A Cartoon World

Hello World

Back again. Only a few years between posts, what can possibly be going on? Well, as usual, nothing much, or I wouldn't be writing this. Since I last addressed the masses of people who regularly tune in to this, I've been quite busy. Last year was a very good one, did five series, and I'm still doing one of them - Thomas And Friends. Lots of voices, not a lot of money, and the sessions are spaced well apart, but the fact is, at the moment, it's all I've got. Some corporate work and so on, but ho hum, life is ok, I'm still here. I invested some money in 'Morecambe' a one man show about Eric Morecambe, the English entertainer who was one half of Morecambe and Wise. Bob Golding, who is playing him, and everyone else in the show, was working with me on Noddy a couple of years back, he was PC Plod and I was Big Ears. It's another world. The show won an Olivier Award last week, and is still touring, and doing very well. At least I know how to spot a hit show. If only one would spot me. I also invested in Paramount, the club at the top of Centrepoint in London, a bit more of a risk, but frankly my bar bills alone are keeping the place afloat. Doing the Thomas Sessions is keeping me sane at the moment. Little else to be cheerful about. The weather is crap, the country is dying slowly in a mass of debt and there's strikes galore coming up. Politicians wonder why we don't listen to them. I've been around for about 10 election campaigns in my life, and they all say the same things, they promise the undeliverable, soothe us with cliches and then proceed to screw up in the same way all the others did. It's impossible to tell the difference between Britain now and Britain in 1978. Another reason to stay under the bedclothes. 

The problem I have here is that I can't write about Thomas, or HIT entertainment send a man with a baseball bat to my house and end my contract with extreme prejudice. I got my friend Simon a gig on Quote UnQuote, a BBC Panel game, and he did rather well, which was good for him, and good fun to watch. Fact is, I find blogs a bit puzzling. What is it people want from it? I could reveal that I'm an agent for some extremist organisation, but that would be self defeating. I could tell you about my many affairs with the actresses on soap operas, but that would be untrue and probably libellous. Listen, I'm going to bed now. Until I've got something useful and funny to say, I'm off. 

BAFTA BAFTA

Well, it's happened. The Secret Show has been given two BAFTAs. Best animated series and best interactive website (see attached pic, placed by Tony Collingwood on Facebook). I learned the news  from Sarah Fell, the aardman producer of Planet Sketch and others. She was at the ceremony on Sunday, and by coincidence, I'd been at her birthday lunch a week before. The news cheered me up, as I've been out of work and simply spending my time working on my new house. The builders are making good progress, and I've ripped out the old bathroom, tiled the kitchen floor (and my mother is cleaning off all the grout, which is a dreadful job, so I'm very grateful). That's my life. Did a TV ad today for Bullseye and Catchphrase interactive DVD games. Nice to see Jim Bowen is still working, and that Roy Walker is still alive.

Aardman and mini golf

Good lord it's been a while. Spent this weekend in Bristol. Who had the idea to build a city on a bloody great hill? Dave Peaock and I spent most of Saturday trying to find our way around Bristol, then finding Aardman's offices, then getting lost again. Like most animation companies, they don't advertise their presence, so they're not easy to find. We were there to meet Sara Fell, producer of Planet Sketch, and have a wander round the offices where it's made. Met all the crew, saw all the computers and then we couldn't get in the main set where they're shooting a feature film, so we didn't get to see all the models and cameras. The most unglamorous setting for a major production company I've seen. Sara was constantly apologising. Fun time though, and I'll get the pics off Dave to post here.

Spent Saturday in Weston Super Mare, home to Helen, another producer at Aardman, and played mini Golf with her, her husband Adam and yet another Planet Sketch Producer, Alex. His wife and young son were there, so it didn't feel too immature. It was though. Helen lives in Weston for its kitch value. She gets a good return on that. A seaside town like every other and like no other.

All in all, drank a lot, ate a lot, met Christina (producer of Chop Socky Chooks, another Aardman series) and had a great time.

In other news. I've been selling and buying property lately. Sold my whole portfolio - my flat, the downstairs flat, and I'm going to sell the house I'm living in at the moment. I'm buying a flat in Winchmore Hill, after a long and fruitless search in Hampstead and Highgate (I pulled out of one sale, a lovely flat in Highgate) after realising that I couldn't cram my life into an expensive shoebox and come away feeling that I'd made a good decision. The flat in Winchmore Hill is fantastic. Three bedrooms, all large, a large kitchen and bathroom, all on the first floor of an Edwardian conversion. This feels like progress. I can get my life and someone else's in there. Hampstead is a fine area, and my ambition to move there was not misplaced, it's just that I was a city bonus away from affording anything that would be classed as a proper home. The same money I'm spending on a 3-bed stunner in Winchmore Hill gets me a really pokey 2-bed in Hampstead. There's no competition. I can't feel bad, I've lost two investment properties, but gained a lovely place to live. I hope this all works out.

Work thin, but I'm busy on the property lark.

Tired now. Meeting Karl Wooley on Thursday, will have news then.

Some news

It's been ages since I did this. I heard that there are thousands of abandoned blogs on the web, which is probably because most people don't have much to say, nor much time to say it. Some people have mentioned to me that they've seen it, and they seem positive, but then people lie to me a lot.

Today I heard that a colleague, a fellow voice artist and member of the Calypso clan, Brad Lavell has died at the age of 47 from a sudden heart attack. I was in the Calypso office when they told me. I worked with Brad several times, and he was a very funny, very talented man. He did some work on The Secret Show, which was the last thing we were in together. There is nothing one can say about this, much beyond the usual, pointless, platitiudes, so I won't go on. He'll be greatly missed. Apparently he was with Calypso (that's my voice agent by the way) for about 20 years. So long Brad, sorry to see you go guy.

The death of someone close to your own age always hits you harder than you expect. You know we all have to go, but it's so rare that this happens in the normal run of things, and we're so protected from death generally (despite seeing it all the time on TV, we are not actually exposed to it very much in real life unless we work with it) that when it happens, we don't know how to react. I'm not sure there is a right way. The one thing it always does is to stop you worrying about life. The petty concerns that crowd your head all the time. At present, for instance, my car is in for repairs after a minor collision and I'm driving a courtesy car, I've had an offer accepted on a flat in Highgate (an amount that I never thought I'd ever offer for anything, but it's a beautiful flat and I'll end up with a managable mortgage) and I'm worried about that, I'm renovating the house I'm in at the moment, shuttling between this place and my mother's as I still don't have a usuable bathroom - and that's getting me down. Work is very thin indeed, despite being with a good agency, I feel a little left out at the moment. I spend hours working on the house, then realise I've not had a phone call for a few days. And I'm buying a flat in Highgate. And I don't know how much I'm going to earn this year, and I'm trying to get my website revamped and and and and.... and then I hear about Brad. It's all a bit silly really. Stop worrying and have a drink. Or maybe I'll go to the gym and have a nice swim. Haven't been in a few days.

Did a great job today, having said I was unemployed, doing some fake dubbing for an ad campaign. Badly dubbed and improvised dialogue over old movies for a few maltesers ads (which may or may not run). Very funny. Was with Simon Greenhall, who is one of the funniest VOs in the business. I should be doing more of this. Instead, I'm tiling a floor and editing some language tapes for a friend. (having said all this, the money I have to spend on the flat was made directly from selling my old flat, so tiling a floor may be more profitable than doing VO work. I should shut up).

Other than that, I have to say I haven't much to report, so I'll go. It's too late to make anything up. I could tell you that I'm training for the Olympics. They have a grouting event now, which I'm sure to win. And they are talking about a monathalon, which is doing one thing for two hours. Doesn't matter what it is, you just have to keep doing it for 120 minutes. I'm thinking about what I could do for that long at my age without injury. Blinking. Possibly. Moaning about the economy. Too easy. Pointing at things. Maybe. Suggestions?

Joe Pasquale on toast

Wednesday 21st Feb. Casting in the morning for 'The Bill' idents. Sponsorship things that go either side of the ad breaks. I never get these things. I nearly always get voice work I go up for, but almost never get visual stuff. These castings are always a bit of a chore for everybody concerned. The producer/casting director/whoever's in the room have seen four hundred people already, they've probably made up their minds before you walk in the room, and it would be easier if they simply said no as soon as you walked in. However, you do them, and they do pay off occasionally. I got a presenting gig earlier in the year, so I can't say it's a total waste of time. That was in the city. Then I walked to Stephen Street, where I did yet more promos for Virgin On Demand. That's turning into a nice little earner. Then I walked further west to The Sound Company.
Spent the afternoon recording Frankenstein's Cat. Two episodes, and it was a lovely session. Joe Pasquale told us the story of the toast on e-bay. Apparently, someone put up for sale a piece of toast with his face on it, like those madonnas that appear in aubergines. But instead of a random pattern of burning, they had scratched a child-like drawing of a face on one side of the toast. It sold for 750 quid, and the guy who bought it went to see Joe in panto and came backstage for him to sign it. The guy was 'no word of a lie' - Uri Geller. He'd even varnished the toast so it wouldn't dry up and crumble. And people give this man airtime and buy his books.
My mum and brother (it was his birthday) turned up for the recording, so they were entertained for a while by watching some people standing in front of mics doing silly voices. Then a few of us went to the Yorkshire Grey for a drink. It's a very old and very small pub, much loved by BBC journalists and sound engineers, just at the end of Gosfield Street. I've spent a few evenings in there that I don't remember very well, which is perhaps a good thing. Also, since I stopped smoking I've realised how awful it is sitting in a smokey room. It won't take long for people to get used to this smoking ban that's coming in soon. They'll complain for a while, but people like to socialise, and the pull of the pub will be greater than the desire to inhale after a short time.

The Last Week

Download cartoon_sessions.htm Firstly. I've posted a few more photos - Pitt and Kantropp Sessions. And also a sheet itemising all the cartoons I've done over the last 10 years. It's taken months to do, and it's still not quite complete. However, as an anorak's guide, it's pretty good. Thanks to Dave Peacock at The Sound Company for lending me his studio diaries from 2000 onwards. Most of the work I've done has been there. The Angelina Ballerina details came from Corinne at Grand Slamm Children's Films, who made Angelina for Hit. The rest is from Invoices and my diaries.

Just got back from BBC 3 Counties Radio, where I was interviewed about myself for an hour or so by Katy Lewis, a radio journalist, who back in the days I was in a sketch troupe in Edinburgh was doing our PR. She rang me a few weeks ago about doing some stuff for Comic Relief - compering a music gig they're putting on. I said no, but interviews are always welcome. Nice time talking about my career (if that's not too grand a word for a series of gigs) and nice to see her after so many years.
It's been a busy week, what with a new show recording on Monday (Apollo's Pad) and lots of promos for Virgin On Demand. A trip to Ikea at the weekend was also a blast, got a new chest of drawers for inside the built in wardrobe. Ah the excitement of life sometimes gets too much. This morning I was up at a time that no man should see so that I could get to Shepherds Bush and do a couple of radio ads for The Spectator and The Business Magazine. Following me in was Jon Glover, a fellow voice man, who always jokes that we get to do poofs and businessmen, following a spate of doing just that a couple of years ago. Jon was in Goon Again, Dirk Maggs recreation of the Goon Show in 2002. I was incandescent with envy about that, but at least it went to a mate and got to see the show from near the front row.
Talking of envy, Rob got a recall for The 39 Steps. Had lunch with him yesterday. He'll have a job with the director (Maria Aitken) who, if she's anything like the Round The Horne director, will be a bit  worried about his lack of theatre experience (i.e none whatsoever). But, the fact that he's a brilliant voice man, and a great improviser, will probably do the job. It worked for me.
I'm still working on the house, the shower still isn't installed and the floor for the living room will be done as soon as someone phones me back to organise it. It's one long series of delays at the moment. I'd rather be working frankly.
Tomorrow - Frankenstein's Cat (hooray!) and another promo for Virgin on demand. I'm off the gym now.

This week

I'm recovering from a bit of a hangover (the bit that makes you feel ill, that bit). Went out with the cast  of The Koala Brothers for a reunion dinner at The Heights. (Great views of London, rather too much champagne). From L to R:  Me (Frank, Archie and Sammy), Rob  Rackstraw (Buster, George), Janet James (Ned, Josie),  Alison Chopra (assistant producer), Baz (Lucinda's other half, who wasn't actually in the show but came anyway) , Lucinda Cowden (Mitzi, Lolly, Alice), Dave Johnson (creator and producer) and the ubiquitous Dave Peacock, our sound engineer. There will be no more Koala Brothers episodes made, but we live on through the repeats and also on stage in Cbeebies Live. Rob incidentally has managed to get an audition for The 39 Steps, thanks to Rupert Degas, another voice actor who will be leaving the show soon. Rob & I went to see the show when it was at The Tricycle in Kilburn. If Rob gets in, I'll be insanely jealous. The part is fantastic, hundreds of voices to do and lots of fast changes. Perfect for him, and also for me unfortunately. We spent the afternoon at The Heights, then on to Dave's club, Milk and Honey, in Soho. It was so dark in there we couldn't see each other. We could see enough to drink the wine though, so that was ok. I'd forgotten how crap travelling late at night on trains can be. At Kings Cross, there was a fight on the train and the police were called to arrest some bloke who had decided he didn't like some other bloke because of some remark he made to someone else, or something. It's how wars start. Quite dramatic, but all very pointless and intimidating. It took six large officers to pin the guy to the floor. I read the paper throughout. I've never been in a fight, and I don't intend to start now, particularly when it's not my argument.

More wincing with jealousy this week every time I see the British Gas ad featuring loads of their engineers. I did the VO for the TV ad (replacing Bill Oddie) and was then, in my turn, replaced by someone else. That's a lot of dosh completely diverted away from me. It's a huge campaign too, dammit.

The flipside of this was my meeting with Karl Woolley on Friday afternoon. Karl is the man responsible for The Tweenies when he was at Tell-Tale, and works at Lion TV. One night at the Groucho last year Karl decided to cast me in the TV series of Horrible Histories. He's producing it for Lion TV/BBC and it's been in the pipeline for a year now, following extensive re-writes, changes of personnel at the Beeb, and lots of other stuff Karl can't talk about without hitting things. I met him this week at his new office. He's working for The Creative Entertainment Group, who book huge gigs and tours for Elton John and the like. The office used to belong to the PR company of a minor Royal, and is rather too splendid to be the office of a friend of mine I felt. It's all original 18th Century Panelling and vast rooms. You can hear the footsteps of servants on the stairs, and smell the powder in the peri-wigs. For my entire life, I've wanted to be someone like Karl Wolley or Tony Collingwood. They never stop thinking of stuff. Ideas pour from them in a ceasless stream. I'm too lazy, or crap, or something, whatever, it means I have to work to think up stuff, or work with someone else. I' m a very good collaborator, but a fairly poor originator. As a performer my experience writing comedy over the years has been invaluable. Rob and I are good at adding stuff to scripts and finessing gags, which is one of the reasons we're employed I guess. (Rob's just started on series 16 of Bob the Builder, that's how much he's employed). Horrible Histories should be ready to film in about six weeks, and if it goes as planned, it'll be fairly high profile and make a huge difference to me (I hope). He also has other stuff planned that he wants me to get involved in, and the thing about Karl is that you can't actually refuse him, he's a constant creative force. We did a spoof phone in together last year, which was ruined by Radio 4 doing exactly the same thing.

The rest of my week was pretty much taken up with trying to get my study up and running properly. The house I've moved into is still a tip. I've put nearly everything I own in storage, and I'm still tripping over stuff the whole time. The shower still isn't installed. Typically, I bought a unit at a trade fair last year, and it was a bit of an impulse buy. The problem is that I can't have a bath as well, the bathroom is too small, and the shower needs to be installed by an electrician. (everything has to be certified these days). I've been waiting for the shower since last August, and the electrician was due on Friday. The snow meant that he couldn't make it, so it's been delayed another week. Argh. I'm starting to smell.

Domestic stuff is so unbearably dull, and there's so much of it at the moment. Two jobs tomorrow though, more NTL on demand stuff and a load of promos for something else, so that's a nice day to look forward to away from the house.

Monday

The problem with living out in the sticks is the journey into town. Today, the train was so packed you couldn't breathe. The previous train had been cancelled. When I got to the session, a promo for some new toys called Kid Knex for Nickelodeon, I thought about the other people on that train, who were all heading for office jobs and could get their head stuck into some amin. I had to spend an hour shouting a lot in a jolly voice about some odd-looking plastic things. Never the same job twice. Except that the next job was a promo for The Office on NTL/Virgin. Back to Stephen Street (See friday). Then I had lunch with Paul, Brian Bowles and Ewan Bailey. Very pleasant, and we came up with a character, Herr Shaudenfraude, a German who takes pleasure in other people's misfortunes. Very funny, if we could think of a use for him. If anyone nicks this idea, this blog is proof that we thought of it first.

One of the results of moving house is that I'm watching more tele. I'm staying with my mother for a while, as the house I'm moving to needs doing up a bit. She has Sky, and I've watched more tele in a week than in the last year. I'm constantly surprised at how unsurprising it all is. The best thing on at the moment is Planet Earth, and it's also the best argument for HDTV I've yet seen. Digital TV so far has been a disppointment. No real improvement in programmes, and no discernable difference in picture quality. (Digital Radio is actually worse than FM). It looks to me that movies are going to be the main winners. High-def transfers of movies on high-def screens will be fantastic, but the picture quality on digital TV is mostly awful. I also wonder what will happen to all those analogue sets once the transmitters are turned off. Of course, unless I'm in a programme, I can't really take much of an interest...

Signing off. I need to eat. I've just been on the PC for several hours. I paid 400 quid today for a data recovery company to retrieve stuff from a USB flash memory I managed to break last week. Like a twat, I didn't actually back up the very documents I needed. Argh. I love and hate computers. They allow all this communication, and yet keep screwing up and they lose data so easily. There are libraries in the Middle East that are thousands of years old. In four thousand years, all that will be left of our computer age will be the rotting shells of PC cases and Apple notebooks.

BTW I've posted a review of the secret show from the New York Times. Check it out before they notice and ask me to remove it. Download new_york_times.doc

Busy Day

Nice day today, despite a 7 o'clock start and a wait on a freezing provincial station to get into town. I've taken to walking from Kings Cross, through Bloomsbury and into the West End, partly because it helps my back (two collapsed discs - ouch) and partly because it's a nice walk and beats standing in a crowded tube train with two hundred depressed Londoners on their way to jobs they hate.

Today, I had several jobs for the new Virgin/NTL TV channel. 'Lets you watch what you want, when you want'. (these days, for me, I'm afraid that's nothing, most of the time). The first session was voicing a series of animated promos with a sort of nasal, suburban whiney lecturer voice. Great fun, and the studio was Trident in St Ann's Court, just off Wardour street. I've worked there quite a few times before, it's a basement studio now but used to be quite a large affair with a Bechstein grand piano. Bohemian Rhapsody was apparently recorded on the very spot where I was intoning the delights of the selection of programmes on channel 119. There are photos on the walls, next to album covers, detailing sessions and artists. The studio is also on the Beatles Trail, and many excitable Japanese Tourists come to have their photo taken where 'Hey Jude' was recorded in June 1968. One day, they'll be coming to pay homage to Virgin NTL's decision to use me and Rosie Cavellero to voice their on-air promotions in February 2007.

Two hours of that, and I'm off to Stephen Street to record some promos for Virgin, this time it's their programmes, rather than the channel itself. I get to show off my best smooth voice, my hard edged-American voice, my fresh-faced youthful voice and then leave.

At The Sound Company, I'm at a casting for a new cartoon. The writer/producers are there, along with Dave Peacock, and they want several characters from me. One of them is my arch-nemesis, the black gangsta rapper. I can do pretty much any voice people throw at me that's within my range, but I'm not black, never have been, never will be. I gave it my best shot, all the rhythms, cadences and ethnic charm I could muster. It wasn't as bad as thought it would be, and I think I got a lot of brownie points for even trying. The other characters were a lot easier. A Camp Northern bouncer, a drunk/drugged up rock star, a French (and very camp) second bouncer, and a particularly wonderful part as a completely insane punk rocker who simply shouts and swears for line after line. It was simply a string of invective. What a fantastic way to spend the afternoon. Rob Rackstraw was in the foyer, looking totally exhausted from his ski trip last week, and the session at the Groucho where he and Tony wrote the excuse slip for Jimmy Hibbert earlier in the week. That'll teach him to have more fun than anyone deserves.

Back to Stephen Street. This time, it was the promotional video for the launch of Virgin/NTL. I was, by coincidentally voicing over Rob Rackstraw, who did the test for it. What a small, incestuous world we inhabit. Sometimes.

A perfect voice over day.

I got home to a new shower unit, delivered today, despite having booked it for tomorrow. My poor mum had to cycle over to let the bloke scrape and push the huge boxes into my hallway. Not of interest to many people, I realise, but I've been waiting for this bloody thing for months. I haven't showered since October. One of the perks of being a voice over, no one gets to smell you. But it probably explains my complete lack of social engagements.

Frankenstein's Cat

Full day on Frankenstein's Cat at The Sound Company. 3 episodes. Very happy crew on this job, and a very nice project. The scripts are genuinely funny and warm. I was tired all day, thanks to being out last night at a friend's house, where we held a seance (I kid you not). We apparently contacted a lady called Zena Mackenzie who was a Greek dancer, a previous occupant of the house, who proceeded to dance the glass around the table for our amusement and consistently spelled things wrong for fun. If this was all true, it was a a remarkable evening. Even if it wasn't, it was fun. It did mean I was falling asleep for much of the session. The air in the booth, with five people all talking and laughing, rapidly gets short of oxygen. Alex, who plays Lottie in the series, was also falling asleep. Awful feeling. At 2pm I was off to another studio, Aquarium, to do a pilot for a series called Pocket Warriors. This is for Millimages, a company who have been one of my main employers for over a decade. Good fun, did three characters. Back to Frankenstein's Cat at 4pm.

Jimmy Hibbert, with whom I've worked on a few things now (he also writes scripts for cartoons, including The Secret Show) came to work with a slip written the previous night in an obviously drunken state on Groucho Club paper, excusing him from being funny after about 11.30. It was signed by Tony Collingwood and Rob Rackstraw. An evening I wish I'd been at, but the seance was entertaining enough.

Theresa, an actress in Frankenstein's Cat mentioned that she had to go during the day for a recall for a new series of Pinky and Perky. The thing about hearing things like this, even about people you like, is that you immediately think 'recall? Why wasn't I seen for that?' Which were my words to Theresa almost exactly. Apparently they initially wanted comedians or actors and didn't look for voice artistes. Maybe that explains it, or maybe not.

Talking of losing work; I'm still smarting from extracting myself from the Magic Roundabout. I had the part of Zebedee for over a year before the series starting recording, and the week before the first record, I discovered something that made me a little angry. I won't go into details here, it's all been smoothed over and it would be indiscreete to reveal any more, but suffice to say I went off the rails and pulled my services. Despite my getting into a bit of a tizz over it and trying to retrieve the situation, I'd lost the gig. Ouch. It still hurts. Stuff happens.

Long day again tomorrow. Several jobs, and a 9 o'clock start in Soho, so I'm off to bed at 10 or something ridiculous.