Life and Laughing_ My Story - Michael McIntyre [70]
My Spitfire was now not only leaking petrol but also brake fluid, so I would have to fill up on both several times a journey. The studio was in Bow, and I was running so late that I didn’t have time to fill up the brake fluid. When I arrived the brakes were so soft I sailed fifty yards past the crew entrance and finally stopped at the artists’ entrance. There were about a hundred models arriving, and I was mistaken for one. I think it was more the car than my face, or maybe my coat. My grandmother had given me one of my grandfather’s old coats. It was a very expensive black pure cashmere overcoat. I loved it and hardly ever took it off. I certainly didn’t look like your average ‘runner’.
I should really have said something. I was late, I was in trouble, there would have been people looking for me, I was badly needed on the shoot, but before I knew it, I was whisked into a communal dressing room surrounded by naked models. NAKED MODELS! Naked models who seemed to be flirting with me a bit. One girl asked me to help her out of her dress! She moved her long dark hair to one side as I unzipped this gorgeous woman from behind.
‘Michael!’ cried Jenny, one of the production assistants who was organizing the extras. ‘What are you doing? Everyone’s looking for you!’
‘Sorry, I was just helping …’ I scooted out, leaving behind a half-zipped beauty and returned to my actual job of production slave.
News of my indiscretion travelled throughout the production, and all but a few found it hilarious, and most of the male crew congratulated me on being a bit of a stud. But my out-of-control antics were soon to jeopardize my job.
Partizan was becoming quite successful, mainly due to one of their directors, Michel Gondry, who was and is a phenomenally creative Frenchman. He would go on to direct one of my favourite films, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, starring Jim Carrey, and indeed win an Oscar for it. So the company started to diversify and produce commercials directed by Michel. For me, this only meant that I would be delivering and picking up packages from advertising agencies as well as record companies. Very kindly, Pete occasionally allowed me to drive his company Mercedes when on these deliveries.
On the day in question, I was delivering a package to the agency Saatchi & Saatchi. Saatchi & Saatchi was run by brothers Charles and Maurice Saatchi. While sitting in traffic, en route, I heard on the radio that Maurice Saatchi was leaving the agency. ‘That’s interesting,’ I thought, ‘I’m on my way there now.’ So I listened closely to the news about how he was being ousted from the company and would probably start a new one. The big question seemed to be, would his major clients like British Airways follow him.
When I arrived at Saatchi & Saatchi, it was a media circus. Outside the main entrance were cameras, news teams, reporters. I was only dropping off a package, so I double-parked the car and ran in unnoticed. On the way out, however, all the cameras, lights and reporters focused on me, standing on the steps of Saatchi & Saatchi in my expensive cashmere coat.
‘What do you think the future is for Saatchi & Saatchi?’ I was asked, mistaken for an advertising exec.
Well, you see, they asked me a question, so I chose to answer it. I was filled with all the information I had just heard on the radio and said, ‘I don’t think there is much of a future.’
Obviously, everybody else had been saying, ‘No comment’, because as soon as I spoke, there was a media scrum surrounding me, microphones were thrust into my face from all angles, BBC, Sky News, ITN, etc.
‘Maurice was the lifeblood of this agency,’ I continued, repeating exactly what