Paul Henry, aka Benny off Crossroads, treats us to a vinyl monologue
Label: Pye
Year of Release: 1977
If a North American wanted me to give them an unequivocal example of the cultural differences between our societies, I've sometimes wondered if some video clips of Benny from the soap opera "Crossroads" would do the job. While I've no doubt that Americans have had close equivalents to Benny in both TV and film, it's rare for the innocent idiot of any soap to capture the American public's imagination to such a degree.
And capture our hearts Benny did. True, the character weaved his way into the popular lexicon in ways which weren't always positive - being called a "Benny" at school was far from a compliment, for example - but there was also a sense that he was held close to the pinnies of most of Crossroad's mature female audience, his harmless boyishness resulting in huge public affection.
Paul Henry, who took on the role, obviously spent a lot of time considering how the character should be played, but his guiding principle remained straightforward. Benny, he once claimed, was someone so breathtakingly stupid that if somebody walked into a room claiming that it was "raining cats and dogs outside", he would assume that canines and felines were literally being dropped from the sky. Ignorant of metaphors, similes, irony, duality of meaning or even a life beyond that of being a simple handyman, he was an innocent abroad with woolly hair, puppy eyes, a bobble hat and some simple needs and dreams.
This being soapland, Benny had his fair share of disappointments and tears, of course, and this record gave him a chance to air his doubts and miseries simply and sweetly while Simon May weaved a tear-jerking orchestral tapestry behind. Inexplicably, the track wipes the syrup off the table halfway through and suddenly develops a more optimistic discofied edge, before jerking straight back into keening strings and misery again without explaining why. Henry does his best with the material available, sounding like nothing so much as a distressed abandoned Labradoodle if it could talk.
It is, of course, remarkably bad. I try to see the good in just about any record I upload, but there's no disguising the fact that this record was just a horrible misconceived idea - but one that's so out-of-whack with any other novelty pop hits or trends that it's miraculous it found its way out. It even sold in reasonable enough quantities to slip into the Top 40 at number 39, such was Benny's ubiquity at the time.