Rik Mayall died suddenly yesterday. He was 56. It's not clear yet what exactly happened. There's talk that he had a seizure of sorts. I think he suffered with epilepsy following a quad bike accident in the 90s. Time will tell.
The news really knocked the stuffing out of me. I'm not alone though. It seems from social media that my entire generation has been rocked back on its heels at the news. His work was absolutely instrumental in making British humour what it is today. He had been selective in his work over the 15 years or so since his accident, which meant he rather slipped off the radar, which made the shock all the worse. Luckily he was precocious and prodigious in his early years and amassed an impressive body of work before he hit 40.
I first encountered him as Kevin Turvey. This was a comic creation so fine that most comics would have based an entire career on him, but Mayall never reprised the character. He was far too restless for that. It's just as well for us he didn't because he went on to create many others: Colin Grigson (Bad News), Richie Richard, Flashheart, Alan B'Stard.
It's strange when someone famous dies. I'm normally immune to the NutraSweet platitudes that people spew up on these occasions. I've lost enough friends and relatives to know what real mourning feels like and it shouldn't be taken lightly. But Rick's passing is very hard to take; I've actually found myself welling-up at the thought that he's gone. It's ridiculous really; I mean he hadn't been on the telly for years. It's just that he was so very important to me, and all my friends, through our formative years. It's almost like losing a school friend that you haven't seen for decades. Yes, he wasn't a part of your current life, but his words and actions informed who you became. A great loss.
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