By Producer Jack
Stood drunkenly on the terrace of the Red Lion pub in Hoxton Square I received my first phone call from Russell Brand. It was a Saturday night in October 2006 and I was a frivolous Assistant Producer with a new job. At this time, at least on the face of it, Russell was a digital TV presenter and ultimately my new boss.
Shocked into sobriety I remember the conversation surprisingly well. In hindsight the ambition and conviction he displayed then is no surprise, but at the time I was startled – which was dangerous considering I was pissed on a roof.
The purpose of the call primarily was to tell me I was up for a promotion. On what seemed like an ill-advised whim, Russell had decided I was to become his new Producer, not something I’d envisaged to be frank.
Russell relayed the good news in his own inimitable way, a heady concoction of compliments and commandments – like the promotion itself was a caveat for the workload ahead.
I hung in there determined not to slur at my ultra composed caller and listened as he detailed a glittering future that in all honesty was difficult to perceive. However, so rousing was the speech that by the end of the call had he said jump…..
After it ended I returned to the party all detached and bewildered like a nan at an orgy. I realise now I’d fallen for the cock eyed optimism and charisma of Russell Brand – girls I know how you feel, but in this case it was the gauntlet that had been laid.
I remembered that phone call last Saturday as we discussed Booky Wook 2 and the amazing O2 gig of the night before. Such a blur of activity has since past that I sometimes wonder if it happened at all. Maybe it didn’t. Maybe I just stumbled off that roof and as we speak an unknown presenter has just delivered grapes to my bedside.