Book Review: The Kenneth Williams Diaries

What a carry on

 

Remembered for the Carry On films, Kenneth Williams was more than that. An outspoken man, his diaries tell all.

I read the Kenneth Williams Diaries many years ago, and this review is from memory and how I felt about them at the time. As time goes by, memory can often be unreliable, though.

But I remember the reason I read this book. In the 1960s, '70s and '80s, everyone knew about, and probably watched, the Carry On films. Repeated endlessly, especially at Christmas (they still are), it presented the naughty side of British life. Not to everyone's taste, of course, but they were very popular.

I wanted to know what it was like on the set of the Carry On films. They looked like they were having a good time. And they were the films for which he is best known, but in his diaries, Williams is somewhat dismissive of them. He doesn't hold back.

His own view of them was less than complimentary. 

They were bawdy and full of typical British innuendo. Seaside postcard humour on film. He probably saw them as below him, a classically trained actor. They were a job of work, and they didn't always pay that well. In the modern era, where successful actors are often paid millions, the stars of the Carry On films were lucky to be paid a few thousand pounds a film. In the diaries, he makes it clear how he felt about that.

I don't think he liked them, but took the job because even though they didn't pay much, it was acting work and a payday. He also enjoyed working with several actors who regularly appeared alongside him in those films.

Despite its 850-plus pages, the diaries are just a snapshot of Williams' life. He kept a diary for more or less every day of his adult life. The volumes sat there in his home, and after he died, it was Russell Davies who took on the job to condense them down to the book that we get to read.

I did wonder what it would be like to read all of them, though. Davies probably had to go through a lot of mundane, everyday life entries to get to the good bits. There was so much of it; one 850-page book is the tip of the iceberg.

In fact, Williams was prolific when it came to writing about his own life. Not just his diaries, he also wrote several books, including an autobiography, Just Williams, and Acid Drops. He also wrote Back Drops, which featured pages from his diaries — but not the controversial bits. 

In the world of showbiz, his diaries were well known. Many wondered what he had written about them, more so after he died. The diaries are a sort of confession of what he really felt. On the set of the Carry On films, he would occasionally tell someone, "You are going in my diary." Maybe in fun, maybe not.

Did Williams write them knowing that one day they would be made public? No one really knows. Diaries are, by definition, often very personal, meant to be kept secret. The only person who read his diaries while he was alive was Williams himself.

As he got older, the diaries show his insecurities, especially around his health. His sad end, and the mystery of how his life ended (certainly at the time), is there for all to see. He does occasionally write, "What's the point?” It's almost a cry for help, one that he would never say in public. 

The impression from the diaries was that he felt he was capable of achieving more than he did. And his last entries are somewhat sad — unlike a Carry On film.

But I do think it helps to have seen the “public” face of Williams to really appreciate the other side of his character that comes out in his diaries. He could be a difficult man who would sometimes take an instant dislike to someone. And when he appeared on the BBC's Just a Minute radio show, you could hear in his voice that he lost his temper occasionally. 

If you are expecting jolly japes and all fun and games from his diaries, you will be disappointed. They are of the "warts and all" variety. A fantastic read, though, even the mundane bits. It is a book that I am happy to give five stars to. 

And if I live long enough, I might just read it again some time.

Edited and updated, 06 March 2026 (and sometimes my memory reminds me of something worth adding).

Son of My Father Kindle Countdown Deal. (Now expired).

For the next seven days. Son of My Father is available on Amazon for £0.99. (Now expired).

It can be found here.  Son of My Father

Son of My Father - An Extract - “They Think It's All Over, It Is Now...”

                                           

They think it’s all over…it is now. The famous last words remembered from England's 4-2 victory over West Germany at Wembley Stadium.

I was too young to remember that game, but I do have my own personal football memory from the 1960s. It would have been the late 1960s, and I was playing for the school football team on council run pitches.

Not quite 1966 World Cup level, but I played.

From Son of My Father, a further extract.

I played for the school football team, but it almost didn’t happen. We played on a Council run park that was on the outskirts of the city. The facilities were basic at best, and there were three football pitches.

Boys in the school team or close to selection played on the main pitch. The game was usually between two sides picked by the school football captain and the football coach. I was never picked, probably because I wasn’t a mate of the captain, and the coach hadn’t seen me play. I went and played on one of the other pitches. Pitch number three it was called. I played against boys who were not very good. At that level I was pretty good. I seemed to have a knack for scoring and most weeks, against inferior opposition, I would score several goals.

During one game I noticed that the coach was watching from the sidelines. I thought nothing of it until the following week when, as the teams were being picked for the main game, he pointed his finger at me when it was his turn and he said, “come on lad, you are too good for the other game.” Then he said, “Oh, what’s your name…” I told him, and he replied, “right, I’m playing you up front today. Good luck.”

The rest, as the saying goes, is history. Admittedly not that big in the greater scheme of things, but big for me at the time as no one had ever picked me for anything before. I wasn’t in with the right boys that would ever pick me for their sides, whether it was for games or playtime in the school yard.

I must have done something to impress the coach because when the school squad was picked for the first game of the season, I was on the subs bench. The other players on the team looked at me as if to say, who are you?

And so began my school football career. Was it life changing? Not really, but just to get picked I must have done something right. My dad never watched me play football. It never crossed my mind at the time that he wasn’t there. It was years later when it did occur to me.

That’s just the way it was.