When he was a little boy, Barry Humphries’ mother sternly told him not to draw attention to himself.
Her floppy-haired, artistic son loved breaking the rules. But nobody could have guessed that a suburban misfit from Melbourne would go on to hog the global spotlight as superstar Dame Edna Everage and a host of other characters.
The world mourned when Barry – acclaimed comic, actor, scriptwriter, artist, book collector and dandy – died at Sydney’s St Vincent’s Hospital on April 22, aged 89, following a seven-decade career.
Friend and fan King Charles – who was reduced to hysterics when Dame Edna crashed the royal box at a command performance in 2013 – sent the Humphries family a personal letter to convey his sympathies, and called Barry in hospital just hours before he died.
Ricky Gervais hailed Barry a “comedy genius”, while Sir Michael Parkinson said raucous, outrageous, gladdy-chucking Dame Edna was his most popular regular chat show guest.
Prime Minister Anthony Albanese paid tribute to “a great wit, satirist, writer and an absolute one-of-a-kind” who was “both gifted and a gift”.
A comic to the end, Barry even penned a spoof obituary by none other than Dame Edna Everage herself in the days before his death.
A LIFE LESS ORDINARY
John Barry Humphries was born into a comfortable, loving, straitlaced, middle-class Melbourne family on February 17, 1934.
A sport-loathing rebel at Melbourne Grammar School – where he flunked maths but shone at art and English – he always adored costume and disguise.
As a child he dressed up to escape boredom. In later life, he became disgusting diplomat Sir Les Patterson and ghostly ex-serviceman Sandy Stone, among others.
In two years at Melbourne University – he didn’t graduate – Barry’s surreal pranks became legendary. On trams he “beat up” a fake blind passenger. On planes he emptied canned salad into a sick bag, then pretended to vomit and eat it.
Turning to the stage, he found his vocation. In 1955, he invented Edna Everage on a Melbourne Theatre Company tour around country Victoria. The rest is history.
BATTLE WITH BOOZE
Barry moved to London in 1959, where he befriended cutting-edge British comedians, appeared in his first film, 1967’s Bedazzled, wrote mischievous comic strip The Wonderful World of Barry McKenzie and performed in a number of West End shows.
His one-man theatre debut was a resounding flop, but in 1976 he finally cracked the big time with Housewife-Superstar!.
The dame-to-be was on her way to giga-fame, eventually earning her creator and “manager” a CBE and an Order of Australia.
By his own admission, “guilt-ridden, self-pitying boozer” Barry didn’t achieve success until he won his battle with the bottle.
In the early 1970s, arrested after being found unconscious in a gutter, he dried out at a Melbourne hospital and never drank again.
But his first two marriages – he had four in total – fell victim to his alcoholism. He split from wife number one, Brenda Wright, after less than two years.
Wife number two, former dancer Rosalind Tong, lasted 12 years and produced daughters Tessa and Emily, born in 1963 and 1965, respectively.
Sons Oscar and Rupert, born in 1981 and 1982, respectively, resulted from his tumultuous relationship with his third wife, artist Diane Millstead.
Their bitter split – she described him as “an A-grade narcissist” – came after he fell for British actress Lizzie Spender, who remained wife number four for more than 30 years.
MARITAL STRIFE
Barry reckoned his first three marriages failed because he “didn’t know what to do” despite loving all his wives.
“I was very clever in some areas and very stupid in others. But I’ve survived in health and career. I’ve lived a very happy life,” he once remarked.
Barry later revealed that a lot of his struggles were due to his relationship with his mother.
“She was quite impossible to read and I was never quite certain if I was loved,” he tragically revealed, adding, “I’ve been searching for love and security ever since, which I’ve only fairly recently found for the first time with Lizzie.”
Grief-stricken Lizzie and his children were united at Barry’s deathbed.
In a moving statement, the family later said, “He was completely himself until the very end, never losing his brilliant mind, his unique wit and generosity of spirit.”
Fittingly, as comedian Adam Hills pointed out, the fabulous Dame Edna took her final bow, in theatre tradition, on a Saturday night.