| MARK MANCHESTER | TV & Radio Presenter | Voiceover Artist |

Battle Axe

admin — Tue, 24 Apr 2012 19:10:18 +0000

24th April, 2012.

I don’t mind admitting, I’m a sucker for a good harmony. I love a big belting performance and I love a diva in the making. So, unsurprisingly, I’m a little bit in love with Barbara Bryceland from The Voice. But that’s ok, Will.i.am is too. Dope.

Now, it’s fair to say that the big divas never fair particularly well in reality singing competitions on TV. Sure, they hang around for a bit, get ‘nicely’ derided, but ultimately, they’re always gone before the big money rounds. OK, there’s Susan Boyle, but she knew exactly what she was doing. Britain’s Got Talent is the fast track version of The X Factor after all. 3 performances and you’re in the final…

Brenda Edwards, Mary Byrne and many others whose names even I can’t remember anymore; they’re the note perfect belters who do wonders for the Barbra Streisand back catalogue. They put on the sort of performances we love, but just aren’t the right ‘fit’ for these programmes. Until now. Until Barbara Bryceland. But guess what? She’s out too…

Watching the battle rounds on The Voice this weekend, I was knocked out by the performances. This country has some serious singing talent, and utilised in the right way, just like this, it’s epic. Barbara and Leanne’s sing-off was one of the highlights for me. Yes, it can be a little bit shouty for some, but here are two divas belting out a contemporary pop song, in tune, in harmony and making it completely their own. I’m not quite sure this show’s got their priorities right.

It’s all about ‘the voice’, right? They’re looking for the best vocal talents in the country. So why are they putting great singers head to head? What’s the need to kick them out so soon, so quickly? I think they’ve missed a trick here. This battle format is television gold, just keep this and let the public have their say. But no. Next week the shows ‘go live’ and the singers are going solo in front of the four judges, sorry… coaches, for the public to vote on. Sound familiar? Yawn. Oh, and they’ll probably be the singers the show wanted in the first place. The ones that look good and have a bit of a story too…

I don’t really want to knock it, it’s big budget TV that caters to the masses and no show is going to be completely unique any more, but I can’t help but feel The Voice has peaked too soon. I guess we’ll see when the ratings stack up later, but I just can’t help but be a bit disappointed.

So what of poor Barbara Bryceland, our glamorous granny? I guess it’s back to the day job. Sad really. I think she could have done really well if given the chance. But then again, maybe it is for the best. One more version of Donna Summer’s Last Dance might just have put the final nail in the coffin for all future over 25′s…

Avengers Assemble

admin — Sat, 21 Apr 2012 19:03:20 +0000

21st April, 2012.

Last time I went to a film premiere it was 90% humidity, 30+ degrees and I ended up with food poisoning from a dodgy swordfish! But that’s another story… and certainly not one that was going to put me off when this exciting little treasure fell into my hands:

I’ve got a number of friends who think my job leads me to attend showbiz events all the time. One’s even convinced I’ve got Phillip Schofield on speed dial, I kid you not, but in reality I don’t often get invited to anything showbiz related on my own merit. Hey, that’s media kids! No, my philanderings in the world of the red carpet always seem to happen as someone’s plus one, but that suits me just fine.

I’d been looking forward to the new Marvel movie for ages. I was planning on going to one of the first showings this Thursday, when it opens in the UK. So, getting an invite to the European Premiere was just priceless.

Now anyone who’s ever been to one of things before knows that it’s more of an organised schmooze-fest for business folks than it is for the fans. Clients are wined and dined on the studio’s dime before being whisked along a red carpet into a cinema to watch the movie. The flashing cameras and the glimpse of an odd celebrity is just an added bonus, and that’s actually more fun to watch than it is to be a part of for sure. Don’t forget, someone else has already paid a fortune for the screening rights to the event too, so the real show is orchestrated brilliantly to one side to ensure maximum face time for the A list stars and their fawning media.

So, for us invited star spotters, a very brisk walk along the afore-mentioned carpet it is, with some hefty bouncer types to make sure our instagrammed photo time is kept to a minimum. A goodie bag of treats awaits on the pre-assigned cinema chair, if you’re in one of the important screens, that is. An ‘extreme’ chair though; leather, large and not a whiff of stale popcorn. Am I making it sound like an ordeal? Oh, who am I kidding. I love every minute of it. I saw ‘him’ from The Apprentice and ‘her’ from Essex. What’s not to love?

The movie, by the way, is a perfect mix of epic and awesome, a description often used by a friend’s 7 year old son, but one which sits perfectly. I’m no critic, I just like what I like, and not everyone’s going to agree, of course. But if I can be entertained for a few hours with some huge action stunts and an unexpected mix of laughs thrown in, I’m as happy as Keith Lemon with a blonde on his arm… and I can assure you that’s the case, he was sat right in front of me.

Rule Britannia!

admin — Mon, 02 May 2011 14:30:56 +0000

2nd May, 2011.

So, Will and Kate got hitched. By now, you’re either beaming with National pride or you’re sick to death of all the coverage. Did you watch the Beeb or did you watch Phil & Julie? Did you have a street party? Was Beatrice’s hat just about the worst thing you’ve ever seen? So many questions that in all honesty have been answered to the nth degree by now. But just for the record, yes, that hat was hideous…

Living in London, I hear about big press events on pretty much a weekly basis. There’s always something to keep the paps in business, whether it be a film premiere in Leicester Square or a major sporting event of some description and if it’s something that interests me, I always face the same dilemma; ‘Should I get on the tube and go and see what it’s all about?’. Largely, the answer to that is normally ‘no’. Blame it on my age, or call it apathy in general, but it really does take something fairly special to motivate me into action.

I was 3 when Charles & Di got married. We had a street party. If my memory serves me correctly it rained… The same happened a few years later for Andrew & Fergie too! Still, as a 7 year old by then, I found it really exciting that we had proper ‘Road Closed’ signs from the council and all the neighbours were out with tressle tables, home-made food and bunting tied around the street lamps. Even Mr Johnson from no.25 got in on the act with a hand-made, fully-iced Victoria sponge! As he was a fairly reclusive man, this was quite a big deal. Now sadly, and I only really thought about this last week, I hadn’t experienced anything to match it in the last 25 years….

So, Royal Wedding fever took hold! I just *had* to go and experience it all for myself. I’d already got plans for the big day, (Brentford was having a mass street party – such fun!) so that left the day before to go and have a nose around at all the preparations:

Everywhere you looked, somone in a hat was talking to the worldwide media!

The atmosphere was just electric. A cliche maybe, but there’s just no other way to describe it. Walking around seeing people camped out, strangers meeting over a common interest, it just made you smile. It was a mood-lifter. There were cameras and reporters everywhere from every nationality and considering the potential security risks, access was quite open. As you’ll probably have gathered by now, I’m a bit of a TV geek, so getting a chance to see how everything was being put together was fascinating. A brief appearance on NBC’s ‘Today’ Show was unexpected but thrilling, Huw Edwards chatted with fans through a security cordon and let’s just say a wave from Phillip Schofield puts a grin on your face too.

If anything, I think the wedding restored a bit of long lost British pride for many, me included, and it might just have put ‘GB Inc.’ back in business for worldwide tourists. OK, today’s events in Pakistan might have put a dampener on things somewhat, or maybe not, depending on how you look at it. But I can only hope that come next Summer, with the Diamond Jubilee and Olympic celebrations on the cards, we’ll all be feeling the same sort of national pride that comes from your country putting on a spectacular show for the rest of the World.

You might not like the Royals, you may be of the opinion that it’s all a waste of taxpayers’ money, but one thing’s for sure, it certainly brought back that excitable spirit of my youth, and that’s something I’ll always remember. Plus, it was just a really good excuse to eat lots of cake…

Farewell Liz.

admin — Tue, 19 Apr 2011 10:46:01 +0000

19th April, 2011.

If we’re doing our jobs well, Continuity Announcers generally go un-noticed. I suppose it’s like any job really, something only normally stands out when it goes horribly wrong. Last week, I happened to make a personal reference on the end of Coronation Street; nothing out of the ordinary, just something I wanted to chuck in, and I couldn’t believe the positive response. Did I mention we mostly go un-noticed?

Beverley Callard’s exit after 21 years on the cobbles as Liz McDonald was quite a low key one really. It wasn’t a big song and dance effort stretched out over a couple of Friday night episodes. It just sort of ‘happened’ at the end of Thursday’s show. Personally, I thought it was very nicely done, with a nice hat-tip to famous exits of old, so I said so. Nothing ground-breaking and not even my best delivery really, but it obviously struck a chord with many of you, so I can only say thanks for all the positive feedback! It’s the little things I guess…. Sometimes it’s just nice to know someone’s listening!

Beverley Callard. Picture: itv.com

For once in my life…

admin — Fri, 25 Mar 2011 16:13:19 +0000

25th March, 2011.

Picture the scene; a darkened, open-air arena with an eager crowd of thousands, crammed in, craning to see the stage, aching legs and backs, everyone fighting for a view of the stage, yet nothing but some ambient dance music to keep us going. The best part of three hours we’ve been waiting here so far with nothing to do but eat and drink. Admittedly it’s a decent temperature, but there’s a definite restlessness going on and I’m starting to wonder what I’m doing here. It’s certainly not how I imagined a Friday night in the Middle East, that’s for sure…

Yet suddenly, illuminated by a solo spotlight, on walks Stevie Wonder. On his own. Completely unaided, he heads straight for the microphone with a beaming grin and starts singing. All is forgiven, this is magic, and that’s exactly what I’m here for.

Now, flying halfway round the world to watch a gig is not something I’d normally consider, I’m not an ardent ‘gigger’ generally, but let’s face it, the weather at home has been pretty grim of late and relentlessly so for a good 4-5 months and I’ve been craving a bit of sunshine. I had a few friends who were off to see Stevie Wonder in Abu Dhabi, so the rest was a no-brainer really…

I missed Stevie when he played in Hyde Park last Summer, and by all counts it was a very memorable gig. There are some performers I think you ‘have’ to see live to really appreciate just how good they are. At 60 years old, I wasn’t really sure what to expect from him, would he still ‘have it’ after all these years? As a child, I was brought up on Motown, My Cherie Amour is my parents’ ‘song’ too. Would I be left with a feeling of disappointment?

Well, nearly 3 hours of music is ultimately what we got from the man himself, an amazing achievement for any performer I’d say. Admittedly, the first hour or so was a bit self-indulgent, lots of new material and a chance for the band to stretch their musical legs. But once he hit ‘the hits’, let’s just say he had the audience eating out of the palm of his hand. There’s just a beat to his songs that gets you moving. I danced and danced, I probably sang a little too loudly for everyone else around me, but it really was, in the end, worth every penny. Seeing what that man can do with a harmonica and a set of drum sticks is extraordinary in itself!

The Yas Arena was the venue. A fairly recent addition to the ‘World Tour’ scene, and maybe a little temporary in it’s feel. But squeezed in under the shadow of ‘Ferrari World’, the largest indoor theme park on the planet, you’re always going to pale in comparison. The best seats in the house, I have a feeling, were those on board the planes flying low directly overhead. Possibly intentionally so, but if you get the chance to do something like this, grab it with both hands, you certainly won’t regret it.

Abu Dhabi itself is quite an amazing place too. It’s where big business meets the beach. If Dubai is the loud, brash, show-off big brother of the Emirates, Abu Dhabi is the quiet one in the family you really want to get to know. There’s a bit of culture and a very laid back vibe considering the strict culture you expect of the Middle East. The Guggenheim opens here next year, as does The Louvre. In fact an old friend of mine is currently in town doing Shakespeare, so variety is definitely not lacking. Ok, you don’t get the iconic showpieces that Dubai has to offer, but that’s alright. Once you’ve seen them, you’ve seen them, after all… I’m happy to settle for a town with a bit more substance than style.

So that’s what I’ve been up to for the last week. Playing around in the big sand pit! A place where they will cut a sex scene from a movie in the same cinema they’ll quite happily play a bit of I wanna sex you up by Color Me Badd! A country where the Thomas the Tank Engine theme passes for lift muzak. But variety is the spice of life and I love it here and I’m sure you would too.

Stevie Wonder: Yas Arena, Abu Dhabi. 18th March 2011.

A funny old week…

admin — Fri, 04 Feb 2011 17:45:52 +0000

4th February, 2011.

When it comes to meeting celebrities in the flesh, you know what they say; ‘Always prepare to be disappointed’. I’ve shamelessly met a fair few famous folk in my time and by and large, it’s pretty true. Not so of Mr Robin Cousins. In fact, a nicer man, you couldn’t wish to meet.

It’s no secret that I’m a bit of a Dancing on Ice fan. In fact, when that first came to our screens it was probably all the inspiration I needed to get back on the ice myself. As kids, my sister and I used to go along to the Nottingham Ice Rink on a Saturday morning you see. She had proper figure skating lessons, while I ‘mucked around’ a bit with some friends who were in the Junior Panthers, the city’s famous ice hockey team.

Torvill & Dean are from Nottingham too, you know. In fact my Aunt went to school with Jayne herself, but that’s another story… So, where was I? Oh yes, on the ice. Fellow announcer Natalie and I happened to be doing a bit of ‘mucking around’ this morning, trying to emulate a proper turn or something, when we noticed Robin Cousins was around. Being the shameless celebrity hunters we are, we had to go and say ‘Hello’. Well, it’d be rude not to, wouldn’t it. It turns out, he’d been watching us! Probably more Nat than me, she can pirouette and everything, but he very kindly offered some words of encouragement and sometimes that’s all it takes to boost the old ego….

I wouldn’t mind ‘having a go’ at Dancing on Ice myself one day, but let’s face it, I’m not really in that ‘league’ yet. Mind you, neither is Laura Hamilton, and it doesn’t seem to be stopping her…. Still, on the subject of fame, I did get a bit of press this week! Not my finest quote, it has to be said, but Broadcast decided to print one of my tweets. Does that up my fame quota above the z list? The phone doesn’t seem to be ringing just yet…

Above: With Robin Cousins at Alexandra Palace.
Right: From Broadcast, 31st Jan, 2011.

A good old East End ‘knees-up’.

admin — Sun, 26 Dec 2010 14:53:50 +0000

26th December, 2010.

Now, who’s got a bad word to say about Barbara Windsor? No one, that’s who. A ‘National Treasure’, that’s how she’s always described. Small, bubbly and with that laugh of hers, instantly infectious. I’ve always loved ‘Our Babs’, ever since I was a young boy watching Carry On movies in the school holidays. There was just an instant appeal… or two of them, you might say. But let’s not go there!

A few months ago, I got an email offering me a pair of tickets to go and see Barbara recording a radio programme with some special guests. It was billed as ‘Christmas Eve with Barbara Windsor’. I had no idea what she was going to do or who would be on the bill; I didn’t really care. Spend a night at the Hackney Empire in the company of a legend? Absolutely!

So that’s what I did; I drove right into the heart of the East End on a breezy October night and pretended it was Christmas Eve, and to quote Patricia Hodge from Miranda, it was ‘such fun’. In fact, I’m still smiling thinking about it now.

It was actually an evening dedicated to the music of Lionel Bart. Now as a kid I was in more productions of Oliver than I’d had hot dinners near enough, so this was going to be fantastic. Babs emerged to rapturous applause, as you can imagine, and after a shaky start, more down to nerves than anything else I shouldn’t wonder, she had us all eating out of the palm of her hand. For nearly two hours she told us the story of ‘her pal Lionel’ and the big impact he’d had on her life. Did you know he’d written a song just for her? No, neither did I. Emma Barton or ‘Honey’ from Eastenders sang it on this occasion, but when it came to the chorus, even Babs joined in for a verse or two and it was just magic.

I really don’t want to spoil the show for you, you can still listen to it on the BBC iPlayer, (Christmas Eve, Radio 2, 8pm) but actually being present for certain moments is something I’ll not forget in a hurry. Being read a story by the legend of Jackanory, Bernard Cribbins for one. Yes, he even wore the jumper! And hearing the one and only Russ Abbott belt out a tune, really made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. If the dictionary had to define an ‘East End knees-up’, this would most definitely be it. Closing the show with an audience sing-along was inspired too, and you know the best thing about it? Being in the front row and getting a cheeky wave from Babs. There’s a childhood ambition achieved, right there.

L-R: Bradley Walsh, Barbara Windsor, Emma Barton, Samantha Womack, Kerry Ellis, Russ Abbott, Lee Mead and Bernard Cribbins.

“Would you like another glass of Champagne, Mr Manchester?”

admin — Tue, 12 Oct 2010 23:11:39 +0000

12th October, 2010.

“Would you like another glass of Champagne, Mr Manchester?”… I’m sat, well sort of slumped really in one of those flat beds at 35,000ft on the upper deck of a 747 bound for Los Angeles. Club World, they call it, and for the first time ever it’s legit; bought, paid for and no need for a flash of the pearly whites at check-in. Well, I say bought, but really, I’ve cashed in an abundance of airmiles that were metaphorically burning a hole in my pocket. So for the price of Mr Osbourne’s compulsory air tax, here I am.

It’s my first experience of what is generally described as ‘How the other half live’ on long haul, and I have to say, you do feel a little bit special. I’ve flown business class before on European routes, but come on, a bit of extra leg room and a separating curtain don’t really count, do they?

‘Yes’, of course then, is the only suitable answer to that question, as I give a wry smile to the fact that my designated cabin attendant has read her passenger manifest and memorised my name. Is that an anti terror thing these days or is it just something they do? Who knows. Still, I guess that’s part of the business class experience… And when did we stop calling them stewardesses anyway?

I digress. Just before I left, I became curious as to how much this little bit of luxury would have cost me full price. It’s the journalist in me. How much do you pay for business class? I had absolutely no idea, but the airline’s website would definitely have the answer. Now, let’s just say that the face value price of my ticket could buy you a small car. £6000. £6000? Who in their right mind would pay £6000 for a plane fare? Thank airmiles, I’m the luckiest man in the world!

Looking around me, no-one looks particularly wealthy. I don’t spy an excess of Louis Vuitton luggage either. There’s the usual LA blonde; golden tan, all legs, probably friends with Nicole Ritchie… but everyone else seems, well, normal. The suit wearing couple from Henley might be the exception, but then they probably dressed like that in the hope of being ‘bumped up’ to first.

So what more do you get for your money that £500 down in economy won’t cover? Well, there’s the aforementioned flat bed, the seat that reclines completely horizontal. It’s not quite the plumped up hotel mattress with umpteen pillows; there are a few lumps and bumps, but I am horizontal and I do get some sleep.

There are four, count them, four windows to my left with the same number of knee-high luggage compartments, a free bag of toiletries, and a printed menu with a choice of options that’s definitely a bit more classy than ‘chicken or fish’. Disappointingly, there’s a rather lacklustre choice of entertainment options; the same as economy, I think. But the best thing by far, is that this deck holds only 16 passengers in total with an attentive crew of three. So, service at a definite premium. But is it worth it?

Well, let’s put it this way. I’ve flown this route several times before and 12 hours is the average journey time – downstairs you feel every minute of it. I’m a pretty seasoned traveler and I know how to pass the time, but there’s no escaping the fact that you’re on a plane. The kid kicking your seat from behind or the over-friendly passenger squeezed in next to you are a constant reminder after all. Today though, we’re 10 hours in and it’s been a breeze. In fact, knowing there’s only an hour or so left, I’m slightly peeved I can’t stay on for a bit longer! If it weren’t for the view and the usual cabin drone, I might even be able to forget I’m flying at all.

The fact is then, you clearly pay all that money for relaxation. The cabin is calm and I might even go so far as saying peaceful. You’re attentively served at every opportunity whilst reclined, with your feet up in your own personal space. There’s telly if you want it, power for your laptop and a toilet you won’t have to queue for, and one that smells decidedly more fragrant too.

I feel relaxed. So much so, I’m barely aware of anyone else up here. A nice little screen protects me from looking at my nearest neighbour too! It’s really been a chance to escape from life for a bit. I guess this is easily a good indication of what’s described as being ‘in a bubble’. I’ll disembark (long before the rest of the plane) feeling fresh. I’ll try not to think about the US immigration experience that waits on the other side, but at least I’ll approach it with a spring in my step and not a growl.

So that’s business class; an escape. An expensive one at that! A non-stop three course meal with real cutlery and a never empty champagne flute, a chance to lord it over everyone else for a few hours and feel entirely smug about it too. Which I did, of course…. Right up until emerging from my cosy little cocoon of calm into First Class where the bed was bigger, the telly was twice the size and I even spied a duvet. Grrr. I wonder how much you pay for that?

Why Ann Widdecombe is good for the soul…

admin — Sat, 09 Oct 2010 23:06:47 +0000

9th October, 2010.

Being employed by ‘the other side’, I feel slightly naughty spending my Saturday night ensconced in BBC TV Centre, but hey-ho, there’s a ticket to Strictly in my pocket and they’re like gold dust these days. So donning the suit and a big grin, off we go to Studio One.

Reality TV amongst my friends is a bit like marmite. There are those that would give their right arm to be my plus one, whilst others gently deride me for wasting precious hours on some ‘poncing about on the telly’. Responses to my facebook status tell me all I need to know!

It’s no secret that I’m a bit of a TV geek; so getting to see how a big prime time show like this is put together is quite thrilling. OK, time to own up, I’ve been before. In fact, I sang to the audience last time I was here, with Zoe Ball egging me on. But that’s another shameless showbiz story…*

I think the problem with shows like Strictly these days is that they’ve turned into big business. They’re international franchises now and everyone wants a part of them. The glory days of unpredictable live TV are mere memories. On Air, it’s slick, professional; it glides from section to section like a professional dancer. You could just as easily be watching something recorded from earlier and you’d never know it. Everyone knows what to expect and change is not appreciated.

So why do I want to see it? Well, the true joy of sitting in the live studio is getting a good old-fashioned warm-up from Brucie. Noticing that Gavin Henson spends more time watching himself in the monitors than practicing his steps. Seeing Len get all narky at Craig during the VT’s. It’s just magic, and for one night only, you’re access all areas where 13 million others would love to be.

Sitting in the studio, it’s electric. A cliché yes, but true. My friend and I are in the ‘friends of celebrities’ section, just behind Jimi Mistri’s mum! She’s very nice. Everyone around us knows how lucky they are to be here, and if our phones hadn’t been confiscated at the door, I’m sure the social networks would be getting a battering, not to mention a quick call to Auntie Val to let her know that ‘it looks much smaller than it does on the telly.’

This week, it’s Ann Widdecombe who steals the show. Waiting to come in, all talk is of this promised ‘sizzling salsa’. I’m expecting John Sargeant in a dress…. The dancing’s hopeless, of course, but you just can’t help but smile with her. For a few hours, you’re whisked away to a world of showbiz and you come out beaming. I suppose the same can be said of sitting at home watching too, but in my house, there are just too many distractions…

It’s theatre by another name; it’s just that in this case, you get to see what happens backstage too. It’s all right there, nothing’s hidden away. The ‘fabulous Dave Arch and his wonderful orchestra’ are even better to the naked ear. No dodgy sound mix can hide that. I’m even more impressed by the singers, who can sometimes grate on me when I’m watching at home. But really, it’s all about Widdy; a politician I’ve not been able to stomach for as long as I can remember. I’m cheering her on. I’m applauding as she enters; I’m craning to see what she’s up to on the floor. Who’d have thought?

It’s the good old British spirit I guess. Everyone loves an underdog. To hell with the real competition, this is what we really want; an overweight politician making a fool of herself in sequins! I’m sure she’ll be here for many more weeks to come, and good on her. We might differ somewhat in our political opinions, but from now on, I might just give her that little bit more respect.

Do I still feel guilty about being on ‘the other side’? Well, I bumped into Gail Platt in the canteen and she’s about as ITV as it comes.

* Tip: This one needs alcohol!