Books

From Diego Rivera’s muse to zombie ghoul ―

Michael Holland

Author Richard Heller’s fascinating journey from the US to South America before Bermondsey became home

Richard Heller is a New Yorker but when his father was grassed up to the House of Un-American Activities Committee for his socialist beliefs he moved the family to Mexico just before the subpoena arrived. Heller Snr was CEO of CBS and worked with broadcasting greats such as Edward R. Murrow in the early days of television, so once he had escaped across the border he helped set up Mexican television with the help of Dolores Del Rio, a big star at the time.

Richard was still young but remembers that his next door neighbours in Mexico City were Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera, the country’s celebrated husband and wife artists. “Rivera did a sketch of me playing in the garden and gave it to my father, but it was stolen, so if you ever see a Diego Rivera come on the market, of a child in a garden, it’s me and it’s mine!” He laughed loudly, showing that he didn’t take life too seriously.

In 1954 it was time for the Hellers to move on. America was still not an option but a BBC correspondent told Richard’s father, “commercial TV is just starting in Britain and nobody knows how to run a commercial station, so come over and there will be an opening for you.”

This move was a shock to the six-year-old boy who had been living an affluent lifestyle in South America but now found himself in grey, war-torn London. “I thought we had got poor overnight,” he recalls. “There was bomb damage and rationing and a vast difference to our life in Mexico.”

Being the child of socialists he was sent to a state school, which was not a happy place for Richard, so, against their rigid principles, his parents sent him to Sussex House, a private school.

Aged 18 and still an American citizen when the Vietnam War came along, Richard had to present himself at the US Embassy to register for the draft. Asked if he had any military experience, the teen replied, “I was in the school cadet force and have an Army Proficiency Certificate.” The Americans’ response was to immediately promote Richard to officer rank, which he jokes about now. “So this boy with a thick British accent would take charge of an enraged platoon and give motivating speeches like, “Okay, Chaps, we can win this bloody war”. They’d have killed me quicker than the Vietcong!”

Richard decided it was time to become a British citizen as England was where his life was, and the Hellers only returned to the US to visit relatives. Thinking of those trips took Richard back, he says “My rich Aunt Joan nearly became Scarlet O’Hara but instead became famous for playing Lois Lane in the radio version of Superman, and then a regular on the panel show The Name’s The Same.”

I sensed that Richard was happier talking about his relations than himself, and as fascinating as it was to hear tales of an uncle introducing the VW Beetle to the States, and his father bringing Dave Allen to a British TV audience, I needed him back on track.

After school he went to Oxford to study Politics, Philosophy and Economics though only remembers winging the academic work at Balliol College while writing the Christmas panto. “You really didn’t have to work that hard,” he reveals. “Which was Boris Johnson’s secret, too,” he adds with a glint in his eye as he tries to steer the conversation away from him and on to one of his pet hates. “And I’m pretty much still writing the Balliol Pantomime 60 years later,” he laughs.

Ten years in the Civil Service led to Richard becoming chief of staff to Denis Healey where he tells a tale of almost managing to make Tony Benn the party leader. “I was just one week away from changing history!”

Deciding politics was not for him, Richard had hopes of being a writer so took off with a handful of film scripts to make his fortune in Hollywood. Alas, his only paid work there was on Cycle Sluts Versus The Zombie Ghouls. Richard was sacked for suggesting one of the flesh-eating zombies could be vegetarian: “You have not respected the artistic integrity of Cycle Sluts,” yelled the producer with not an iota of irony.

Back in England he worked on Gerald Kaufman’s team (then Shadow Home Secretary), but was again dismissed for writing an article in the Times attacking Labour’s defense policy. This career faux pas, however, led to several newspapers offering Richard work, and he accepted the Mail on Sunday’s offer “because they were paying more money.” I began to question Richard’s socialism but he assured me that the MoS was a different paper in those days, before revealing his role in trying to oust Thatcher!

And while all this bringing down of governments was going on, Richard lived in South London and eventually ended up in a former Victorian school in Bermondsey that he calls home. It is where he continues to post tweets and write books.

His latest, The Prisoner of Rubato Towers, documents his lockdown experience. He kindly signed a copy for me and the praise on the back cover was more than impressive: ‘There is nothing to match this in world literature,’ ‘Richard Heller is the Raffles of comic literature, the elegant burglar of wit and fantasy.’

I have read the book and it does what it says on the cover.

The Prisoner of Rubato Towers is published by Xerus Publishing and available at: www.richardheller.co.uk