A Pleasant Meeting With The Canadian Ambassador For Japan

Last Saturday, I had the pleasure of attending a party at the Tokyo Canadian Embassy. Present, was His Excellency Ambassador, Jonathan T. Fried, who recently moved over to Japan.

From 2003 to 2006, he was Senior Foreign Policy Advisor to Canada’s Prime Minister, Paul Martin, and Head of the Canada-U.S. Secretariat. He was also the Executive Director for Canada, Ireland and the Caribbean for the IMF.

El-Branden Brazil (left) and Ambassador Jonathan T. Fried (right).

The Mystic Traveller Sings With Bono & U2

It has been a good year. In fact, it has been a very good year, musically, for the Mystic Traveller. In March, I was given a ticket to see The Rolling Stones. Next, I was on the guest list, two nights running, at The Pogues' concerts in Tokyo, and got to hang out with the band afterwards. Yes, it has been a great year. How could such a year get any better? Perhaps an evening with U2...?

When I heard that U2 were coming to Tokyo, I contacted some new friends I had made at The Pogues, and asked if they could get me backstage access to this legendary band. Unsurprisingly, it was impossible at this time. Bands really don't come bigger than U2, but it was worth a try.

I contacted my rock chick friend, Tomoko, who I knew would be able to get hold of a last minute audience ticket for me. And indeed, within a few hours of asking, I received a wonderful phone call informing me that I would be attending on 4th December, at Saitama Stadium.

Tomoko warned me that the ticket may not provide the best spot in the massive stadium, but I didn't care, because I was going to at least hear U2 live. That is nothing to grumble about.

When I arrived at the venue, the place thronged with crowds queuing to enter. Being somewhat spoilt by my Pogues' experience, where I didn't have to line-up, I decided to just head my own way to the entrance. It was pretty straight forward, as the staff seemed quite overwhelmed.

As I headed for the correct gateway, I befriended a Canadian, who was equally as confused as I about the system they were using to organise the crowds. Finally, we found our way inside the stadium ground, where we both had standing tickets.

The location was very far from the stage and behind a dense crowd of tall Japanese fans. My new Canadian friend soon discovered that he was in the wrong place, and should be in the section nearer the stage, where the more expensive tickets were.

Now, this got me thinking, just may be, I might be able to snuck through the ushers, and get myself a prime bit of Bono estate. So, instead of putting up with my dire situation, which Tomoko had warned me about, I followed my Canadian friend. As I approached the gate, I flashed my ticket confidently at the ushers and walked in, finding myself standing right next to the stage!

The excitement was now building evermore, and it was enhanced further by the enthusiasm of an American traveller, who has been traipsing the globe to see as many of U2's concerts as he could. He had just seen them in Auckland, New Zealand and Sydney, Australia.

To my relief, I was informed by my American friend that there would be no support band: I was not there for some sub-league music. I was there for Bono and The Edge.

Finally, the lights dimmed and the crowd erupted, with my heart dancing with the incredible energy all around. I cannot believe that it is only recently that I have discovered the magic of "THE BIG MUSIC CONCERT". I am now hooked.

I get a nudge from my American super fan friend. He points to the stage right next to me, and there is Bono, only a few feet away, walking up with a Japanese flag over his shoulder. The crowd screams and jumps out of control, and I'm there with them.

I wanted to go to the toilet just before the start, but there was no way that I was going to miss a second of this. The wall of light that surrounded the stage was now thrumming in synch with the music and I was totally hypnotised.

The concert set comprised of all the old favourites and some of their recent releases. Of course, they were also interspersed with Bono's worthy political statements. During a performance of Sunday, Bloody Sunday, Bono donned a headscarf printed with a reproduction of a graffiti message he had seen in Lebanon. It read: Co-Exist. The "C" was written as a crescent moon, the "X" as a Star of David, and the "T" as a crucifix. It got thunderous support from the crowd.

As Bono sang the set with an immaculate performance that matched any of his recordings, I found myself singing my voice box almost out of my throat. Now, I have no shame in admitting that I have done my fair share of U2 renditions at karaoke in Tokyo, so it was an automatic reaction I had to throttle a few notes with Bono leading.

Contradicting the expectation of my fans (well, mates who attend my "karaoke concerts"), Bono did not call me up to the stage to sing a duet of With Or Without You. It would have been great for me, but less so for Bono! Well, I didn't want to steal his thunder!!!

The band finished with two encore sets. By this point, I just wanted them to play and play throughout the night. Finally, the magic retreated and I returned back to my world.

Visit Amnesty International's Website.
*I apologise for the poor quality photographs. They were taken with my mobile phone.

A Brief Encounter With Trevor Howard

Trevor Howard and Celia Johnson in David Lean's classic,
Brief Encounter (1945)

When I was 16 years old, my agent called and offered me a couple of days work on the television drama, Miss Marple. By this point, I had started having an aversion to appearing in period dramas set in the early half of the 20th. Century, because it always entailed having to have a short, back and sides haircut, which was particularly unwelcome for a teenage boy trying to be current in the 1980s! I did once have an outburst with a make-up artist on the period production, The House Of Elliot, when she seemed to be going out of her way to lose me street cred.

Apart from the loss of hair, which has since naturally occurred, it was fun to work on these productions. To dress as our relatives of the past once did, and to walk about sets designed to invoke days long gone, always offered many interesting insights.

The episode of Miss Marple that I appeared in, was being guest starred by the fine British actress, Helen Cherry. I had no idea who her husband was, until someone on the catering bus pointed out a shuffling, stooping old man, wearing the sort of hat that fishing hobbyists like. He looked battered by years of drinking and bad health.

Someone announced that it was Trevor Howard, which was met with some scorns of doubt. Could this man be the great character actor, who had starred in such films as Brief Encounter, The Third Man, Charge Of The Light Brigade, Mutiny On The Bounty, Ryan's Daughter and The Battle Of Britain? Indeed, it was.

Trevor Howard belongs in the highest echelons of British cinema. He stands shoulder to shoulder with such great luminaries as Lawrence Olivier, Richard Burton, Richard Harris, John Mills and Ralph Richardson. However, seeing this frail old man was startling. It was difficult to imagine that he was the same dapper star that had appeared in so many classics, with a fiery reputation for creating turmoil on set.

I feel ashamed to admit this now, but in my youth I collected autographs. For a child, who had many opportunities to meet the famous, it was fun to collect those silly pieces of paper with ink scrawled upon them. In hindsight, it is a very odd thing to collect. However, this was an excuse for me to approach Howard, who was sitting in his small car, seeming to be staring out at nothing. I felt some trepidation, because he was infamous for being extremely difficult.

I approached his car, dressed in my 50's costume, and tapped on the side window. He opened the door and looked at me. I asked him very politely if he would be kind enough to sign the piece of paper I had in my hand. He didn't say anything, but graciously he wrote his name and passed the paper back to me. I thanked him, and that was where our brief encounter ended.

Sadly, Trevor Howard died shortly afterwards in 1988. His wife, Helen Cherry, followed him in 2001.

For a biography visit Turner's Films.

Dinner With The Bhutan Ambassador To Japan, India & Nepal

Left: El-Branden Brazil with
His Excellency Dago Tshering.

As someone with a deep passion for Tibetan Buddhism, I have always been drawn to the Himalayas. It is, without question, one of my favourite regions in the world. Whilst I have visited both India and Nepal, one country in particular, that has always held a fascination for me, is the nation of Bhutan.

Last night, I was given an opportunity to attend a dinner party with His Excellency Dago Tshering, who is the Bhutan Ambassador to Japan, India and Nepal. His residency is in New Delhi, India.

Bhutan is a landlocked land, that sits between the great powers of China and India. In comparison to its neighbours' massive populations, only 700,000 people occupy Bhutan.

Bhutan is a country that has strived admirably to retain its traditions, untainted by outside influences. The King of Bhutan has been promoting policies that protect the culture, but also develop the country, so that it can become a viable member within the global community.

The Ambassador informed us that part of this development programme, is the introduction of a multi-party political system, which will be established in 2008. At this point, the King will rescind the powers that he currently retains, and a new king will be selected. The reason for such a radical change of governance, stems from the King's dedication to the welfare and happiness of his people. Unlike other countries, which focus mainly on Gross National Profit (GNP), Bhutan prioritises what it calls Gross National Happiness (GNH).

To achieve its aims for generating happiness, four pillars of policy are in place: 1. Sustainable and equitable socio-economic development, which provides free health care and education to all, as well as national projects that provide employment opportunities. 2. Protection of the environment. 3. Preservation and promotion of culture. 4. Good governance that retains the people's interests first.

This refreshing approach has been of interest to many policy makers across the globe, with even Britain's Chancellor of the Exchequer, Gordon Brown, considering its implications for improving people's lives. It is certainly a very Buddhist approach, which is not surprising, as Bhutan is defined by a very strong Buddhist culture.

As the evening continued, I had the pleasure of listening to two classical Bhutanese musicians. My Japanese friends were extremely surprised at how it resembled the sound of traditional Japanese music. Certainly, there is some sharing of culture between Bhutan and Japan, that probably occurred with the spreading of Mahayana Buddhism across the Asian continent.

Recently, I have been very interested in perhaps finding work in Bhutan, as I have a wish to develop my own understanding of Buddhism further. I mentioned this to the Ambassador, and he informed me that there are many Buddhist teachers, willing to take on students.

The Ambassador was a charming man, and it was an honour and a delight to speak with him.

The Mystic Traveller Meets The Pogues Part 2

The Pogues do their stuff.
Photography by Lee Chapman

I am buzzing! This is not a drug-induced buzz. This is the buzz that comes from divine joy. The weather is again dreadful, and I find myself back at the Shibuya AX. The weather doesn't matter.

I go through the same routine at the guest entrance, and as promised, my name is on the list. How lovely of Louise and Spider to allow me such a wonderful opportunity! I feel extremely appreciative towards them.

When I return to the auditorium, I spot a few familiar faces among those many who are not. There's the guy with the long pony tail, glasses and camera. Oh, there's the guy with short white hair, and a wistful grin continually on his face. There's the nice, ever-so slightly overweight fan. An interesting group of people, with a love for a little bit of Poguish mayhem.

The energy is increasing as more and more people come into the concert hall. I'm trying to contact some people on my mobile, but the building seems to be possessed by forces determined to stop me. I give-up.

I am joined by two friends. One has been a fan of The Pogues for many years. He had seen the band without Shane MacGowan, so this is his first time to see them reunited with their erstwhile foil. He's pretty chuffed that I got him a backstage pass. He should be, as there are hundreds of people in that hall that would do anything for the opportunity.

The lights have now blacked out, and the audience is humming with excitement. It seems more tangible tonight. As the band comes on, there is a significant eruption of cheering. Shane wanders out, and seems much more sober than he had done the night before. He's now wearing an Irish football shirt, with what looks like a blim burn at the bottom of it. He looks fantastic.

Spider, dressed in a collarless shirt, is leaping about and slapping his whistle against his leg with great energy. He, like the other members, are obviously feeding off the exceptional energy that is radiating from tonight's audience, who are clapping, slapping, jiving, jigging, singing, hugging and screaming.

While Shane is singing, his mic has just cut-out. He's smiling and signalling the crew in the wings to do something. The audience is cheering enthusiastically, as Shane stares down at them and shrugs his shoulders. He is a jewel: A wonderfully rare man, who need not change a thing. He shines on that stage. Finally, the mic he is holding comes back on, and they restart the song.

I find myself getting rather emotional when they perform one of my favourite songs, 'Dirty Old Town'. Together, we sing the chorus, as Shane spits out the song with all that gravel, dirt, phlegm and pain that makes his voice so unique and special. It is a magnificent performance.

As the concert comes to a close, I feel sad that my adventure into rockdom is also coming to an end. It has been an extraordinary journey the past two days, with so many unexpected surprises.

We are ushered back to the same small dressing room as before. It's busier tonight. I bump into an old Australian friend, who I haven't seen for many years. We both ask each other how we got backstage. His is not official, and I am amazed at his moxie for succeeding to get pass the security without a pass. A Japanese man comes over to him and praises his shirt showcasing a Japanese band, called The Howling Wolves. My friend responds that he is a fan of the band. The Japanese man starts to laugh, and points out that the guy standing next to them is the drummer from that band!

James Fearnley, The Pogues' energetic accordion player, comes and sits down with us. He seems pleased to be chatting with my two friends, who are also from the North of England. He's a very down-to-earth guy, who has been living in LA for the past 16 years.

Spider and Louise come in briefly and say hi. Spider apologises that he has to hurry tonight, because he has a dinner party to attend with the other band members. I say to him that we must stay in contact. He agrees, and I think we will. I definitely will see them again in Japan at some point. I thank them for their kindness and tell him to give my brother a hug for me in LA.

As we are leaving, some fans who had snuck backstage are being forcefully thrown out. They seem drunk and none too pleased. We leave shortly after the dispute is sorted, and head out into the stormy night and back to reality.

The Mystic Traveller Meets The Pogues Part 1

Left: El-Branden Brazil with the legendary Spider Stacy.
Photography by Tomoko Yoshizawa

I'm finally going to see The Pogues. It's raining heavily, and the audience is waiting patiently under umbrellas for the Shibuya AX concert hall to open.

I'm feeling a little nervous, because I have been told that I'm on the guest list, via e-mails from my brother in LA, whose friend, Paul, is mates with Spider Stacy. However, it all seems a little tenuous, and I consider that may be my effort to get there on such a nasty, wet evening may turn out to be either embarrassing or a waste of time, if I am not on the list.

The doors finally open and the crowds rush in. I head to the entrance for the guests, feeling a little smug for jumping the lines. A Japanese man at a table looks up at me, and I say in Japanese: Spider no tomodachi desu. (I'm Spider's friend.) I then give him my name, and he scans a list. I am on a surprisingly short list, and I feel chuffed, honoured and excited. He then hands me a pass, that will allow me to the aftershow party. I'm floating into the auditorium, thinking to myself that me...yes, the Mystic Traveller, is going to be meeting a band I have loved for years.

The Pogues were founded in 1982, combining traditional Irish sounds with the rebelliousness and energy of Punk; a scene which many of the members had started out in.

Perhaps their most famous song is the gorgeously gruff, 'The Fairy Tale Of New York', which was performed with the late, great Kirsty MacColl. It captures, like so much of their music, the romantic spirit that can be found on the street. There is something honest, true, unpretentious and beautiful in their music.

In Zen, mistakes in art are perceived for their own innate beauty, and the extraordinarily unique voice of Shane MacGowan highlights this no better. This is not the voice of a trained vocalist, but this is the voice of a man freely sharing his pain and joy in equal measure for the world to hear. It is mesmerising, rich and magnificent.

MacGowan has been called one of the most influential songwriter poets in the last thirty years. His problems with substance abuse have sometimes shadowed attention from his creative successes. I believe that it is from his choice of lifestyle that he has been able to create such a body of work. This is a man who lives life's vices to the full, so that he can explore an aspect of humanity that many of us would fear to tread. He once said: 'The most important thing to remember about drunks is that drunks are far more intelligent than non-drunks. They spend a lot of time talking in pubs, unlike workaholics who concentrate on their careers and ambitions, who never develop their higher spiritual values, who never explore the insides of their head like a drunk does.'

The lights in the hall have now turned off and the crowd is cheering and clapping. A young Japanese man, dressed in early Pogues' fashion, takes a swig of liquor from a small silver hip flask, and decides to make a push for the front.

Finally, the band members walk out, and the crowd screams. Spider, the tin whistle maestro and sometimes lead singer, speaks out to the crowd in Japanese, which receives even more cheering. Shane MacGowan makes a grand entrance by just being himself. He shuffles out, clearly heavily intoxicated on gin, which he has a full cup of in his hand. He grips on to the mic and performs a miracle that lasts the entire concert.

I smile with joy as I am drawn into The Pogues' world - a positive world, where happiness exists in the most unexpected places.

When the concert ends, the crowds filter out, and I am joined by my good friend, Tomoko, who arrived late from her work. She had given me a ticket for The Rolling Stones, so it was a pleasure to return the favour.

We wait out in the foyer with the other guests, not knowing what to expect. An usher guides us back stage and we enter a small dressing room. Immediately, Spider's fiancee, Louise, comes up to me: 'You're Paul's mate, aren't you?' I say I am, even though I have never met my brother's good friend. We get offered something to drink, and she goes off to get Spider.

Some of the band members come in and chat warmly with us. Shane is not to be seen, and I think he has other pressing concerns than meeting strangers. Spider comes in and shakes hands with another English guest, asking if he is Paul's friend. The guy says he is, although I know he isn't, but then, neither am I, but...I guess I am now. (Paul, I owe you a big drink back in the UK, mate.)

Spider then comes over and we sit down for a chat. He is extremely friendly and a pleasure to talk with. We discuss about his time in Japan, which he says has the best audience in the world. We talk about his wedding plans in Las Vegas, while they will be touring in the US. My brother will be meeting them in LA, next month.

After half an hour of chat, I decide that it is time to leave and let them recover. I thank Spider for his kindness in allowing me to come to the show, and he asks if I would like to see it again tomorrow. I reply that I would most definitely. So, I am buzzing with the excitement for another taste of the rock 'n' roll life.

As I leave through the stage door, several fans are lingering outside behind a fence. One shouts out to me, asking if I can get him access to Shane. I explain to him that I cannot. Another Japanese couple say 'hello', with gooey grins on their faces. They are staring into the room where I had been with Spider, and they obviously think I am a "somebody", when really I am an absolute nobody. I chuckle to myself and walk back to Harajuku station, with the memories distracting my awareness of the heavy rain that is falling.

Part 2 Coming Shortly - The Second Pogues' Concert

An Evening With The Turkish Ambassador

Right: El-Branden Brazil with the Turkish Ambassador to Japan.

Photography by Peter Fujiyama

Last night, I had the pleasure and honour of attending a party at the Turkish Embassy in Tokyo, arranged by Her Excellency, Ambassador Solmaz Unaydin.

We were continually supplied with Turkish wine, which was surprisingly good, as well as a delicious buffet of traditional Turkish dishes.

There was an unintentionally amusing moment in the evening, when a presentation about Turkey became a farce, due to failure of the powerpoint projector. A poor assistant to the ambassador was placed in the uncomfortable position of having to read out the driest of notes, reeling out statistics and figures that became nothing but noise, without visual aids.

Towards the end of the evening, a belly dancer entertained us. Madam Ambassador was quite a dancer herself, when she was called up by the performer.

I also managed to win a lovely Turkish china pot in a raffle. I had hoped to win the free airline tickets to Turkey! A very lucky woman went away with "my" prize. I did wonder that may be she would like a swap!!!

It was an extremely pleasant evening, and an honour to spend time with such fine company.

The Name's Claus... Santa Claus

When I was visiting southern India, during Christmas of 2004, I was a witness to an event that has become the stuff of legends, and changed my life completely.

Cruising along the backwaters of Kerala, my attention was drawn to a flash of red and white on one of the many boats that journey up and down the river. Quickly, I grabbed my camera and caught shots that the News Of The World labelled, "SENSATIONAL"!

For many children, Santa Claus is the deliverer of gifts. For me, however, his other job is far shadier. He is, in fact, an international man of mystery.

For several years now, I have been tracking down this elusive man of myth, and discovered that not only is he a gift giver, but also a real life James Bond. My research has led me to believe that he works for the Lapland spy agency, I.M.P.S. (International Mission for the Protection of Secrets).

One can only imagine what top secret missions he is on as we speak. A CIA friend of mine, informed me that Father Christmas had infiltrated al Qaeda, and was providing a lot of valuable information.

With great pleasure, I present images of The Jovial Prince of Secrets at work whilst undercover:

Kerala Backwaters
Photography by El-Branden Brazil

The Rolling Stones In Tokyo

The Rolling Stones At The Tokyo Dome
Photography By El-Branden Brazil

Throughout my life, there has been one rock band that has been a perennial presence - The Rolling Stones. I have never bought a Rolling Stones CD, but I have always loved their music, sense of rebellion and their gigantic personas that have only continued to become ever larger as their faces have become craggier.

Since the early Sixties, the Stones have been a solid fixture of the music scene. And while a few of the members should have expired decades ago, due to their infamous decadence and excess, they continue today to entertain like nobody else.

When I was ten years old, reading an issue of the classic Seventies occult magazine, Fate & Fortune, I came across an image of Mick Jagger dressed in blue leotards in an article exploring the connection between Rock music and Satanism. The Stone's Sympathy For The Devil, no doubt helped to fuel such fanciful speculation. And no doubt, The Stones lapped up every ounce of controversy and infamy that was attributed to them

I never imagined, when I was that little boy, that some 24 years after reading the article, I would find myself in a gigantic baseball stadium in Tokyo to experience the sheer magic for myself, thanks to the generosity of a good Japanese friend of mine, who kindly gave me a ticket.

Tokyo Dome is a massive hollow structure, famous for the bands that play there, but infamous for the acoustics. Huge numbers of people swarmed all over the thousands of seats. We were very lucky to have a wonderful position close to the left side of the stage.

As soon as I saw the stage and rigging, my heart pulsed with excitement. I had seen many live gigs before, but I had never been to a giant concert. Many years ago, I watched a Stones concert from the Eighties on television. That played in my mind, as I anticipated the good fortune I had to now see them in three dimensional space with my own eyes.

The support band was adequate, although I had no idea who they were. They failed to ignite the atmosphere, and I feared that may be the venue would also diminish the Stones.

After an hour break, the lights were turned off and the crowds started yelling and screaming, instantly engulfing me in an excitement I have never felt before. Ronnie Wood was the first to appear, followed by the other members. It is no exaggeration to report that the Mystic Traveller was having a religious experience!

For two hours, a psychedelic lightshow transcended us all upon a wave of classic and modern Rolling Stones' music. The band are all now in their sixties, but still retain the energy of their youth.

Keith Richards, who is a miracle for surviving at all, lithely slithered around like an incredibly sensual gekko; crawling and leaping upon the stage, as his guitar took aim with his always present contemptuous nonchalance.

In the meantime, Mick Jagger raced and jived continually up and down the stage, like a man who has never had his age revealed to him. I continually marvelled at the fitness that he has sustained.

What occurred to me throughout the concert was how privileged I was to see them. For nearly half a century, these men have entertained and influenced us all in someway. Yes, they are only human, but how easily they manipulated me into believing that they were something superhuman for the duration of two hours. Such enormous charisma indeed is something to behold.

While they fight the aging process with vigourous rock 'n' roll disdain, there is unfortunately only a finite period of time in which we can have the chance to witness these characters in all their magnificence.

Perhaps the most memorable moment of the evening was provided by Keith Richards. Prior to arriving in Japan, there had been some controversy regarding whether he could smoke on stage or not, due to Japanese fire prevention laws.

During the show, Richards walked up to the mic to begin a short solo performance, with his trademark cigarette dangling from his mouth. He took a good solid drag, smiled at the audience, and in absolutely classic form, threw the burning cigarette down on to the stage, to which the audience gasped approvingly. Now that is what Rock is all about!

For photographs and a review from the Japanese newspaper, Mainichi Daily News, CLICK HERE!

El-Branden Brazil (aged 14), with Ray Winstone on the television show, Robin Of Sherwood, in 1985.

Working On A Japanese Movie

Throughout my teens, I was lucky enough to work on a variety of British television and film productions. As a result, I got to meet many accomplished actors and filmmakers. I never could have imagined that someday I would work at a studio in the Land Of The Rising Sun.

Last year, I was given an opportunity to work on a Japanese film, called The Collage Of Our Life, as a dialogue coach to the increasingly famous young actor, Ryuhei Matsuda. It was a fascinating experience, which allowed me to contrast a Japanese set to a Western one.

Ryuhei is a delightful actor to work with. He was only 19 at the time, but a total professional. His father was the hugely popular Japanese actor, Yasuko Matsuda, who unfortunately died, aged 40.

Ryuhei's character was required to speak English for large portions of the movie. This was a major task for him, because he speaks virtually no English at all. Each day, I would either arrive on location or head out to Nikatsu Studios, where I would coach him in pronunciation and intonation. We had a lot of fun in the process, although months of further practice would have been beneficial.

When I was called to work on the production, I was both excited and nervous, because I was not sure of the dynamic of production here in Japan. However, both the cast and crew were charming and embracing. I felt entirely comfortable, and sensed no difference in production style to Britain, other than a general lack of theatrical egos.

A highlight of working on this film, occurred when I arrived early at the studios one day. The assistant director's office was locked, so while I waited for her to come, I sat on some steps outside, reading my newspaper. Suddenly, a large group of extras, dressed in full Samurai regalia, walked passed me to whatever set they were filming on. It was a wonderful reminder that I was working within a totally different cultural environment.

During my final days on the production, I was required to join Ryuhei at the sound studio, for the recording of the film's narration. The two of us sat in the sound booth, while the assistant director and engineers sat outside. Unfortunately, on one particular day, I had a terrible stomach that insisted on making hideous gurgle sounds. Of course, I blamed Ryuhei each time the engineers complained about picking up weird extraneous noises!

When I finally saw the movie, I must admit that I was disappointed by the confused tone of the direction, screenplay, pace and performances. The film did not seem to know what it was: One minute a silly, slapstick Japanese comedy, whilst the next, a mystery thriller.

As for Ryuhei's English, I was cringing throughout the long, long one and a half hours. He is a fantastic guy and a very talented actor, but months of further dialogue coaching would have improved his performance no end. However, I think he was very courageous to take on the challenge, and I would not have wanted to have done the same in Japanese.

Here's the movie's website: http://www.c-o-o-l.jp/index2.html

Don't Mess With My Tutu!

El-Branden Brazil Backstage On The
Production Of 'Swan Lake'

Many years ago, I was employed to work for the Birmingham Ballet Company and The Royal Ballet Company, as an actor. Having been a professional performer from the age of ten, I was very excited to have the opportunity to experience working for these prestigious companies.

Apart from a very brief stint of ballet lessons, at the ripe old age of three, I had absolutely no skill in the pirouette to contribute to any professional production. However, both ballet and opera productions require professional actors to support the dancers, either working as background movement or as small featured roles. The opportunity provides no chance of fame, but it does allow a wonderful insight into the workings of a ballet production from behind-the-scenes.

The first I worked on, was Cinderella for the Birmingham Ballet Company. In this particular production, I had the respectable role of 'Footman'. This required me to don 18th. Century attire, as well as a short powdered wig. There was some responsibility, as I had to be on cue to open the door on Cinderella's coach, as she arrived for the Prince's ball.

Timing is crucial, as the orchestra stops for no one. Unfortunately, on the first night, I forgot that the coach's door handle needed to be pushed up, rather than the more natural action of down. I could hear from the wings, the stage manager screaming, "UP!!! UP!!!", and Cinderella, looking so graceful, whispering, "Get the fucking door open!" Finally, after what seemed like minutes, but was actually seconds, the door opened, and Cinderella leapt out to catch-up with her missed cues.

People have many misconceptions about ballet dancers. The first is that they are incredibly fit. In so many ways they are, but it seemed ironic to catch the ballet dancers coming off stage, bent over and exhausted, but immediately lighting up a cigarette to "clear" the lungs.

The second misconception, is that they are snobby, serious and distant. Nothing could be further from the truth. On the production of Swan Lake I worked on, for the Royal Ballet Company at the Bristol Hippodrome, it was difficult to keep a straight face on the stage.

In one scene, I played a lord arriving at the Swan Queen's ball in the Second Act. After entering and bowing nobly to the Queen, I then had to spend a torturous ten minutes, standing stoically in the background. This should have been a simple task, had it not been for the ballet dancers' insatiable desire to make me laugh by pulling silly faces, as they pirouetted by!

Pat Roach Has Died.

Pat Roach & El-Branden (14)

Pat Roach was a regular heavy in the Indiana Jones movies. In the first film, he played both a Sherpa and the bald-headed Nazi who has a nasty end in an airplane propeller. In the second film, he appeared as the giant Indian slave driver, who ends up crushed in a rock grinder. They weren't huge parts, but Pat became a part of the Indiana Jones formula. On top of these appearances, he was one of the leading characters in the British comedy, Auf Weidersen Pet.

I met Pat Roach when I was a teenager on the shoot for an American production, called Three Wishes For Jamie. The film starred the respected actor, Jack Warden, and Pat had a supporting role. At the time, I was a huge Indiana Jones fan, so it was a real delight to spend three days filming with him. On one occasion, he was relaxing between takes, and so I went over and joined him for a chat about Spielberg, Ford and the making of the movies. He was very pleasant, although I got the impression that he felt his star was slightly brighter than it actually was.

The photograph above, was taken on the set of Three Wishes. Did I really ever look so young?