Sarah Solemani on Channel 4's Chivalry, the MeToo movement and childcare on set
Radio Times magazine caught up with Sarah Solemani about the new Channel 4 comedy set in post-MeToo Hollywood.
This interview was originally published in Radio Times magazine.
By the time the MeToo movement swept Hollywood in 2018, it was a subject I’d already spent some time reflecting on. I’d moved to LA in 2016 to join the writers’ room for a show called Barry on HBO and during that process its creator and star, Bill Hader, needed me to dig deep on any unsavoury experiences as an actress. Well…
It was the first time that someone in the industry – and a man, no less – had asked me, so I talked very openly. Bill was shocked, and I realised I had normalised some shady behaviour. Like a lot of women, I had trivialised my experiences and turned them into funny anecdotes, perhaps even worn them as a badge of honour because I’d managed to navigate and dodge them (though not all of them), which is exactly what women all over the world were confronted with in the wake of MeToo.
We wrote an episode of Barry around that abuse of power. It aired in 2018 as the MeToo movement took hold and it looked like the show had been really prophetic. It won lots of awards.
It was a powerful moment to be in Hollywood and witness up close this incredible outpouring – a collective confession from women trying to reconcile incidents in their lives and demanding change – which resulted in an accelerated shift in culture happen right before our eyes.
That same year I was on the set of the Michael Winterbottom film Greed, where Steve Coogan was the lead, and we talked about the subject. It felt like a lot of men were keeping their heads down and hoping the uproar would fade, but Steve, who I’ve known since we worked on another Winterbottom film, The Look of Love, would play devil’s advocate, and we would get into heated debates and make each other laugh. He was brave enough to take the gloves off and spar with me.
It struck both of us that what we needed to see, and what we could contribute, was a space where we could satirise how men and women are supposed to interact in this new climate. And that is how Chivalry was born.
Steve plays Cameron O’Neill, an old-school, very experienced film producer, who’s having trouble with a film because it doesn’t pass the MeToo test, so he’s forced to hire my character, Bobby Sohrabi, a “feminist” film-maker, to make it palatable in the new climate.
I love writing with Steve. It’s been one of the most successful collaborations of my career. He brings a lot to the table. Sadly not a pen or a laptop, but lots of very colourful anecdotes and killer lines.
In terms of process, Steve doesn’t touch a key. He paces around the room and monologues at me and then muggins here does the writing. I’m a bit controlling in how I want things laid out and structured, though, and I like being king on what makes it to the final scripts, so his laziness and my possessiveness are a match made in TV heaven.
Normally in comedies there’s the “straight guy”; one person feeds the lines and the other person gets to bash about saying outrageous things. That wouldn’t cut it in our show. I couldn’t be the one rolling my eyes and saying, “You silly old sexist, you can’t go around saying that any more!” We both had to be on equal footing, like the screwball comedies of the 1930s and 40s, all razor-sharp dialogue and biting female ripostes. That took a lot of wrangling during the writing process, because Steve’s very good at making jokes for himself…
It was a tightrope to walk the whole time: we wanted it to be very funny because by laughing, you can begin to heal. But we didn’t want to undermine the essence of the movement, which was a confession of pain and trauma that was real and lived. Both mattered to us.
By entering your details, you are agreeing to our terms and conditions and privacy policy. You can unsubscribe at any time.
We confront the fear people have about MeToo that they aren’t too keen to go public on, voiced by Catherine Deneuve in a letter that basically called MeToo “the death of sex” – the fear that all the fun and joyous chemistry between the sexes was in danger of being eternally policed, killing flirting, pleasure and sexiness for ever. But in Chivalry Bobby makes the argument that proper connections and becoming more conscious on consent and boundaries can actually lead to more sex, better sex. It doesn’t always have to be something that men seek, women protect, men take and women give. It’s more complicated than that. More sexy, even. Bobby talks about vaginas a lot. Cameron doesn’t like it so much.
The industry has undoubtedly changed a lot since I started out through the National Youth Theatre. I was always interested in acting.
I remember my dad taking me to a production of The Wizard of Oz when I was six, and I wasn’t convinced by the actor playing Dorothy. I remember thinking, “She’s overdoing it”.
My dad is a massive film buff, so I grew up with him telling me about the magic of Hollywood. Billy Wilder is one of my dad’s favourite film-makers, and my son’s name is Samuel Wilder, which is Wilder’s real name.
After a lot of theatre roles, I was in the BBC sitcom Him & Her with Russell Tovey, which was a bit of a turning point for me, and after that I had parts in films like Bridget Jones’s Baby. But I always wrote. For years it was just plays above pubs or new writing nights at the Old Vic, the Royal Court and the National. Most of the time, it’s just hard work and frustration because you’re searching for that cosmic moment where you have an audience in the palm of your hand, and they’re laughing and they’re moved exactly when you want them to be. It’s addictive, and it’s magic. It’s the closest I’ll ever get to being a songwriter, which I think is the highest art form in the world. Occasionally you feel like a composer, with all the parts singing the way you intended.
There’s always the reality that certain jokes or themes can be problematic. You have to accept that if you go into certain areas, you’re going to have a target on your back. That’s part of being brave and not writing safe material. Steve and I were aligned in that if it felt on the edge, then we should lean into that rather than pull away from it.
Chivalry is supposed to be entertaining, and I hope people laugh, without feeling preached at or guilty or isolated. But if audiences end up having a conversation about consent or gender disparity, then that’s a bonus.
Another significant factor I am campaigning for is childcare – we need sets to feel safe and productive for everybody concerned. Actors Charlotte Riley and Tom Hardy (who have two children together) created the Wonderworks, a nursery in Leavesden in Hertfordshire, near the Warner Bros studios. I’m campaigning for Pinewood to do the same. I’d have loved to bring my kids onto the Chivalry set when we were shooting there. I needed childcare and I didn’t have it. They have a big contract with Disney now and should sign up to Wonderworks. Come on Pinewood!
It’s an extra burden for actors and crews. We’re losing lots of talented people because of childcare issues, yet it’s an easy fix. Hollyoaks has an on-set nursery every day. Why don’t we have that everywhere? That would probably be the biggest shift in gender equality.
When I wrote the BBC drama Ridley Road, about the rise of antisemitism in the 1960s [shown last October], I read everyone’s comments on Twitter, and it blew me away. The response was overwhelming. Most people had no idea that there was this fascist presence here in 1962. So many were affected by the story and said they cried at the end. If you can entertain while informing audiences, well, that’s why I do it: I’m living for that.
Chivalry starts on Channel 4 on Thursday 21st April with a double bill at 10pm and 10.30pm. Take a look at what is on tonight with our TV Guide or visit our Drama hub for all the latest news and features.
The latest issue of Radio Times is on sale now – subscribe now to get each issue delivered to your door. For more from the biggest stars in TV, listen to the Radio Times podcast with Jane Garvey.