avid Walliams and his lawyers fought to the last to keep secret the results of a three-year investigation by ITV and the Guardian into claims by multiple women of the comedian and author's predatory behaviour dating back decades, but those attempts failed and now they have been laid bare before the public.
Accompanying the Guardian's reports, an hour-long documentary has been released – first on YouTube and now on ITVX. It largely follows what is rapidly and increasingly enragingly becoming a traditional format. Women with claims of historic abuse, perpetrated against them by a famous man apparently enabled by his fame and the people intent on maintaining the freedom of a lucrative asset, sit before a camera and give their testimony. Contemporary footage attesting to the jokes and insinuations in the public domain at the time are shown and mental vertigo sets in. Jonathan Ross introduces the 15th year of the British Comedy awards in 2004 with: "Like all 15-year-olds, it's drunk, it's unpredictable and it's probably going home with David Walliams," and Alan Carr a few years later likens his approach to women to that of "an illegal taxi driver – you lure them in to a false sense of security and then you pounce". You wonder at how shocking this now seems, given how little has – in meaningful, practical terms – changed since.
Some of the women have asked for their identities to be disguised, some have not. Some were 15 when they met Walliams, one was 17, some were 18, one was 19. Walliams would generally clock in at around twice whatever age they were. Some were vulnerable because of their youth, some for other reasons – an upbringing in care, perhaps, or previous experience of sexual abuse.
But they all tell similar stories, of being approached and charmed by Walliams, of having attention, invitations to parties, show tickets and gifts lavished upon them, and then of being manoeuvred into sexual scenarios they were not expecting, didn't want or didn't feel able to say no to – by virtue of their isolation, his celebrity status, or the psychological debt we now call "grooming" that they were in; usually all of the above. Most of them mention his physical size too: "He's a big guy"; "His huge head in my lap"; "Quite a looming figure … coming at me." Rare will be the woman watching who does not respond viscerally to such phrases due to her own experiences of men approaching her.
They also talk of the familiarity that fame breeds, encouraging a degree of trust – especially if you are young enough to have no real idea of how the world works or that you should perhaps not believe in an avuncular facade presented, say, by an endlessly encouraging judge of acts on a popular show such as Britain's Got Talent.
Occasional phrases strike through the thickening miasma of horrors, often because they suddenly bring the innocence of youth into such painfully stark view. "Alex" was 15 when she and her mum met a 32-year-old Walliams at a Little Britain show signing and she gave him some sketches she had written and a covering letter containing her phone number. He rang her and they talked for an hour. "I was just, like, full of hope and excitement." "Jade", also 15 when she met the then 36-year-old Walliams, agreed to go back to his house because "I didn't think he would want sex. Especially that quickly." He said they would wait until she was 16 and to stay in touch. She did not.
Beyond the spotlight on Walliams, of course – who denies all the allegations and is variously "mortified" and "devastated" to hear the now-women's accounts of their experiences – is the vast penumbra in which all those who enable alleged predators reside. A former friend of Walliams, "Ben", who says he witnessed the pattern of behaviour the women describe, says, "Money, fame, success – everyone wants to be around it, everyone wants to protect it." "Katie" reported her concerns about Walliams to HR at HarperCollins, the publishing company for whom he was a longstanding bestselling author (they have recently cut all ties with him). She describes unofficial arrangements evolving (not, apparently, in response to her complaints) so that young women were not left alone with Walliams, and adds succinctly that if he had not been such a cash cow, "he would just have been some random creep called Dave."
It is a meticulous hour detailing a meticulous investigation. It is only left to hope that it brings about equally meticulous change.