Steve Coogan

I fucking love Alan Partridge. I often forget that Alan Partridge is a fictional character and that he and Steve Coogan are not two separate people.

I find it hard to pinpoint exactly why Alan tickles me so much. He’s petty, selfish, and ignorant – treats his long-time assistant Lynn terribly – and looks down on others with the politics of a middle-aged middle-Englander and lacks any self-awareness. But, I think there is a childish vulnerability, an insecurity barely beneath the surface show more and enthusiasm to him (“stop getting Bond wrong!“) that just keeps him sympathetic enough to be an enjoyable character. It’s easy to relate to his desire for affirmation and to fit in.

I of course had read this book before! I got it on audiobook when it first came out in 2011. At this time I worked in a quiet university medical library and often would have to close the whole place alone in the evening. While I was doing my rounds, to make sure all the students had gone, and switching off the lights as I went, I accidentally set it playing in my cardigan pocket and scared the shit out of myself! That place was spooky, it had a lot of strange unexplained doors at odd heights.

Now Alan’s third autobiography is out (Big Beacon) I wanted to reread the first two before getting to that one. We also recently rewatched I’m Alan Partridge and Alpha Papa (shout out to Colm “Chief O’Brien” Meaney!). Sadly (stupidly) I got rid of my DVDs of Knowing Me, Knowing You and Mid Morning Matters. We’ve learned the hard way not to reply on streaming platforms to have everything!

Anyway, I, Partridge is everything an Alan fan could want! I really love this one because he covers his entire career to the end of the TV shows, and gives his side of the story which is often quite a different recollection from what we saw… It’s completely written in Alan’s own voice, and it’s just fantastic. It had me howling with laughter. I particularly enjoyed his very deliberate use of literary devices and the need to draw the reader’s attention to them! It was also nice to find out how his relationship with Sonja ended after I’m Alan Partridge (I did enjoy them together – so much I made an embroidery of my favourite line).

I definitely recommend getting the audio of this because it’s read by the man himself. I’ll listen to this again and again and again! show less

Everybody has a comedic touchstone - a stand-up or a sitcom they can go back to time and again and know just how easily it will tickle them and engage fond memories. Steve Coogan and his comic creations have seen me through my adolescence, my uni days, and my working life so far. Alan Partridge is - as for many Coogan fans - my ultimate comfort comedy; the one I can recite backwards. I can still laugh at his frantic and futile attempts to placate enraged farmers despite a thousand previous show more viewings.

Perhaps part of the challenge in appreciating Easily Distracted is in remembering that this is the autobiography of Steve Coogan and not one of his creations. Indeed, after I read it and put it on my bookshelf, my wife asked me to fetch it so she could have a read and - unconsciously - I picked up I, Partridge, instead. I could imagine Steve shaking a mock-angry fist at me for doing so, and at those who claim there is too much similarity between him and his comic characters (and between some of those creations). But this only strengthens a point Coogan tries to get across in telling his story - that there is a bit of Alan Partridge, Paul Calf, Gareth Cheeseman, Duncan Thickett and co in Steven Coogan and vice versa. It's not a secret, it's a fact - one he is happy to acknowledge and embrace. In Easily Distracted, Coogan does not try to paint a whiter-than-white image of himself; rather, he accepts himself for what he is, vices and virtues. He talks of his youthful, idealistic visions of his future self - unflappable, engaging and witty - but acknowledges the man he has become: a man who at times can exhibit all of these qualities and at other times none of them. It's quite a rational and balanced stance and one that is not hard to empathise with; it certainly helped me as a reader to understand a little bit more about the man behind the comic mask.

The book - slightly unconventionally for an autobiography - starts with the here and now, the recent times of the Coogan we think we know: the darkness of the Leveson inquiry, the exhausting realities behind the Partridge movie and his pride at the BAFTA-winning Philomena (an excellent demonstration of his abilities as a straight actor). It then settles into a more typical chronological account of his life, delivered in an enjoyably raconteurial rhetoric: from his sepia-tinted memories of boyhood holidays in Ireland (I challenge any child of the 50s, 60s or 70s to read this without drifting off to memories of their own holidays of this ilk) and life in his somewhat eccentric family home, to his struggles to break into comedy and acting, then on to the stellar rise that followed... and the well-documented baggage that came with it. It's an engaging and fulfilling journey, though I suspect - and respect - that Steve hasn't given us absolutely everything (who would?)

Being such a fan of his comedy, there was a big part of me looking for in-gags in each paragraph, but that's not what this book is about. It does have gags and it did have me chuckling away, But he makes it clear that straight comedy doesn't quite cut it for him any more. That said, there are a few Easter eggs in there, such as page 201 when he refers to that excellent James Bond movie 'To Russia With Love' (To Russia? Stop getting Bond wrong!).

Easily Distracted works well in doing what I think it set out to achieve: presenting Steve Coogan, as he is, without apology. An entertaining, at times gritty and at times warm, and consistently thought-provoking read.

http://www.gordondoherty.co.uk/reviews/easilydistracted-stevecoogan show less

When I joined the BBC in the heady days of the early 2000s, Alan Partridge was still a legendary figure – pacing the corridors of Television Centre in immaculate flannel slacks, and spoken of in the same breath as the other master-interviewers of the modern era: Parkinson, Ross, Christian, Madeley. In many ways, he even influenced the great American talk-programme hosts like Letterman or Leno. Not in a literal sense, obviously, but perhaps in some other sense.

I only met the great man once, show more when I was just a cub reporter, wet behind the ears, and he was gracious enough to try and pass on some of his knowledge. ‘Let me give you a bit of advice,’ he said. ‘If your heart's set on going in there, for goodness sake avoid the second stall on the left – it quite literally looks like a war zone in there. It wasn't me; I only came in for some basic urination. I take care of everything else back home, thanks to a first-class Hinch VX50 chemical toilet, which genuinely would have made light work of that lot. Apart from that time I had some bad ham, it's handled everything I can throw at it so far. I certainly wouldn't expect work facilities to be up to the job. I mean I'm not a monster. I'm Alan Partridge.’ And then he was gone, like some apparition in a double-breasted blazer.

Over the years his star has waned a little. He left the BBC under something of a cloud (note – I'm not talking about personal hygiene, those rumours were put to bed a long time ago), but now, finally, Alan has a chance to give his own side of the story and set the ruddy record straight. It's all here, from the highs of hospital radio (‘In my time at the hospital, I was broadcasting live during the deaths of some 800 patients. It's a record that stands to this day’) to the lows of Toblerone addiction, which saw him gain an alarming amount of weight (‘Like a good-looking John Merrick, mine was a face that looked really shit’). It's also rewarding for the fans to find out previously unknown details, such as the fact that his deal to return to radio was signed in the Symphony Café, Norwich (‘now, at long last, a Nando's’), or to gain a greater appreciation for Alan's love of the Highway Code (‘people forget that it doesn't just save lives, it's also a damn good read’).

Those of us who love him will be hoping he'll be back in our living-rooms soon. (Not in person – that would be time-consuming and borderline inappropriate – but through the medium of televisual broadcasting.) Until then, we'll keep tuning in to hear his ‘award-worthy’ mid-morning broadcasts covering the whole length and breadth of the North Norfolk area.

Essential reading for anyone who wants to discover the Alan behind the Alan, this handsome volume is taking its place on my shelf nestled proudly between Nelson Mandela's A Long Walk to Freedom and Saint Augustine's Confessions. It really is classic autobiography. show less

What can we say about Alan Partridge that hasn't already been said? True, most of it has been said by Partridge himself, but that's by the by. Bestriding the nineties and noughties like a broadcasting behemoth, he has carved what can only be called a career through both Radio and Television, bringing his own special magic to both mediums.

In this book of words and pictures he tells his life story, from his birth to his current berth (see what I did there?) at North Norfolk Digital (Norfolk's show more Best Music Mix). His start at the Our Price instore radio (short-lived), Radio Norwich, his move to the BBC with On The Hour and on to his own chat show, Knowing Me Knowing You (aha!).

Of course there are lows as well as highs. The unfortunate death by shooting of guest Forbes McCallister. The run-ins with BBC Commissioning Editor Tony Hayes and the subsequent Christmas Special fiasco and failure to secure a second series. Then there is his battle with a debilitating Toblerone addiction.

But above all Alan is a fighter and has an unshakeable belief in his own genius. Modesty is not a word in his vocabulary. One thing is certain, there's only one Alan Partridge.

But seriously folks, this is a brilliantly written, extremely funny book. You can almost hear Partridge's voice in your head. Highly recommended. show less