October 2003

5th October 2003

Making waves away from NY

WHEN I told friends I was relocating to New York for six months, I don't think many of them actually realised what I was saying. It's probably why I keep getting e-mails saying, "How was your trip?", or text messages asking, "Are you in?". The other night I chatted for about 20 minutes to a friend who was trying to arrange a night to pop over and it wasn't until the sound of a New York truck braking almost burst our eardrums that he realised that arranging a visit might involve some proper planning.

New York is so noisy and sometimes I jump up in my sleep thinking one of those trucks has missed my pillow by inches. I understand the trend for leaving the city after work on a Friday for a weekend in the Hamptons or a similar coastal place, although you need to have money or know someone with a weekend residence and also have the patience for the three-hour, or more, drive.

Last weekend I took a real schlep from New York to Nantucket for a wedding. It's a lovely island but possibly the most conservative place I have ever been to in the US. We came up with a little chant about it that's far too rude for this column. The looks that locals and the weekenders gave us as we strutted around town - a mile-long strip - were enough to instill massive insecurity but I have experience in the pariah stakes so wasn't that bothered. It was a reminder that New York is not a true reflection of the rest of America and of how beautiful parts of the US are.

On the way home we stopped off at a friend's house in Cape Cod, a place constantly referred to in films, and it was simply breathtaking. I don't think I've seen such luscious beaches and you can walk for miles without seeing a soul. Once you hit the motorway back into New York, though, its beauty becomes a distant memory and you are thrown back into the chaos that makes the city so maddening and intoxicating.

I have even started using the Subway, their Underground. It's like being in a film. They don't have much information or directional advice and you end up miles from anywhere if you're not careful. Staff are not really helpful and pretend they can't understand if you dare to ask for their help. In fact, New York is a bit of a free-for-all and the concept of good service is very much a thing of the past. You still have to tip everyone but you are really just boosting poor wages and getting very little in return.

I AM DOING my best to be prompt for my daily rehearsals but, no matter how early I start, I'm always late. I am slowly bringing everyone around to my chaotic way of working. US actors are a strident bunch and they ooze professionalism but I am not very "Sparkle, Tina, sparkle!". I have made sure that I know my lines backwards, though, which helps when people start to think I'm a loose cannon.

It doesn't take much and this week I had my first screaming row with our producer, Rosie O'Donnell. There have been countless reports in the American press that Rosie and I are constantly at each other's throats but it really isn't true. In fact, our row was a bit pathetic and she didn't even threaten to throw me out of a window. Working with her is great and when she shows up at rehearsals she says constructive things and brings the cast goodies such as jackets, fridge magnets and bouncing balls that light up and make strange noises.

I think Taboo New York is going to be a stonking show and, despite my best efforts to be all British about it, I'm really enjoying myself. I'm rather taken by the bone corset that they have had made me for one of my scenes - and you should see the shoes!

12th October 2003

Have a nice day? Not in New York

I NEVER thought I'd reach the stage where I would get annoyed by lazy use of the Queen's English. Living in New York one has to accept that Americans speak the same language but that they chew it a bit before they open their mouths. Sometimes you are forced to put on a mock American accent before you can be understood. And it is more effective if you shout and use speedy delivery. I actually like the brash "New Yawk" style but my gripe is with people who can't say "yes", "no" or "thank you". These simple courtesies are abbreviated to "ah huh" and often take on a mocking tone.

It's mostly teenagers who work in stores who have an aversion to saying thank you and can't be bothered to answer simple questions or help in any way. It was Quentin Crisp who once said: "In England if you ask for blue napkins in a shop, they say: "If it ain't on the shelf, we don't 'ave it' but in America if they don't have blue napkins they will fly them in for you." Perhaps Quentin moved to America in more polite times because the great service for which America was once known is a thing of the past. There are, of course, stores where the service is impeccable but they are usually at the high end, expensive places such as Dean and Deluca, our favourite local deli, which my flatmate Mike calls our Marks & Spencer. I guess that when you're shelling out $40 for a bottle of olive oil they had better treat you like royalty.

Tipping is still very much in place but you feel as if you are bumping up poor wages rather than acknowledging great service. It's understandable that if you are being paid lousy money for long hours in a dead-end job you might be resentful. But surely you should be resentful of the boss, not the customer?

I don't think that being rude or sulky is the slightest bit rebellious; it's more to do with going against conformist attitudes and you can do that perfectly well with a smile on your face. I never lasted long in any job but that was more to do with the way the employers treated me. If customers were rude to me when I worked in a clothes shop I tricked them into buying something that made them look ridiculous, or I deliberately overcharged them.

Mind you, some of the brats that you encounter in New York have great entertainment value and I can't count the number of times I've said "thank you" in the loudest voice possible before skipping out of the store. The upside is that such grumpy behaviour makes you realise that taking your own moods out on strangers is completely childish and makes you look like a fool.

I can't remember if it was Joan Crawford who once screeched: "Why can't we all just get along?" but I find myself saying this with alarming regularity. It's been a number of years since I've beard anyone in America uttering the cliche "Have a nice day" but I'm thinking of starting a campaign to reinstate the phrase.

On top of this, I'm suffering the projections of members of the media. "How do you think Middle America will take to Taboo?" they ask. It's all too much. I hardly think some raging Right-wing Christian redneck is going to buy a ticket to see me prancing about in green marabou. And why would I care what they think, anyway? I'm hardly going to go easy on the lipstick to appease them. I think it's far more bizarre that Arnold Schwarzenegger has been elected as Governor of California. Now that's really scary. At least with Taboo you can make your mind up in two hours and get on with your life - and I promise there will be no sequel. I'll be too busy running for President!

19th October 2003

Attila the Hun won't send roses

YOU should always take a deep breath, or even two, before you respond to anyone on an important issue - especially during a blazing row. Have you ever posted a letter and then waited by the post box for the postman in the hope you can get it back? Nowadays, we have the dreaded e-mail, and with one click you can say things fateful and regrettable. And that's to say nothing of the text message or the old faithful answerphone.

Being an impulsive sort of chap I couldn't count on a centipede's legs the number of times I've posted, clicked, texted and ranted before thinking of the consequences.Anyone who loves you will invariably understand that an unhinged friend is for life and not just for the good times. Even people like Madonna do it. I once heard an answerphone message she left a friend that was just left of Joan Crawford and not far off Bette Davis.

After the initial surprise that someone who spends so much time protecting her public image would expose her rage, I felt a little less insane myself. I have often joked: "Don't get too Glenn Close." A few ex-lovers have been celebrity stalked in my own way. I don't visit their homes once we are separated, but I have been known to flesh out the drama with technology. As long as nobody gets hurt there's nothing wrong with expressing how you feel, but if you date Attila the Hun don't expect roses.

Such irrational behaviour and collisions on the information highway are always much more amusing when you're not personally involved of course. After a heated exchange with our producer, Rosie O Donnell, my assistant Paul decided to clear the air by compiling a DVD of photographs and film footage of cute rehearsal moments set to music. Amusingly, it was set to You Ain't Seen Nothing Yet. The gift was handed to Rosie who slipped it in her bag and promised to check it out later.

Unfortunately, our randy Liverpudlian drummer, Chris Jago, had lent Paul a DVD of a more adult nature and the two had got mixed up. A frantic phone call was made to Rosie's partner who assured Paul that Rosie would have seen the funny side, but agreed to lift it from her handbag before she got the chance to enjoy it.

MORE amusing than all this was that Paul barely slept a wink worrying about what might happen and working out a defence speech to give when Rosie publicly branded him a pervert. I will, of course, wait for an opportune moment to enlighten Rosie and am quite sure she will laugh as much as I did. When Paul told me the story I almost fell off my sling backs. It was a well-intended gesture that could have gone hideously wrong.

I don't know whether Rosie's partner filled her in on the faux pas, but the offending item arrived at the production office and was duly thrown in the trash by a much-relieved Paul. The moral of this tale is, of course, don't buy pirate DVDs - but if you do then label them carefully. This all reminds me of the time my dear friend Phillip Sallon thought he had hung up after a conversation and was heard by the unfortunate caller telling a entire roomful of people that he was gorgeous to look at but put you to sleep once he opened his mouth.

Then there was the time I slapped someone around the face for knocking off my hat in a club in Ibiza. The person who had actually done it had scarpered. My victim was very good natured - and twice my size - but happy to let me buy him a drink.

26th October 2003

Whoever would have Gest it?

WHEN will poor Liza Minnelli get a break? Not only does she have to deal with the fact that her fourth marriage has failed; she is now facing a legal battle with her ex, David Gest, who claims she beat him. He says he was beaten so hard he has to take 11 medicines to ward off the pain. I'm sure that, after so many years of dancing, Liza is a strong bird but it's dificult to believe that a man could not restrain her.

Who knows whether Gest's claims are true? I'm sure Liza is as mad as a box of spanners but he must have known that a partnership with her would not be plain sailing. It is said that he was a crazy Judy Garland fan before marrying her daughter and has a vast collection of Garland memorabilia. Surely this alone should have been enough to put Liza off marrying him?

Across from where Taboo is about to open on New York's 45th Street is a new musical, The Boy From Oz. It is the story of Peter Allen, who wrote songs for and briefly romanced Garland, who then set him up with her daughter. One can't help but see the parallels. I met Gest once but he kept his shades on in a dark eaterie and barely uttered a word. Then there were the wedding photos in OK, which got me thinking that he looked like an alien. Anyone who looks strange alongside Michael Jackson must be viewed with some suspicion.

The US media is brimful of tales of Liza's antics and even more bizarre claims by Gest, who is seeking $10 million. No doubt the stories will grow tentacles and we will discover what we knew all along - that Liza's rehabilitation was suspect and that she is very much 'bang, bang, off her trolley'.

LIFE IN the theatre must have affected her sense of logic. The drama it takes to put a smile on an audience's face for two hours is hard for anyone not involved to comprehend. The other day, as I was having a minor fit trying to quick change from one uncomfortable costume into another, I couldn't help asking, why do I do it?Add the daily altercations over script changes and the panic that sets in as opening night approaches and you really start thinking you must be insane. But none of these things matters in the grand scheme of things because you have to remember so many people are relying on you to remain level-headed and, somehow, you always do.

We are only days away from performing for the public and we are in good shape but sometimes it's hard to be objective. We had to put our first preview night back for two days because of what we call technical hitches but, thanks to a bunch of fans who flew in from the UK, we got some healthy feedback. They loved the Broadway version of Taboo but felt that there were problems with the first act. We do know this and are in the process of fixing those problems. Julie and Dawn, who saw Taboo in London almost every night of its run, were part of the surprise reviewing posse and they had some constructive comments to make. They were doing just that as our producer, Rosie, was leaving the stage door and she quipped: "It's OK, girls, we're fixing those things."

Even on days when you feel that you might go crazy you just have to remember all the many people who are working their butts of to make the show run smoothly. I have total respect for the show's dancers, who have the hardest job of all. It's all I can do to remember the tiny dance moves I have been given but they are expected to learn complicated new moves at the click of a finger. The trick is to stay calm and remember that it's better than doing an early-morning paper round.

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