8:16am Saturday 22nd March 2008
By Emma Clayton
One of the nicest - and often most surreal - things about my job is that I get to interview people I’ve long admired.
For every Chuckle Brother, panto villain and X Factor finalist, there’s a Helen Mirren or a Matthew Bourne, a Stewart Lee or a Ken Loach.
I once gushed my way through an interview with Christopher Eccleston, who I had a massive crush on. I was so nervous beforehand I broke out in a stress rash the size of Wales.
One of my biggest thrills was interviewing the actor David Bradley who, as a boy, played Casper in Kes. He was lovely and I could’ve talked to him for hours. Being a lifelong Corrie fan, I was
thrilled to interview Bill Roache, alias Ken Barlow. As I revealed what in hindsight must have sounded like an unnerving amount of knowledge about the show he said, with maybe a hint of a shudder, "I
can tell you’re a fan."
Recently I chatted to the Australian prog-rocker behind Bjorn Again, the Abba tribute masters I’ve seen at least a dozen times over the past decade. I was so excited I could barely
breathe.
Having grown up in the Eighties, I still have affection for the old chart-toppers and I’ve been chuffed to interview the likes of Phil Oakey, Martin Fry and Andy McClusky, who were all
lovely.
The ones I’d rather forget include Norman Wisdom (not easy trying to do a phone interview with a deaf 90-year-old who could barely remember a thing about his career) and a monosyllabic
best-selling female novelist I’d better not name who was so rude and awkward with me that I often hide her books at the back of bookstore shelves. That’ll show her.
One of the first rules of journalism is not to get starstruck, and I tend not to unless it’s a big star (and let’s face it, since I don’t work in Hollywood the celebs I come across
are usually more of the C or D-list variety) but it still gives me a bit of a thrill seeing someone on telly who I’ve interviewed. Even if it is Joe Pasquale.
Since the first famous person I ever interviewed was Bella Emberg, who was opening a new charity shop in Cleckheaton, I like to think I’ve moved up a notch in the world of showbiz
journalism.
My friends and family are all bored with it all now and their eyes tend to glaze over at the words "When I interviewed so-and-so" - but there’s still one person I can impress with my low rent
showbiz anecdotes.
"You’ve met Chris Fountain?" my nine-year-old niece, Ellie, said this week, her eyes as wide as saucers.
She was counting the hours until the final of Dancing on Ice, which she’d become a bit obsessed with, and was rooting for Bradford finalist Chris. When I told her I’d met him her jaw
literally dropped. I was on a roll here so I milked it a bit, throwing in the fact that I’d also interviewed Gareth Gates, David Platt from Corrie and Tom from McFly (if you’re not
impressed, you’re not a nine-year-old girl).
"Cool," said Ellie. "If you interview Hannah Montana can you get her autograph for me?"
"Yeah, course," I said, casually, wondering how likely it would ever be that Hannah Montana would end up in panto at the Bradford Alhambra.
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