Luckier Than Most: An Autobiography by David Tomlinson

I have to admit that when I saw Dean Street Press were republishing David Tomlinson’s autobiography, Luckier Than Most, I didn’t immediately place the actor. Once I learned David Tomlinson played the father, Mr. Banks, in the 1964 film of Mary Poppins, my interest was peaked. But when I realised he was also in The Love Bug (1969) and Bedknobs and Broomsticks (1971), two of my other favourite films from when I was a little girl, I knew had to pick this one up. Am I ever happy I did! 

While I don’t think I’ve ever written a review for an autobiography, I do love them. I especially enjoy reading about the lives of my favourite writers. I’ve read more than my fair share of biographies about Sylvia Plath and Virginia Woolf, but I will always want to read another one. Next in line for favourite lives to read about has to be dancers and actors. As someone who has spent more than half their life in and around the theatre, I find a certain comfort in reading about theatre people. It’s a little like meeting up with old friends. There is going to be drama—because of course there is—but there is also going to be friendships formed as everyone works towards a common goal, putting on the best show possible or getting that movie made. The thing that I find really fascinating is not all of the shop talk, but the intimate details of a person’s life. How do people who are successful in their careers balance it with their personal life, or do they?

I feel like I should explain one thing before we go on. I went back and forth on whether to refer to David Tomlinson by his first or last name in this review. Typically, I refer to writers by their last name, but because I mention other members of the Tomlinson family in this review, I thought it might be simpler to just use the writer’s first name in this case. I hope this liberty of familiarity does not offend anyone.

While David does not present himself as a person who brings the drama—off stage, that is—he did have a complex family life, especially in his formative years. The preface, written by David’s son, James Tomlinson, made me tear up. Craig Brown’s introduction made me gasp audibly, twice. The first chapter opens with the teaser, “In which I am born into a family steeped in mystery . . . “. Then it continues: 

Some years ago my brother Peter was on his way to Heathrow on an airport bus. It was, I supposed, pure chance that the traffic stopped at Chiswick. Glancing sideways Peter was astonished to see our father sitting up in a strange bed, in a strange house, drinking a cup of tea. 

David’s father lived Friday night to Monday morning in Folkestone with his family and spent the week in London where he worked as a solicitor and lived at his club, or so he said. They were not often able to contact him there, so they had their doubts, but Peter’s discovery sets David on “the trail of the truth”, as he puts it. I’m tempted to explain more, but I’d rather you read it for yourself. We quickly realise David Tomlinson lived a fascinating life, and it wasn’t always fascinating in a good way. If this was fiction, one would say it was too unbelievable. 

Once you get beyond the first chapter, the rest of Luckier Than Most is less of a rollercoaster, and I have to say that I’m glad of that. I didn’t want to read about a bunch of unpleasant things happening to someone. That isn’t to say that this book is boring or that David does not suffer hardships throughout his life, but the ups and downs are distributed throughout the narrative. There are good things happening alongside the bad.

David served in World War II, while in Canada he had leave to visit New York. While there he fell in love with Mary Lindsay Hiddingh, and after a whirlwind romance, the couple got married. He was soon shipped back to the UK, and while he was struggling to get permission from the government for Mary to join him, she died in tragic circumstances. The couple were together mere months. I will leave it to David to tell you the details. Although, I will mention that if you read the preface and introduction first, like I did, you will find out some of this information before hand.

One of the things that really stood out to me is how much and how hard David Tomlinson worked. At times he was on a movie set at Pinewood Studios during the day and then in the evening he would be onstage in a play. After doing a double shift he would then commute to his cottage in the little village of Mursley in Buckinghamshire.

About this time I decided that what I really wanted was a country retreat . . . a little cottage away from the hurly-burly of London. I was playing every night and sometimes filming in the day but still there were Sundays when a bit of a garden and greenery would be welcome as well as a bit more space form my growing collection of period furniture and paintings. 

David stared in eight films that released in 1948! The thing that gets me is that he doesn’t tell the reader in a boastful way, like, “look at how in demand I was” or “look at how hard I worked”. He just informs us because he is imparting information about his life. Perhaps a more suitable title for this book would have been Humbler Than Most. Of course, the catch is if he had called his autobiography that, he wouldn’t have been. 

My nest-building instincts were now channelled into the cottage at Mursley. There was plenty of scope for improvement. In fact, even now, some thirty-five years later, I’m still working on it.

I was filming at Pinewood on Made in Heaven when I saw the most fetching young redhead. (Later I was to learn it wasn’t red, it was titian.) She had come down to see the director of the film on which I was working. Her name, I quickly discovered, was Audrey Freeman, and I thought she was dazzlingly pretty. 

She was at the time a principal dancer in Zip Goes a Million with four cameo roles and several dance numbers opening the first and second half of the show with spectacular effect. She had been trained as a dancer since her childhood.

 

He describes their life of him cooking for her in his one room pied-a-terre in Chelsea, while they both were busy with their respective careers.

I was lucky enough to marry Audrey on May 17th, 1953 at Ealing Register Office. It was ten days after my thirty-sixth birthday. Audrey was just twenty-one.

“I shan’t give up my career,” she told me.

“Quite right,” I agreed. “I need the money.”

As you can see, David’s wit comes through in his writing. The couple went on to have four sons. Their third son, William, or Willie as David refers to him, was diagnosed as autistic when medical professionals knew little about the neurological and developmental disorder. This passage broke my heart and I have to say made me feel angry for William and his family.

One consultant, after examining Willie, said the best thing we could do was put him away in a home and forget about him.

“He’s a write-off,” we were told perfunctorily. It is difficult to believe it now but that is what he said. We couldn’t accept that diagnosis.

Thankfully, they found Sybil Elgar, who had started a small school in her home for children with autism. Under her care, William blossomed to his potential. The information about autism in this book is predictably dated—this book was originally published in 1990, and a lot of new findings have come to light since then and research continues to be done. But, of course, this does not in any way diminish the Tomlinson family’s personal experiences. 

I’ve mainly talked about David’s private life in this review, but he shares plenty of anecdotes from his career, including working with many famous names. My personal favourite was his first impression of Laurence Olivier, and how something Oliver said to David years later when they were working together provided some context to explain what looked like very odd behaviour on the part of Olivier.

It feels a callous to critique how someone chooses to record their life, but I think it would be remise of me not to say that I found the ending of this book to be a bit abrupt. Perhaps that is why it came across as a bit trite. David basically wraps up his autobiography in a page with the reflection that despite all of the complications in his life, he has been “luckier than most”. I’m not sure if this brief summing up reflects his humility. He has given us the facts after all, and reflecting on a life that is still being lived is difficult. I expect that is especially true if the life you are attempting to turn into a narrative arc is your own. I don’t know that I could do it. Thank heavens no one is likely to ask it of me!

I would have liked this book to be longer. This edition is only 190 pages and I think another 100 pages would have allowed for more details, descriptions, scene setting, and perhaps a little more introspection. But overall, I found this to be a moving and entertaining book, much like David Tomlinson’s performances. 

This book comes out tomorrow, Monday 3 March 2025. Thank you to Dean Street Press Ltd. for kindly sending me a copy of Luckier Than Most for review. As always, all opinions on the book are my own.

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