I Am What I Am

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I Am What I Am Page 8

by John Barrowman


  I know a lot of people may not believe me on this, given some of my comments after a few of her performances, but in the beginning I also thought Jessie Buckley was very talented. I still think she is. From the initial auditions, I thought Jessie would have incredible growth during the series, and I thought the same thing about Ashley Russell. I believed that, given the chance, both women would develop into strong performers. Sarah Lark was equally formidable when she started because she was already working in the West End. Ironically, this may have worked against her because she may have appeared too polished for the role of Nancy.

  All in all, the performers trying for the part were as talented a group as any of the artists I’ve had to work with on these shows. So it was a bit of a blow from left field, and certainly not one I saw coming, when the high drama of this series came my way from another member of the panel.

  Sir Cameron Mackintosh was not officially a judge on this show, but as the main producer of Oliver!, he took a keen interest in the casting process and joined the judging panel once the competition came down to its final four contestants (Jodie, Jessie, Sam Barks and Rachel Tucker). Cameron was in the audience for all the panel auditions, the rehearsals post-Nancy camp, and for all the shows, but because of his decision to stay in the wings until the climax of the series, he didn’t have much of a chance to build a public rapport with the contestants, or a relationship of any kind with the show’s audience. In the end, I think this may have had an impact on the show’s finale and Cameron’s offstage confrontation with me.

  Over the course of I’d Do Anything, as Jodie began to demonstrate to the panel that she was learning from all the feedback we were giving her, the viewers were beginning to recognize that Jodie might be the one to watch. This also meant that some people, Cameron in particular, were getting tougher with their critiques of her performances.

  After every show, and this held true for Maria and Any Dream too, the contestants would come up to the BBC bar afterwards. If they asked me for advice or more feedback, I’d happily give it. Almost every week, Jodie would come over and chat with me. One night, after a tough show when things had not gone well for her, Jodie approached me in the bar to ask how she could help herself to improve. I told her to try to see herself at a distance, and as much as possible to view her performance without emotion.

  This is a very hard thing to do, even for a seasoned performer, and I think it was advice that was applicable to us on the panel, too. When I give my feedback, I try to frame it in a way that makes it clear I’m not judging the performer as a person; I’m judging their work. I may be saying ‘you’re not right for this job’,7 but it’s because of the performance, not the individual. Working in showbiz means facing and accepting rejection, and it’s the toughest lesson to learn.

  On Saturday nights before airtime, all the judges would gather for a confab before going on, and we’d prep ourselves for what might happen if each girl on the show failed or succeeded. We’d draft out a rough response that related to whatever points or challenges we might have given her earlier performances. I took very seriously the aspect of the show that expected development in the performers, and this meant I paid attention to whatever the other judges and I had said in the past.

  Since we didn’t know what was going to happen, we had to be ready for both eventualities: the good and the bad. The show was live, and in live television there’s no time after a performance for a judge to stare blankly into space because he or she was gobsmacked by the success or the failure of a contestant. A performer may have a great dress rehearsal, but things can change in a heartbeat when you’re in front of a live studio and television audience, and it often did.

  During those pre-show meetings, I began to get the impression that Cameron and Andrew were pushing a bit harder for Jessie Buckley. At this point in the series, about midway, I had not really made up my mind yet. It wasn’t until the semi-finals, when I started to see enough growth in people, that I began to think seriously about which performer could carry a West End show.

  The reasons, in the end, that I didn’t support Jessie were that I didn’t see enough maturation in her performances, and I thought she was too young to play Nancy. I also suspected that she might not be able to handle the leadership that a leading lady would be expected to demonstrate and, to be honest, I saw limited emotional depth in her repertoire.

  For example, when Jessie was singing an emotive song, she’d raise her hand and touch her forehead to suggest she was feeling something. She would do this quite deliberately. Lots of performers have a trait or a small movement that becomes part of their onstage persona. For example, Carol Burnett always tugs her ear at the end of her performances, and in Tonight’s the Night, when I stepped down from my ‘illuminated ring’,8 I always did a spin at the front of the stage. Neither one of these rituals is an emotional move. Acting is about making the emotion seem real and if, to convey that feeling, an actor relies only on a superficial, choreographed move, it lessens the impact.

  Having said all that, Jessie did have her good points. She was gorgeous, had charisma and she had a great voice. What Jessie, and a few other Nancy contestants, also needed, however, was a lesson in how to walk in high heels. At John Barrowman’s Beauty, Charm and Confidence School, this would be one of the first required courses. For this, I believe, is an important life lesson for women.9

  I worry, I really do, that with so many younger women wearing flip-flops and flats these days – including my niece Clare, who has more pairs of flip-flops than anyone I know – walking correctly in heels will become a lost art. How tragic that would be! That’s why, when Clare was old enough to wear high heels, I gave her lessons in how to walk in them. Heel first. Weight on hips. Back straight. Strut. She can walk in any inch heel now and never looks as if she’s going to topple. Clare put her learning into action when she walked the red carpet with me at the New York premiere of De-Lovely, the Cole Porter biopic I filmed with Kevin Kline, and she strutted her heels with my co-star Ashley Judd like a pro. Jessie and a couple of the other Nancy contestants took advantage of my special skills in this area.10

  As the series progressed, it became obvious to me that Cameron wanted Jessie to win. Of the four finalists, while he loved Sam, he felt she was too immature to take on the role. He said he would be happy with any of the other three women winning the part – Jodie, Jessie or Rachel – but it was apparent that Jessie was his first choice to be Nancy.

  During the contest, Cameron did not want Ashley Russell to move forward. He really liked her offstage, but onstage he found that her performances grated on him, and that she was unable, somehow, to communicate her sparkling offstage personality through her songs. I liked Ashley too – both on- and offstage – but she lost my support as Nancy in the end because she just wasn’t progressing as much as I would have liked, or even as much as some of the other performers.

  But one of the funniest aspects of Cameron’s dissatisfaction with Ashley was that Andrew’s children had sussed this out. Any time they were within earshot of Cameron, Denise or I would yell, ‘Who are you voting for?’ and Andrew’s kids would reply loudly, ‘Ashley! We love her!’

  On the fourth show of the series, Ashley and Francesca Jackson were in the bottom two after the audience voting. Cameron must have been thinking this was it; now Ashley would surely be gone. He was wrong and, unfortunately, I bore the brunt of his wrath.

  One of the things I admire about Andrew in this kind of context11 is that sometimes if Denise or I were strong in our opinions and we had compelling evidence to support them, Andrew listened to us. A lot of times, especially when we were witnessing an amazing performance, we’d all confer across the panel with our eyes. On this particular night, Andrew watched, listened, and chose to save Ashley.

  I came offstage and directly into a confrontation with Cameron. In general, I don’t let people rim me out in anger, but if it’s really warranted, I might bite my tongue. In this case, Cameron was furious that Ashley had been s
aved and he seemed to hold me partly responsible.

  After the closing credits, Cameron stormed off the set. I thought we’d had a terrific show with lots of drama, and impressive vocal performances. We were making I’d Do Anything for the viewers – not Cameron – so they could pick a Nancy who they’d want to pay their hard-earned cash to see.

  Speaking of which, even before the semi-final, the box-office advance for Oliver! was huge; two-thirds of the advance bookings came from people who did not even know who exactly was going to play Nancy – they may have booked hoping for Jessie, Jodie, Rachel or Sam – which just goes to demonstrate the calibre of the contestants. Oliver! also starred Rowan Atkinson as Fagin, who was clearly a massive draw. By the time the show opened, in January 2009, the stellar cast – Jodie as Nancy, Burn Gorman12 as Bill Sikes, plus Rowan and many other fantastic performers – had attracted phenomenal box-office receipts in the region of £15 million.

  On this evening, in week four, I congratulated Ashley, offered my heartfelt condolences to Francesca and stepped off set, where I immediately ran into Cameron. He was furious. He’d thought that he and Andrew had agreed on the matter of Ashley, and he was astonished that this turnabout had occurred. When I defended Ashley, and Andrew for having saved her – after all, it was only the fourth week, and, had Ashley improved, she could even have won the competition – Cameron lashed out at me.

  ‘I’m a bit worried about your judgement and taste now,’ he yelled, ‘because what you’ve just done has shown me that you don’t have any taste. I’m the one producing this fucking show, not you!’

  Of course, I continued to defend my opinion – and he continued to yell at me, in front of all the BBC runners, some of the staff and crew, and Denise. I think Andrew may have been in earshot, too.

  I was stunned into silence.13 After a few beats, I caught my breath and I thought, ‘I don’t need to take this from him.’ Cameron is a friend, I respect him immensely, and we have a long history together.14

  I leaned towards him and said, ‘If you feel that strongly about these performers, then why aren’t you on the panel? I’m up there to be a judge. I’m not a casting director.’ I paused and then added, ‘The viewers will cast this and there’s a good chance they’re not going to cast who you want.’ I avoided him for the rest of the night.

  Later, when the show was over and I thought about all that had happened, I think this incident may have been a defining moment for me in that series. The confrontation showed me that when Cameron felt strongly about a particular performer, he would communicate his views passionately. I realized that when the show reached the finals, I might have to balance Cameron’s (and Andrew’s) push for Jessie. From that moment, I decided I was going to stick up for the performers whom I thought could carry a West End show; performers I thought had the temperament and the talent to be in the West End.

  A couple of days after this incident, Gavin received a call from Trevor Jackson, Cameron’s casting director, asking if I was okay because he’d heard about the blow-up. He wanted to know if I was angry with Cameron. I said I wasn’t and I meant it. Yeah, Cameron was out of line and behaved badly, but I think he was caught up in the adrenalin of the moment – and the casting of the show – and, well, we’ve all been there.

  There’s a pace and a rhythm to these talent shows. At about show six, the crescendo begins, the momentum picks up and the pressure builds. Weaker performers slipped away, but Jodie was getting stronger, and, in her performance of ‘Send in the Clowns’ in week three, I thought I might well, at some point in the contest, see her pulling away from the competition. When the final arrived, as I’d expected, Jessie and Jodie were the two left in the contest for the very last sing-off.

  Here was where I believe my experience allowed me to make a judgement call. I realized that after Jessie and Jodie performed in the finale, we would be expected to give our opinion and to offer our advice, but I knew from experience that I could trust the British viewing public to make the right choice and to pick a Nancy they’d fork out to see. In many ways, with these programmes, it almost doesn’t matter what the West End show is, as the public are voting for the performer and they’re going to sell out the production because of that performer.

  Denise and I decided that we’d give our opinions strongly in the first show,15 and then we would back off during the second one and let the viewers make their own decisions. In the second programme, we decided to give positive feedback to both Jessie and Jodie.

  Honestly, this final contest was one of the best I’ve participated in since Maria. Both Jessie and Jodie sang really well. Their performances made for incredibly competitive and compelling TV.

  When Graham Norton, the show’s presenter, asked us for our comments after the contestants’ final songs, both Denise and I praised them equally. Barry knocked Jodie and boosted Jessie. Cameron cut down Jodie and boosted Jessie. Andrew did the same. I looked at Den and shrugged, because we knew that it was out of their hands and maybe, just maybe, they had hurt Jessie’s cause.

  After the phone lines closed and before the winner was announced, Graham asked us to make our choice.

  ‘John, who is your Nancy?’

  ‘Jodie.’

  ‘Denise?’

  ‘Jodie.’

  Barry, the Lord and Cameron all picked Jessie.

  ‘The winning Nancy is …’ – twenty-minute-long dramatic pause – ‘… Jodie!’

  Denise and I jumped up so fast, I felt dizzy. We threw ourselves into each other’s arms. I was in tears and was punching the air like a madman.

  After the excitement calmed, and the show ended, I did what I’d done every week in every one of the shows on which I’d been judging: I went over to the family and the supporters of the performer who had lost and I told them that I thought their daughter or son was talented and would go far. I did this to every Maria and to every Joseph and to every Nancy who lost.

  Only twice have my condolences gone badly. Once, I had a parent lash out at me. You know what? I’d likely behave in the same way if it were my son or daughter. It was always a hugely emotional moment for everyone involved.

  What’s really important for all of us to remember about these particular talent shows is that they put bums on theatre seats and 90 per cent of the finalists find work in musical theatre. Jessie was no exception. She was not Nancy, but she was good enough to perform in Stephen Sondheim’s A Little Night Music in the West End, and she was wonderful.

  TABLE TALK #4

  ‘There’s an Iguana in the Toilet and He’s Grinning at Me’

  Ever since one of the first family Christmas shows starring yours truly, Clare and Turner, when they played two of the von Trapp children and Turner belted out, ‘So long, farewell, my feet are saying goodbye’ instead of ‘Auf wiedersehen, goodbye,’1 I’ve loved working with children. And I’m especially thrilled when children recognize me and ask me for my autograph – or, more accurately, when they ask to have a picture taken with Captain Jack.

  One day, when I was in Costco, a young boy and his mother came up to me as I was finishing paying for my industrial cartload at the checkout. She said her son had been watching me going up and down the aisles, and finally he’d asked her why Captain Jack was shopping in Costco.

  Why, indeed.

  For younger children who are Doctor Who fans (and who are too young to watch Torchwood ), when they see me in a store, on the street, or at the movies, it’s Captain Jack they see, and not John Barrowman. I took the mum’s lead and said to her son that Jack was undercover. I’d heard from the Doctor that there’d been a possible sighting of a Cyberman in Costco. I asked him if he’d noticed anything unusual while he was shopping with his mum. He shook his head in all seriousness and said no, he had not. I shook his hand and as he headed out of the store, he turned and said, ‘Bye, Captain Jack, but I’ll keep watching.’

  And he did. He watched all the way to his car, when he gave me a little wave as his mum fastened him into his booster seat
. I gave him a quick salute. He was beaming as the car disappeared out of the parking lot.

  Two summers ago, I opened a summer country fete in the south of England and agreed to set up a table and sign autographs, with donations for them going to a local charity. I didn’t have a great deal of time open in my schedule, and, naturally, it was pouring rain and there were only so many pairs of welly boots to go around.2 The line was very long, so I asked if everyone would be okay with allowing the children to come up and be first in line. No one argued at all and, in the end, I was able to sign an autograph for everyone who waited.

  One of the last children to step up was a boy of about eight or nine. He handed me his Captain Jack action figure and asked if I’d sign it. He and I took a few minutes to decide where exactly was the best place to have the autograph3 because this was clearly a well-played-with figure. While I was signing the toy, he leaned in really close to my ear and said, ‘I don’t care if Jack likes a man or likes a woman, he’s still my favourite hero.’ I was so chuffed. I gave him a really big hug.

  During the summer of 2008, I filmed a number of segment links for my show on CBBC, Animals at Work. The show is made up of clips of animals doing really cool and amazing things, like an elephant in Thailand that cleans toilets.4 The shoot for Animals at Work took place at a rural zoo that I’m convinced was run by Basil Fawlty. I arrived very early in the morning and after a quick wander round – noting the overgrown vegetation, the stinking cages, the swarms of flies everywhere, and the sign that read ‘WARNING: Lions Roaming the Premises’5 – I began to wonder exactly what I was doing there. I mean, I’m a proper celebrity. I get recognized in M&S.

  The zoo’s outbuildings consisted of a large bungalow, where Basil and Sybil Fawlty lived; a faux Swiss chalet that housed the zoo’s office; and a floor of dormitories for children who were participating in the Fawltys’ ‘summer camp for kids whose parents don’t have a clue’. Behind all of these buildings there was acreage dotted with cages overgrown with brush (thankfully, the animals inside looked healthy), gravel walking trails, and a large pond with wild peacocks, ducks, geese and a few llamas lurking nearby.

 

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