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

On my first trip, I’d love to travel back to the Hollywood of the thirties and forties and star in the classic MGM musicals of the time. Perhaps have the chance to perform with Gene Kelly, and have the opportunity to be part of a big, extravagant Busby Berkeley number for the man himself. I’d call him ‘Buz’ for short.

The film For Me and My Gal would suit my time-travel dream just fine. Plus, it would have the added bonus of allowing me to co-star with Judy Garland. Judy’s daughter, Lorna Luft, has been my friend for over twenty years. We first met at a charity luncheon in London, at which we were seated together. Most recently, I was a guest on Lorna’s BBC Radio 2 tribute concert to her mother. If I’m imagining a little time travel, it would be amazing to sing with Judy Garland as part of the journey.

‘If you could do a remake of a movie musical, which one would you choose?’

You’d probably expect me to say For Me and My Gal, but I picked that film in answer to your last question because of the conflagration of its actors and director.6 Funnily enough, though, my choice for a remake would be of another classic Judy Garland film.

If I could change a few things about it, then I’d love to do a new version of A Star Is Born. In my staging, I’d include additional songs – maybe add ‘I Know Him So Well’, which would fit perfectly because I’d also adapt the film’s original 1937 Dorothy Parker script so that the romantic relationship is between two males; one on the rise to stardom, the other on the downturn. I’m too old now to play Billy Crocker, or many of the leading male roles that are part of the classic Hollywood movie musicals, but in A Star Is Born, Norman Maine could and should be a man in his forties.7

‘Is there any item or gizmo you carry everywhere you go?’

I would be completely lost without my BlackBerry, my black MacBook and my dental floss. Oh, and a packet of baby wipes.

‘If you could be a superhero, who would you be? If you could have a superpower, what would it be?’

I don’t have to think about this one for very long. I’d want to be able to fly; and I’m happy to say that I’m already a superhero, but if being Captain Jack doesn’t count, then I’d love to pull on the iconic blue tights and red Speedos and be Superman.

‘Is there a person, living or dead, real or fictitious, with whom you’d like to have dinner, and why?’

As long as you’re picking up the tab, I’m inviting two people to dinner. The first person I’d choose would be my gran, Murn, who loved a good laugh, appreciated a good meal, and relished a good blether. She died when I was a teenager; given how close she and I were when I was growing up, I know she’d be bursting with pride for all that I’ve accomplished. I’d love to take Murn out to a fabulous restaurant and let her have the run of the entire menu – especially the desserts. I’d also let her wrap in her napkin as many rolls as she could fit in her handbag for later.

My second person would have to be one of my musical muses, Cole Porter. I imagine he’d be great company and I’d enjoy flirting a little with him. One of the areas of musical theatre that I’d like to learn more about, and perhaps even attempt to tackle some day if the right project should arise, is the art of writing lyrics. Cole Porter was the master at packing irony, double entendres, colourful details and pointed generalities into a song’s lyrics without them losing their heart. Cole and I would order champagne and caviar, and I’d make sure we got a table near the piano. How delightful!

‘What would you eat for your last supper?’

Honestly, if I knew I was facing the end and I had enough energy to eat a last meal, I probably wouldn’t. I’d find another organ to exercise and go out a different kind of satiated.8

Oh, if you insist. I’d gorge myself on shellfish, from prawns to shrimp to scallops to lobster. I’d dip them in butter, in olive oil, or in a sweet Thai sauce – and I’d hope that death would come swiftly before my allergy to all of them killed me slowly.

‘Do you and Scott have the same taste in fashion? And do you share your clothes with him?’

Don’t get me started. This subject is a bit of a touchy one in the Barrowman–Gill household. Scott and I have quite different tastes in fashion. He tends towards plain Ralph Lauren T-shirts and his favourite pair of tan Lucky jeans that I bought for him years ago in New York, and that he plans to wear until there’s no thread count left. He’s coming close.

Yet this man, who’s colour-blind and hates to shop, has no problem borrowing9 my flashy clothes, particularly my pink polo shirts and my trainers. This likely wouldn’t bother me if I’d already worn the shirt or the shoes, but sometimes I’ve not even taken the price tags off. I like to be the first person to wear an item I’ve purchased. I have a similar issue10 with books and magazines. Please don’t crack the spine or flick the folios before I get the chance to be the first one into the pages.

‘If you were invisible for a day, what would you do?’

I’d hide out in the locker room of the Welsh rugby team, or any professional male sports team for that matter. I love a man in a uniform.

‘Why do you wear your watch on your right wrist?’

I know now that most people who are right-handed wear a watch on their left wrist, but when I got my first watch – a birthday present from my mum and