
1977, at the age of 18, she has always held
surprisingly conventional views. She neither
drinks nor smokes, does not take drugs, and
disapproves of promiscuity. Toyah Willcox may
have ridden the crest of the wave of punk
rebellion, but she has never been taken in by the
more destructive elements of its nihilism.
She was
even apprehensive about appearing nude in a scene
with Olivier in the 90-minute television play.
'You see I have this very immature attitude to
nudity and sex,' she explains softly, a
distinctive though slight lisp in her voice. 'I
think it should be kept for just one man.' She
has had only two serious boyfriends, and insists
she did not discover sex until she was 20.
'So when I
did the picnic scene I kept thinking "This
is me naked, not The Freak naked", and I had
this awful image of people stopping their videos
to look at me. But I wanted to work with Laurence
Olivier so badly that I thought that should come
first.' It is not exactly the remark most people
would associate with a member of punk's
aristocracy.
But this
4ft 11in tall Birmingham born girl, whose real
name actually is Toyah Pepita Willcox, has always
defied classification. She declines to fit into
the stereotypes. She may have struggled up
through the raunchy world of one night gigs in
small rock clubs, but she says, 'Some men used to
think that just because I was in a rock band and
wore sexually attractive clothes, I was
available. I wasn't.' It led to her being
nicknamed Miss Prim by some in the music
business.
Toyah
Willcox did not mind that in the least. It meant
someone was taking notice, and she has always
taken her career very seriously indeed. 'It's my
religion,' she says. 'It keeps me sane.'
It is a
single-mindedness which also led her to establish
a seperate career as an actress alongside her
rock singing. So in the past six years she has
not only released six LPs and had a series of Top
Five singles in Britain - her records bring a
turnover of more than £1m a year - but she also
has appeared in films, including The Corn Is
Green with Katherine Hepburn; starred in
Clare Luckham's stage comedy Trafford Tanzi
as the female wrestler; and made many excursions
into television, including the BBC2 series Dear
Heart. As a result she has not only been
voted Top Female Vocalist for her records, but
also Most Promising Newcomer for her
acting.
Brisk and
businesslike, she says, 'Keeping two audiences
means I can be a different person for each one.
The audience for my acting wouldn't dream of
buying my records, and the rock audience only
watches me act because they can't see me on
tour.' She does not like to leave things to
chance.
Nevertheless
she has begun to realise, as the playwright John
Mortimer puts it 'that she can't stay trapped in
a glaring hair-do'. He believes she has to
'provide for her future by acting' and calls her
talent 'phenomenal' in 'The Ebony Tower', which
he adapted for Granada Television, just as he did
for Evelyn Waugh's Brideshead Revisited.
Toyah
Willcox's achievements are all the more
remarkable, however, when you realise that she
was born with a deformity which meant she spent
her childhood 'walking almost doubled up, with my
bum sticking out the back'. She was forced to
wear a two-inch built-up shoe on her left
foot.
'All I
wanted in the world was to walk normally,' she
recalls.
So for the
first 11 years of her life she was sent to
hospital every six months for agonising traction.
But the deformity and its treatment fostered the
indomitable fighting spirit that has driven her
career ever since.
Born in May
1958, the youngest daughter of the owner of three
prosperous joinery businesses, she fought the
world, and her family. 'I wanted to be the centre
of attention, and to be that I had to fight my
elder brother and sister all the time. I can even
remember pushing my mum into the pantry one day
and locking the door when I was nine. And I
wouldn't kiss and make up. I stopped kissing my
mum and dad when I was seven, and I haven't
kissed them since'.
By the age
of 11 she was refusing to wear the built-up shoe,
and to go to hospital, and she was forcing
herself to walk normally. Although she still
admits, 'When I see myself on screen now all I
see is this thing which limps and lisps, and I
cringe, I really cringe.'
With some
of her father's carefree characteristics - 'he
could go out for a paper and not come back for
two days' - at 14 she had started drinking
('nicked sherry') and going round with a group of
bikers. By 18 she had left her Church of England
School for Girls in Birmingham with just one O
level, in music. 'I would have slit my mother's
throat to get what I wanted then,' she says, 'and
I would have slit other people's too'.
She got a
place at Birmingham Old Rep Drama School -
'although I didn't realise being in a play was a
chance with harmony with other actors, I thought
it was just a chance for Toyah to show off.' Two
months later she was offered a part in the
television play Glitter opposite Noel
Edmonds, after the director had spotted her in
the street. On the strength of her performance
she was invited to join the National Theatre in
London, to play Emma in Tales From The Vienna
Woods in 1977. She never went back to drama
school.
'The
National was my training,' she says confidently.
'You can't learn other than by experience. You
can be taught technique but the magic of the work
has to come from you.'
The
National also lead to her first film, Derek
Jarman's Jubilee, and allowed her to form
her first professional rock band, Toyah, which
one critic memorably described as 'heavy metal
without the moustache' . Precocious and well
organised, she was unstoppable. For the next six
years she could do nothing wrong. Not only did
'everybody want a punk girl in their plays', in
the words of one producer, but her recording
career went from strength to strength.
In 1984 she
called a temporary halt to both careers, and
decided to concentrate on acting, making two
television films - Murder, The Ultimate
Grounds For Divorce with Roger Daltrey, and Movie
Queen with Annie Ross - both of which are to
be shown shortly. She had taken the typically
self-concious decision to step back from rock
music. 'I was worried that I'd had too much
exposure and that a backlash might start against
me.' She plans to launch herself back into rock
and roll next year with four singles and an album
recorded for CBS.
The
comparative inactivity has done nothing to still
the demons that have patently always pursued her.
'You see, the only way I can communicate with
people is through performing. I don't give very
easily in personal relationships, and in social
relationships I'm hopeless. I just get bored very
very easily.'
She is
unfailingly honest and direct and admits:
'Anybody in this business really wants to rule
the world. I want my name on every tongue.'
Then she
pauses, and goes on, 'Giving people that kind of
pleasure is wanting to be loved.'
So Toyah
Willcox can explain her gradual trip away from
the extremes of punk with characteristic
matter-of-factness. 'To me punk was about freedom
of opinion,' she says, 'not being stuck in other
people's worlds, with other people's ideas. But I
think you've got to fit in with the society you
live in. I didn't choose to live in England, I
was just born here, but I've decided to fit in
with it. If I went around saying, "destroy
this" or "destroy that", I'd be
intimidating people.'
She has
settled into a comfortable London house, complete
with its own gym - 'I'm worried that one day I'm
going to be stricken with arthritis' - and has
given up smoking and drinking: 'They're just
excuses for not having willpower and
concentration.' Three years ago she explains, the
strain of her career was making her want to drink
all the time. She has also become a vegetarian.
'I also don't believe in any form of execution
now, or any form of murder, and I don't believe
in killing animals.'
For the
past four years she has lived with her boyfriend,
Tom, who also acts as her bodyguard - 'I've never
been unfaithful' - but she is not contemplating
getting married or having children. 'I actually
have a phobia about having children, I just
couldn't go through all that agony.'
Then she
adds; 'But if a woman hasn't had children then
her sexual drive comes first, and I think that's
very destructive. I spend my sexual energy on
stage.' The words are so measured, so controlled,
they are almost eerie, as if she sees herself as
a performing puppet.
Yet beneath
the careful, self possessed phrases, a chirpy,
cheerful young woman is trying to get out.
Tempting though it may have been to see Miss
Willcox as no more than the 'neurotic golliwog
from the wilder end of the Kings Road' that John
Fowles described in his story, she is not, and
never has been, a freak. Under all that hair, of
whatever colour, there is a conventional and
ambitious brain. Punk was never exactly what it
seemed.
Geoffrey
Wansell.
Outlook
Magazine
December 1984
Thanks to Paul Lomas
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