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Read book online ยซI Am What I Am by John Barrowman (white hot kiss .TXT) ๐Ÿ“•ยป.   Author   -   John Barrowman



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they are shot out of sequence. The read-throughs familiarize each of us with the story arcs, so we know what came before and what comes after a particular moment of a specific scene.

There is much about those first few weeks on Torchwood that is a blur, but I do remember the few days I worked closely with Ray, Torchwoodโ€™s costume designer, as he fitted me for Jackโ€™s iconic RAF coat, his braces and his CAT boots. Russellโ€™s clear vision of โ€˜Torchwood Jackโ€™ influenced the decision that Jack would wear a belt and braces. This was a fashion trend in the thirties and forties, and it projected an image of Jack as a kind of Midwestern farm boy. During this costuming and design process, we were re-envisioning and repositioning Jack as Torchwoodโ€™s leader, as opposed to Captain Jack, the rogue Time Agent and follower in Doctor Who.

Everything I did during series one was with the intention of helping the show to find its audience and to forge an identity that was separate from our established BBC sibling. To achieve the former, I went on any TV talk show or radio programme that asked me to. I did guest appearances on This Morning, BBC Breakfast, Loose Women, Angry Women, Women On the Verge of Nervous Breakdowns, and Women Who Knit. I even stopped random women in the street, just to plug the series. One of the most fun highlights for me once the first season was up and running was finding out that Torchwood regularly beat out the football match on the other channel.

Hand-me-downs happen in every family, and the younger sibling, Torchwood, was no exception. We inherited some of the crew and materials from Doctor Who during series one because this kind of โ€˜double dippingโ€™10 was less expensive, more efficient, and it ensured that each drama would have the best in the business working on it. The process made a lot of sense.

What bugged me, however, was when Iโ€™d be filming a scene and Iโ€™d overhear a crew member say, โ€˜Iโ€™m going back to the mother ship next week,โ€™ or โ€˜Iโ€™m back on the Big Show next episode.โ€™ This happened a few times as we were finding our feet, and I felt the same way about it as I did when I inherited a sweater, shirt or even a uniform from Andrew.

When I was about seven or so, my dad thought heโ€™d give me a chance to play football, to be part of a team, and to see if I had any of the talents with a ball that Andrew had.11 My parents must have been hedging their bets that I didnโ€™t because instead of buying me a new uniform, they gave me one of Andrewโ€™s old strips and a pair of football boots heโ€™d outgrown. Off I went with some of my pals to play a game with the local Boysโ€™ Brigade team. Oh, joy.

When I came home later, I stood on the back porch of our house in Mount Vernon, caked in mud from head to toe, with grass stains tattooed on my knees and turf burns on my bum.

When my mum opened the door, I glared at her.

โ€˜Did you have a good game?โ€™

โ€˜Donโ€™t you ever ask me to do that again. I donโ€™t like being dirty.โ€™

Before the close of Torchwood series one, I asked Julie Gardner and the other producers to make sure that the crew who stayed with us for series two was there because of their commitment to Torchwood. I didnโ€™t want anyone on set who viewed Torchwood as โ€˜sloppy secondsโ€™.

The following year, when we began filming the second series, the message was received and Torchwood had its own group of regulars in the crew; plus new trailers from a Welsh company that were roomier and more immaculate inside than the hand-me-downs weโ€™d been using for the first series. We also had a new catering company for our meals on set. In general, we were well looked after, and I felt we had weaned ourselves nicely from the mother ship.

Series two saw Torchwood move to BBC2, and at that point as an ensemble of actors and as a drama, I believed we had found our feet. We were no longer the infant sibling. We were all grown up and walking well on our own. Then the first inkling that things were changing hit us like a falling spotlight.

Naoko, Eve, Burn and I were filming a sequence in the Hub (Gareth wasnโ€™t on set at that particular time). The Hub was a richly detailed and brilliantly imagined set, but filming there was always a bit of a pain in the arse because of how elaborately constructed it was.

The main parts of the Hub were built on three distinct levels. The lower level, where characters entered through the round steel door, or came up from the tunnels (which were constructed on a separate set, directly behind the Hub); the second platform level, where the computers and screens, the various Torchwood gizmos and gadgets, and the worn comfy couch were situated; and then, behind this main platform, were the steep steps down to the autopsy room. Jackโ€™s office, of course, was at the far side of the main level. When the entire team was on set for a scene, plus the crew, the lights, the sound, and the camera equipment, there was barely any room to think, never mind move.

The four of us finished our scene and we were walking together out of the Hub. We stepped through the thick, black safety curtains that separate the Torchwood set from that of Doctor Who and passed in front of the TARDIS, but when we got to the warehouse door, Burn cut out in front and stopped us.

โ€˜We wanted you to hear it first from us,โ€™ he said. โ€˜Naoko and I are dying at the end of the series. Our characters are dying and theyโ€™re not coming back.โ€™

Eve and I were stunned and really upset. We had not seen this

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