Adventures in the Space Year 2006
Today’s filming for Discovery was a bit of a culture shock for someone used to doing soundbites for the BBC news. Yet despite the luxury of a full three-man crew, some things do not change when it comes to being interviewed on camera. The chaotic battle against failing light and the background noise of London, the threat of rain and mad last minute scramble for a suitable location were all reassuringly familiar.
The first element of traditional filming disarray came when we were moved on by threats from the police for attempting to film me against the background of Blackfriars Bridge. This was a bit of bugger given that one of the things they were interviewing me about was the Roberto Calvi case.
In desperation, the producer then decided to shoot me Ramones-style against a Victorian brick wall in a cobbled alley off of Cornwall Road. It felt odd doing this on my old South London turf. I never guessed when I explored this street as a child that one day I would be holding forth for the camera about Freemasonry round the back of St. John’s, (coincidentally one of the four ‘Waterloo churches’ in the vicinity built as a result of a meeting in the Freemasons’ Hall on 6th February, 1818).
The whole area around the South Bank was a playground for my 10-year-old imagination given its brutalist concrete had been used as location for the future in Doctor Who. However, I always thought if I had adventures in the space year 2006, they would revolve around fighting alien monsters or fascistic government stormtroopers, not answering questions on how the A.A. and Scientology were the ‘bastard children and grandchildren of Masonry’.
Whilst the assistant cameraman tidied up the backdrop for the camera – coke bottles, syringes and weeds were removed – I bonded with the cameraman and sound technician over Yugoslav war stories and bitching about how management practices were ruining BBC newsgathering. Possibly too close a bond was formed, as I was soon being asked questions about the length and bushiness of my chest hair. It was a first for me to have the radio microphone attached to my rug instead of my tie. The intimate nature of the operation was further brought home towards the end of filming when the mike’s battery pack was getting a touch too hot for something stuffed down the front of my jeans.
You know your day is going to be somewhat surreal when within 10 minutes of having left your house you see two women dressed as Supergirl walking along the street. Therefore I should not have been surprised filming was interrupted in an allegedly quiet alley was by first the presence of a strolling Alexi Sayle and then a gawping David Sullivan. In between the usual pauses and retakes caused by sirens, schoolchildren and belligerent Lambeth Park Rangers, I talked about paranoia caused by secrecy and I talked about P2 being Masonry’s worst nightmare.
Between gulps of water, I talked for more than an hour – which of course will probably be edited down to about to two 15-second clips for the final programme. Despite the fact I was only meant to be media whoring between 3-4pm, the shoot did not wrap up till 5:30 when the producer declared herself happy, suggested a meeting to talk about turning Secrets & Lies into a documentary series and I signed the release form. Of course after filming I felt fat, ugly and stupid, but that is just a common side effect of having anything to do with the whole business of television.
The thoroughly predictable filming overrun meant my plans for the evening were derailed. Unless you are Bart Allen or Wally West, there is no way of getting from SE1 to EC8 in 30 minutes during rush hour. This meant getting to see Iain Sinclair in Hackney at 6pm was a non-starter.
As consolation for this bitter loss, Surreal Girl took me to dinner at Carluccio’s Caffé on St. Christopher’s Place. How I have lived without tasting its rosemary bread and penne alla luganica before I just do not know. Hearty Italian food, a robust Sicilian red and the best smiling company in London were the perfect prescription for easing the bruise of not meeting one my literary gods.
The first element of traditional filming disarray came when we were moved on by threats from the police for attempting to film me against the background of Blackfriars Bridge. This was a bit of bugger given that one of the things they were interviewing me about was the Roberto Calvi case.
In desperation, the producer then decided to shoot me Ramones-style against a Victorian brick wall in a cobbled alley off of Cornwall Road. It felt odd doing this on my old South London turf. I never guessed when I explored this street as a child that one day I would be holding forth for the camera about Freemasonry round the back of St. John’s, (coincidentally one of the four ‘Waterloo churches’ in the vicinity built as a result of a meeting in the Freemasons’ Hall on 6th February, 1818).
The whole area around the South Bank was a playground for my 10-year-old imagination given its brutalist concrete had been used as location for the future in Doctor Who. However, I always thought if I had adventures in the space year 2006, they would revolve around fighting alien monsters or fascistic government stormtroopers, not answering questions on how the A.A. and Scientology were the ‘bastard children and grandchildren of Masonry’.
Whilst the assistant cameraman tidied up the backdrop for the camera – coke bottles, syringes and weeds were removed – I bonded with the cameraman and sound technician over Yugoslav war stories and bitching about how management practices were ruining BBC newsgathering. Possibly too close a bond was formed, as I was soon being asked questions about the length and bushiness of my chest hair. It was a first for me to have the radio microphone attached to my rug instead of my tie. The intimate nature of the operation was further brought home towards the end of filming when the mike’s battery pack was getting a touch too hot for something stuffed down the front of my jeans.
You know your day is going to be somewhat surreal when within 10 minutes of having left your house you see two women dressed as Supergirl walking along the street. Therefore I should not have been surprised filming was interrupted in an allegedly quiet alley was by first the presence of a strolling Alexi Sayle and then a gawping David Sullivan. In between the usual pauses and retakes caused by sirens, schoolchildren and belligerent Lambeth Park Rangers, I talked about paranoia caused by secrecy and I talked about P2 being Masonry’s worst nightmare.
Between gulps of water, I talked for more than an hour – which of course will probably be edited down to about to two 15-second clips for the final programme. Despite the fact I was only meant to be media whoring between 3-4pm, the shoot did not wrap up till 5:30 when the producer declared herself happy, suggested a meeting to talk about turning Secrets & Lies into a documentary series and I signed the release form. Of course after filming I felt fat, ugly and stupid, but that is just a common side effect of having anything to do with the whole business of television.
The thoroughly predictable filming overrun meant my plans for the evening were derailed. Unless you are Bart Allen or Wally West, there is no way of getting from SE1 to EC8 in 30 minutes during rush hour. This meant getting to see Iain Sinclair in Hackney at 6pm was a non-starter.
As consolation for this bitter loss, Surreal Girl took me to dinner at Carluccio’s Caffé on St. Christopher’s Place. How I have lived without tasting its rosemary bread and penne alla luganica before I just do not know. Hearty Italian food, a robust Sicilian red and the best smiling company in London were the perfect prescription for easing the bruise of not meeting one my literary gods.
posted by David at 11:59 PM
7 Comments:
I enjoyed the description of your interview process ever so much. Thank you for sharing. And as far as feeling fat? that's just the camera adding 10 lbs. Ugly? Stupid? Surely you must be joking.
I am sorry your plans were derailed but so glad you were able to enjoy a fine meal with even finer company. I am about to do the same...cheers! xo
Great story David! Hilarious. Was that really Alexei who walked past you?
Sounds like you enjoyed yourself, the post is rather funny. And your dinner description is making me salivate.
An Angel Visits You Each Day
Fat because the camera adds between 10-30lbs; ugly because of the unnatural circumstance of seeing yourself reflected in the black mirror image of a lens for such a long period and stupid due to the fact that after more than 90 minutes of answering questions your brain turns to mush.
And yes, it really was Alexi who bowled passed, talking into his mobile and casting a weary glance at the one-eyed conspiracy guy.
Yeah, that old chestnut of the "alledgedly quiet alley" that in London are always anything but!
Glad you bumped into Alexi as I feel he is probably one of the few people that I could really see doing justice when presenting a show on S&L.
Yeah I know that wasn't what you was getting at, but I'm just thinking laterally.
the problem with conspiracy stuff is its mind blowing when you spot a possible link, scary if you find too many "links" not to be a coincidence and then annoying that there is little you can do about it as few people would understand any danger!
their biggest defence is knowing the damage it can do the mind of the discoverer!
You raise an interesting point - there is no doubt some conspiracies have succeeded due to the fact that they are almost too ‘mind-blowing’ for the majority of people to entertain them as a the most likely explanation of the facts.
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