I interviewed Russell Brand in mid-October. Afterwards I trotted home thinking, “That was good fun: entertaining, a bit bizarre, a stimulating way to spend an hour.” A few days later, the row about Andrew Sachs blew up. Within a week, Russell had resigned from Radio 2, as had the station’s head, Lesley Douglas, Jonathan Ross had been suspended, and the BBC was dissolving — yet again — into hopeless self-flagellation. And my cozy chat with Russell about his new book and DVD seemed as relevant as rabies.
Now Russell has fled to Los Angeles; over there for a couple of film roles and to record a stand-up show. He isn’t giving interviews, but he calls me from his hotel to explain himself, sounding understandably quieter than when we first talked. “I don’t want to appear in any way cavalier,” he says, which is funny coming from someone with his hairdo.
So, what happened?
“Well, it wasn’t that we went: ‘Let’s ring Andrew Sachs and boast about having sex with his granddaughter,’” he says. “It was: ‘Oh, he’s not there, let’s just leave a message’ and then: ‘Oh, look what we’ve done now.’ There was no malicious intent — it was like an evolving, rolling thing. If you listen, I say sorry more than I say anything offensive — the message is mostly an apology. In fact, it’s the acknowledgment of how wrong it was that is the source of the comedy. What’s difficult is that it was completely devoid of malice, and there’s been a retrospective application of cruelty and intention to cause offense.”
Russell spoke about the sequence of events that led to the prerecorded show being edited but still being broadcast, saying it was his responsibility. “I don’t think this is a situation where I’d go: ‘Oh my god, why didn’t you protect me from myself, Nic Philps [his producer]?’” He acknowledged that big egos like his and Ross’s can be hard to keep under control and that part of the fuss was because Ross earns so much money. He expressed regret over Douglas and Sachs (though he said nothing about Georgina Baillie, Sachs’ granddaughter). What he wouldn’t take responsibility for was the furor.
“I think what I do appeals to lots of people, younger and older, and certainly what it is, is unrestrained, unbridled and authentic. And on this occasion it offended Andrew Sachs and I feel bad about that and he’s accepted my apology. But how that has been subsequently conveyed, which is as a vindictive act, then I didn’t do the vindictive act. I did the daft thing, and that I take responsibility for. How it’s been repackaged ... I’m not at all responsible for that.”
Will you change because of this?
“I can’t let it change what I do. If you’re asking me to inhibit what is spontaneous and good about my performance, then I can’t do that. I don’t think anyone who loves what I do, who will have listened to the actual thing and not complained ... I don’t think they’ll be affected by it. And then the people who don’t like me will just think: ‘Well, this is what we expected.’ So despite how huge the fuss is, essentially it’s meaningless.”
I wonder. Meaningless, probably, for Russell. He has plenty of other projects on the go: including movies (with Judd Apatow and Oliver Stone), his Guardian newspaper football columns, now collected into a book, and his Channel 4 Ponderland show. In February, Comedy Central will screen an hour of his stand-up, to coincide with the US launch of his autobiography. Russell’s immediate plan is to conquer America — and not having a BBC radio program won’t hinder that.



