I Am What I Am, John Barrowman [smart ebook reader .txt] 📗

or two, too. I certainly did. Mel Balac, one of the producers, who worked with the judges during all three series and went on to co-produce with Gavin and me on Tonight’s the Night, taught me about the importance of producing myself.12 In the television biz, this means knowing when to speak up and when to shut up,13 knowing when to butt in, and knowing what to say in a brief number of words without going over the top and losing the audience.

When I first worked with Mel, a pretty, petite, dark-haired woman with lots of savvy and chutzpah,14 all she ever wore on her feet were trainers or flats. Throughout the rehearsals, I kept telling her she had to wear heels on the nights of the actual shows. In my eyes, there’s nothing worse than a woman in a flattering pair of jeans, a lovely top and then a pair of flat, scuffed-up ballet slippers or manky tennis shoes. Talk about what not to wear.15 Anyway, I gave her enough grief about her shoes that she broke down and bought a lovely pair of Marc Jacobs.16

On one of the first nights on the show, when Mel was wearing her fabulous shoes, Denise was making a point to one of the contestants after her performance when, suddenly, the path down which she was heading with her comment veered off in another direction. Denise was getting so far from the point she was originally trying to make that she had wandered next door to Blue Peter. In my head, I was thinking, ‘Okay. Stop now, Denise. Anytime.’

Then I looked over to my right. Mel was jumping up and down off camera, waving one of her Marc Jacobs high in the air and then slashing it across her throat. Not because what Denise was saying lacked validity, it had plenty, but time is precious on live TV and Denise’s wanderings would mean that someone else would have to say next to nothing to make up the time. Denise caught the waving shoe out of the corner of her eye and, with grace and poise, she brought her journey to an end.

One of the biggest challenges of being a talent-show judge is to avoid the temptation of saying something just for the sake of a sound bite. Of course I want to be pithy and say things that have punch to them – I’m an entertainer, for goodness’ sake – but I always attempt to frame my critical bites with evidence from the performance. This is live television, after all, and this makes the entire series a very public casting call for these performers.

I’m very loyal to the folks I’ve judged, if they’ve wanted to keep in contact. In my family, we call this being on the long road with someone; staying in touch with them for their entire journey, even if it’s only an occasional email that marks the connection. Along with Jodie, Daniel and Ben, the Joseph contestant Keith Jack has kept in touch. After the shows have ended, I’ve helped a number of the performers to get agents. The ones I thought were really good, I recommended Gavin represent, because not only do I think they’ll have long careers, but I also want to work with them on my albums, my concerts and my future TV shows.

A good deal of this business depends on networking and forging relationships. Learning how to do this is an important skill. After all, you may not be right for the part of the gay lead in a US sitcom, but a friend of a casting director, who once worked with you on that other show two years ago, thinks you would be perfect for the role of a rakish sci-fi hero.

One of my favourite staying-in-touch stories from working as a judge is also a lovely romantic one. Denise and Lee Mead began dating after Any Dream was over and Lee had won. In the late spring of 2009, they were married. Immediately after the ceremony, Denise sent me a text from a tropical island to announce that they had tied the knot. I was thrilled for them.

Back in the spring of 2008, after my concert at the Hammersmith Apollo – which was staged, in part, to promote my album Another Side – Lee and Denise came backstage, having watched my performance. For fun, I gave them both concert T-shirts with my face on them.

One night a few weeks later, when Den and I were judging on I’d Do Anything, Den came into my dressing room before the show. She was giggling even before she’d sat down. She told me she’d put on the JB concert T-shirt before going to bed. In a moment of, um, passion, Lee had looked up and seen my face smiling down on him.

‘Fantastic, fantastic, fantastic!’ exclaimed Denise. ‘Get it off! Off! Off!’ cried Lee.

TABLE TALK #2

‘We Have a Hostage Situation – Send in the Clowns’

I could hear my mum and sister laughing when I put my ear to the bathroom door. Refrain from going ‘Ewww!’ You know as well as I do that it’s a fact of life that women travel like wildebeests and go to the bathroom in herds, especially when they’re in restaurants and clubs, but when they’re at home they rarely pee in pairs. I had to check. It was getting close to midnight on a Saturday night and my mum, my dad, Carole, Scott and I were getting ready for bed. The main bathroom in my house in Sully was certainly big enough to accommodate two people brushing their teeth, but for my plan to work I really needed to be sure that Carole and Mum had gone in there together.

They had. Check.

I reached above the bathroom door and found the spare bathroom key. Don’t ask me why there’s an extra key. I think it may have something to do with making sure children don’t get themselves locked inside, but I did not build this