My Critique of George Cole
George Cole’s defining skill was the sly transactionalism he brought to roles like Arthur Daley, a character who felt less like a caricature and more like a finely observed ecosystem of self-interest. This mastery of the charming rogue set him apart from contemporaries, but it also constrained him, frequently anchoring him to supporting players and a single, irresistible archetype.
A darker counterpoint exists in how his persona risked overshadowing his considerable dramatic range, demonstrated earlier alongside Alastair Sim. For a modern viewer, his work remains a masterclass in charisma; it matters because it captures a uniquely British, class-inflected wit that is rarely staged so effortlessly today.
Early Life
George Edward Cole entered the world on April 22, 1925, in Tooting, London. His story began with a profound twist of fate; at just ten days old, he was adopted by George and Florence Cole, a council worker and a cleaner.
This early chapter instilled in him a resilience and an outsider’s perspective that would subtly inform his character work for decades.
His education at Morden Secondary School was brief, ending at fourteen when he began work as a butcher’s boy. The theatrical world, however, had other plans.
A chance encounter at fifteen led to his film debut in the wartime thriller ‘Cottage to Let’ (1941). This serendipitous start was interrupted by national service, with Cole serving in the Royal Air Force from 1943 to 1947.
Upon his return, his life took another fortuitous turn. He was taken under the wing of the formidable character actor Alastair Sim, who welcomed Cole and his mother into his home.
Sim became a mentor, rigorously coaching the young actor, famously helping him refine his broad Cockney accent. This tutelage was the finishing school that prepared George Cole for a distinguished career.
Early Career & First Roles
The post-war years saw Cole building his craft with remarkable versatility across ten films. He moved effortlessly from drama, like the RAF film ‘Journey Together’ (1943), to sophisticated thrillers such as ‘The Spider and the Fly’ (1949).
His collaboration with Alastair Sim reached a creative peak in ‘Scrooge’ (1951), where Cole delivered a poignant and deeply felt performance as the young Ebenezer.
It was comedy, however, that provided his first iconic character. As the spivvy, trench-coated wide boy ‘Flash Harry’ in the ‘St Trinian’s’ films, beginning with ‘The Belles of St Trinian’s’ (1954), Cole created a masterpiece of comic timing and charming roguery.
This role cemented his reputation as an actor who could find both the humour and the humanity in morally ambiguous characters.
Major Roles
George Cole’s career is a tapestry of memorable performances, but two roles stand as pillars defining different eras of his work. One is a classic of British cinematic comedy; the other is a seminal, era-defining figure in British television drama.
Arthur Daley – Minder (1979–1994)
To discuss British television crime drama of the 1980s is to speak of Arthur Daley. For fifteen years, George Cole embodied this character so completely that the actor and the role became inseparable in the public consciousness.
Arthur was not a gangster, but a “businessman” operating in the grey markets of London—a purveyor of “merchandise of a varied nature” and “a nice little earner.”
Cole’s masterful performance was a study in delightful contradiction. Arthur was a figure of boundless, wheedling optimism, forever on the verge of the big score, yet perpetually undone by his own cheapness and catastrophic misjudgments.
He wore a camel-hair coat and a trilby like a uniform of aspirational respectability, but his shifty eyes and fast-talking patter betrayed the eternal chancer beneath.
The genius of the portrayal lay in its humanity. Despite his endless scheming and exploitation of his long-suffering “minder,” Terry McCann (Dennis Waterman), Arthur was never a villain.
Cole infused him with a vulnerable, almost childlike need for approval and a deep-seated fear of failure. You laughed at his audacity, groaned at his folly, and occasionally felt a pang of sympathy for his defeats.
Arthur Daley’s lexicon entered the culture. His euphemisms for dodgy deals, his constant references to his unseen wife “‘Er Indoors,” and his immortal sign-off—”Look after the pennies, and the pounds will look after themselves”—became part of the national dialogue.
Cole commanded the screen with a physicality of nervous energy, from the hunched shoulders and rapid glances of a man expecting a tap on the shoulder, to the expansive, confident gestures of a man who believes he’s just closed the deal of a lifetime.
This was not just a great comic performance; it was a profound piece of social observation. Arthur Daley was a product of Thatcher’s Britain, a survivor navigating a changing world with guile and graft.
George Cole’s peerless, nuanced work made Arthur Daley one of the most compelling, complex, and beloved characters ever created for British television, a true icon of the genre.
Flash Harry – The Belles of St. Trinian’s (1954)
Long before Arthur Daley was flogging suspect video recorders, George Cole perfected the art of the loveable rogue as Flash Harry. In the anarchic world of the St Trinian’s films, where schoolgirls ran gambling rings and chemistry experiments doubled as distillery projects, Flash Harry was the essential external catalyst—the spiv.
With his pencil moustache, loud check suit, and permanently slouched posture, Cole created an instantly recognisable silhouette. Flash Harry was the school’s unofficial, and deeply untrustworthy, supplier and fixer.
He operated from the shadows of the railway arch, dealing in black-market nylons, tip-offs, and any scheme that turned a quick profit. His interactions with Alastair Sim’s dual role as headmistress Miss Fritton and her bookie brother were comic gold.
Cole’s performance was a masterclass in sly, understated comedy. He delivered his lines with a rapid, confidential mutter, as if every transaction was a state secret.
His body language—a combination of ingratiating smiles and ready-to-run tension—perfectly captured the essence of a man living on his wits. Flash Harry had no grand ambitions; he was simply a creature of the immediate opportunity, and Cole played him with such infectious charm that his utter lack of scruples became his most endearing quality.
This role showcased Cole’s impeccable timing and his unique ability to make duplicity funny and oddly honourable in its own way. Flash Harry established a blueprint for the charming chancer that George Cole would later refine and deepen into the legendary Arthur Daley, proving his rare gift for finding the heart within the hustle.
Other Notable Work
Cole’s versatility shone across mediums. On radio and early TV, he starred as the hapless David Bliss in ‘A Life of Bliss’.
In the BBC’s brilliant adaptation of Tom Sharpe’s ‘Blott on the Landscape’ (1985), he was a sublime Sir Giles Lynchwood, all pompous bluster and hilarious ineptitude. He brought quiet authority to the lead in the drama ‘A Man of Our Times’ (1968) and even charmed audiences in a guest spot as the bank manager in the classic sitcom ‘The Good Life’.
His film career remained robust with comedies like ‘Too Many Crooks’ and he was a cherished voice on children’s BBC, narrating ‘Jackanory’. Each role, large or small, was treated with the same professional commitment and insightful characterisation.
Acting Style
George Cole was the epitome of the highly respected character actor—a craftsman of immense skill and subtlety. His style was defined by a remarkable naturalism; he never appeared to be “acting,” but simply inhabiting a life.
This effortless quality made his characters instantly believable, whether they were lovable rogues or figures of quiet authority.
He possessed a singular talent for moral ambiguity. Cole specialised in characters who operated in ethical grey areas, yet he always located their humanity, their vulnerability, or their warped logic.
He made you understand the chancer, even as you disapproved of his schemes. This was achieved through exquisite detail: a shift in the eyes, a particular cadence in his voice, or a small physical mannerism that spoke volumes.
His comic timing was impeccable, often deriving humour from understatement rather than broad strokes. He understood that the funniest moments often came from a character’s utter seriousness in a ridiculous situation.
Equally, he could convey dramatic weight with quiet restraint. Cole’s acting was a masterful balance of charm and substance, leaving an indelible impression through intelligence and nuance rather than force.
Personal Life
Away from the cameras, George Cole cherished a private, settled life. He was married twice: first to actress Eileen Moore, and then in 1967 to actress Penny Morrell, a union that lasted until his death.
He was a devoted father to his four children, including screenwriter Cris Cole. For over seventy years, he made his home in the village of Stoke Row, Oxfordshire, a testament to his preference for tranquillity over showbusiness glamour.
In 1992, his services to drama were recognised with an OBE. He later reflected on his extraordinary journey in a warmly received autobiography, ‘The World Was My Lobster’, published in 2013.
George Cole passed away peacefully on August 5, 2015, at the age of 90, leaving behind a family and a profession that deeply admired him.
In closing…
George Cole’s legacy is one of enduring quality and beloved characters. From the cheeky spiv Flash Harry to the monumental Arthur Daley, he gifted audiences with performances of wit, depth, and unforgettable charm.
He was a distinguished professional whose work, marked by intelligent subtlety and profound humanity, remains a benchmark for character acting. For those who appreciate craft, consistency, and the creation of true cultural icons, the career of George Cole offers a masterclass to be savoured.