Goodbye, possums! Bruce Beresford mourns his friend Barry Humphries. Cartoon by Nick Garland

I first met Barry in London in 1963. I’d seen his one-man show on stage in Australia, where he was already well known. Apart from a couple of appearances in small clubs, he had little reputation in London. He did odd jobs (as did I), including breaking old vinyl discs in a record factory. He dressed conservatively in those days, usually in Edwardian style, with waistcoat and hat. Over the years, his ensembles became increasingly bizarre, with an array of brightly coloured jackets and trousers and, at times, painted shoes. He never abandoned wearing ties, although in Australia men of all ages amble through city streets in shorts and T-shirts. The only men wearing ties are politicians and those on trial. There is quite a bit of information about his early years (in fact, all his years) in the autobiographies he wrote: a couple as Barry Humphries (My Life as...

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