INSIDE MASTERMIND - The Filming

Filming day arrives.  I have crammed in just about everything I can manage.  There is no capacity for any more, I’ve done what I can.  What is inside my head at this point is it.  I am now in the lap of the question gods and my inner resources in the moment.   

Three friends and son Sam are coming along to support me as part of the audience.  I am grateful for this, more than they can ever imagine.  Brett is competing in a surf tournament in New Plymouth.   He’s allowed.  He’s doing what he loves, down country, and I’m doing something I never, for a moment, dreamt I would be doing.  I’m not a surfer or water-babe but, right now, the thought of facing a giant wave seems less daunting than what I am about to do.

I have no idea how the next few hours will unfold.  With a vision of cameras and questions and darkness and me in the middle of it all under a spotlight, I try not to think about what might happen.   Will I make a fool of myself, will I trip over on my way to that sacred chair, will the answers get stuck in my head and not come out when required? 

I try to lose the pessimistic thoughts and start to think of what it might be like to win.  I am jolted back to reality from these fleeting thoughts based on fantasy.   The prize is the chair and a rather large and lovely glass trophy.  I have no space for either.

The first dilemma of the day is what to wear.  No stripes or patterns that might strobe.  Black will just blend into the chair. White will stand out far too much.  I realise most of my wardrobe is patterned and colourful, or black or white.  Unlike most sensible people, I have put no thought into this until this morning.  I choose a dress (less patterned), a jacket (black) and a pair of shoes that won’t trip me up, and off I go.  I leave behind several discarded options flung across the bed.

I turn up at the Clock Tower at the University, where filming is to take place.  Two heats were filmed yesterday, three today and three more tomorrow.  Eight heats in total – 32 contenders preparing to sit in the chair.  It is early afternoon and it is a very warm day. 

Once in the Green Room I’m introduced to Ian the journalist, Mark the canoe operator and Simone the debt management officer (who used to be Simon).  My fellow contenders, the ones I will compete against.  Four human beings cast together on the premise that we know stuff. 

I also meet the four contenders in the heat before mine who are preparing to go into filming.  I feel for them.  But I feel for me more.  I still have some waiting and angst to do.  Their waiting and angst is over.  For them, it’s now game-on, no going back.  They are almost over the threshold.  

The Green Room is a large boardroom, there is nothing intimate and cosy here.  We chat away about nothing in particular as the sun shines brightly outside.  We talk about how nervous we are, except for Ian who appears quite cool, calm and collected.  He’s been on Mastermind before.  He made the semi-finals in the 1990 season.  He therefore has a huge head-start.  Huge.  He also has a rather small specialist subject.  It is finite.  I realise the magnitude of mine – David Bowie, for god’s sake.  It’s a life without end, even when he’s dead.  I console myself with the thought I would much rather be familiar with Bowie’s genius than Bart’s antics.  I wish I had chosen a block of years, or a period of music or maybe just his last two albums.  Too late now, I have taken on Bowie from start to finish.

Mark is doing the novels of Nevil Shute.  I don’t think I’ve ever read one of his books.  Mark has read each of them dozens of times.  Simone is doing the four big Shakespeare tragedies.  That’s big.  The two of us grimace at the scale of what we’ve taken on.

All this is not helping my state of mind. 

I open my Bowie folder and my eyes run over some facts and info.  They take nothing in and I realise it’s a pointless pursuit.  I look at the list of films he had roles in (quite a lot) to refresh my memory.  I’ve seen just about all of them. My eyes rove over the name of the film I haven’t seen – Twin Peaks Fire Walk with Me.  It’s the one with the dull character name that I can never remember.  I never engaged with Twin Peaks and the name is just too boring to memorise.  The only thing that sinks in is a hope that, of all the films he did, I do not get asked about that one.  I try again to capture the name in the net of my brain but, as always, it just fades off into oblivion.  There are far more fabulous things to remember. (Which film question do I get? Sadly, yes, it is that one. When it comes at me, all I remember is that I can't remember the answer and all I can think is that I absolutely should know it!)

I flick my eyes over the albums, the songs on each album, the producers, the lead musicians, the dates and years and cover artwork.  The concerts and iconic moments.  There are many.  I think I have them locked in – although, as I look, I realise how quickly the details can fade away like a puff of smoke, in an instant, leaving only the possibility of trying to make something out of nothing.  And that means a “pass”.  The room seems disturbingly smoky and I close my Bowie folder. 

What I know, I know and what I don’t, I don’t.  By now, it’s as simple as that.  Only, there’s nothing simple about any of this.

I go for a hair and make-up spruce and then go off for a promotional shoot.  It’s fun and the crew are great, putting me at ease.  This is out of my comfort zone, but they guide me well.  I’ve been on camera before in The Golden Hour (see separate post) but that was quite a different experience all together.

Back to the Green Room and time is ticking.  I’m wondering when the warm-up questions will come.  Surely, surely, there will be warm-up questions.  Someone right there with us, popping random questions into the air for us to warm our brains up with.  Alas, this is not, it seems, in the plan.  There will be a debrief from the producer about what to expect once in the studio, but no warm-up questions.  This freaks me out.  I cannot imagine going in stone-cold but I realise, aghast, that this is what I will be doing.

It’s akin to a singer going on stage without lubricating the vocal chords, a lead violin taking their place without a tune-up, a 100m sprinter running a final without limbering up – you get the picture.  Our moment in the spotlight is looming, and there will be no warm-up.   Mastermind comes with an extra layer of tough.

By now they are running behind time. We wait and we chat.  We get “mic’d up”.  We sip water.  We wait some more and chat some more.  And then the people from the previous heat emerge.  

Some are jubilant, some are not.  It throws me.  How will I emerge from my session?  Time will tell.

We are walking towards the set – the mosaics, the pillars, the high ceiling, the lighting.  It looks fabulous.  The opposite to how I feel.  Gulp, this is it.

I catch the eye of Sam and my friends.  I smile but I think it is a grimace.  They smile with encouragement.  I need it.

I take my seat. I am the second contender. This is it.  The floor manager takes control, telling us and the audience what lies ahead. I realise we won't even get the chance for a practice run to seat ourselves in THAT chair.  We had been told that it swings.  "Make sure you don't swing it," we had been told.  Scary.  I have no idea how swingy it actually is.

Ian is up first with his specialist subject.  He nails it and this daunts me to the extreme.

I sit in the chair. It is comfortable and I make it there without stumbling or making it swing. The Bowie questions come. The first one is simple (WTF?) and others I nail, but I find myself stumbling.  The high heels have hijacked my mind rather than my feet.  Too many questions are about those hangers-on, cover versions, other people's albums. And things I know but suddenly don't. My brain is whirling, as per the lyric from Bowie’s “Lazarus”.  And, amongst it all, the dreaded question about Twin Peaks. Try as I might to pick that name out of my folder, I can’t.  Pass. My mind is not operating properly.

A line from Bowie's song “Where are we now” (from The Next Day, 2013) is “the moment you know you know you know”.  Well, I can tell you that, when it comes to Mastermind, it’s much more a case of “The moment you suddenly don’t know what you know you know”.

It is almost 5pm by now.  I needed those warm up questions.  I need a wine.  But I am sitting in front of a tv audience and camera with more rounds to complete.

The specialist subject round over, we move onto the General Knowledge round.  My set of questions is hideous.  There are some I should have nailed but the questions are so long, by the time I get to the end I’ve forgotten what the essence of it is.  The mind plays tricks, the words get lost and it’s impossible to claw anything back once the mind goes AWOL.  

As I listen to my fellow contenders’ sets of questions, I have question envy.  Could there be such a thing?  Believe me, there is.  It is agonising to know I would have done better than any of them in their rounds.  But, perhaps that is just because I wasn’t sitting in THAT chair.

Next up, the New Zealand round.  I’ve got Science, Nature and Geography.  The questions are much more reasonable than the last lots and I move through them without too much problem.  It should have been a clean sweep but a bit of mind sabotage got in the way.  I redeem myself to some extent.

I am relieved not to come last but I feel for Simone, who does.  It’s not really to do with what we know or don’t know, it’s to do with the moment, the pressure.  I will say that the chair is comfortable, but that’s where it ends.  The rest is a true test of courage and composure.  Hey, we got this far, we can be proud. 

By 6.30pm a surreal, somewhat exhilarating, totally nerve-wracking and absolutely extraordinary experience is over.  Peter Williams is understandably exhausted and, after an afternoon like no other, I’m off for a well-earned wine.

INSIDE MASTERMIND - The Auditions

As I’ve alluded to, curiosity took me to this place.  I must make it very clear that I have not hankered all my life to be on Mastermind!  I do love a good quiz. I do love to challenge myself in all sorts of ways.  And I do like to give my brain a workout at any time of day or night. 

But this does not = MM territory.

When I can, I have an eye on The Chase (UK version, I’m not so enamoured with the Australian version).  I never sit down and watch, but it is on in the background and, as I go about other things, I learn and I chuckle and am in awe of the Chasers.  But I do love it when the team wins.

One day, up pops an ad about Mastermind.  I had not heard it was coming back to our screens (having been absent in Europe for a couple of months just prior, I missed this).  I am intrigued.  What, I wonder, do they want of applicants?  What does one have to do or be to make it to that chair? Or even half way there.

I go onto the website and complete a chunk of the fields, with no real intention of applying.  When I get to the screen that says “upload photo” and “send us a video of why you want to be on the show”, a shudder of horror crawls through me and I escape right on out of there and get on with my life.

Because I have had to register, I get automated emails telling me I haven’t completed my registration.  No, I’m not really applying. 

And then, in mid-December I get a phone call inviting me to audition.

“But I haven’t registered properly,” I say, envisaging the half-completed online form.

They would like me to audition regardless.  Are they short on applicants or is it that a crazy creative woman who doesn’t complete her tasks has some appeal as a potential contender.   (I"m told there were "hundreds" of applications.) At this point, I haven’t even mentioned my non-application to anyone and now I’m speaking to someone from the production company about auditioning.  Gulp.

What to do?  What to do?  What to do?  Do I agree and take on something I can’t even begin to imagine?  Do I say, sorry, no and wonder what might have been?  

My mind is in turmoil (but it’s nothing compared to what lies ahead!)  I think “what the hell, how can a Skype audition in my own home be so bad?”  I figure that if it all goes wrong, no one will know and that will be that.  I’d have put my curiosity to the ultimate test and be all the wiser for knowing, just a little, how things operate behind the scenes.  And that would be the end of the story.

Okay then, I'll do it - I hear the words tumble from my mouth.  
The audition will be by Skype.  Tomorrow morning.  Choke.

I phone friend Cec, who is also a quiz teammate.  “You won’t believe this,” I say, and tell her the story.  She reassures me it’s all okay, they can’t have all maths professors.  I go to quiz that evening with a different filter and Cec is sworn to secrecy.

Next morning, Cec helps me sort out my Skype to get it working.  Minutes later, it rings. Is this the moment in life when all knowledge will seep immediately from my brain?

Stage one of the audition process is a round of general knowledge questions followed by a round of New Zealand general knowledge questions.  You never get to find out if you are wrong or right or what the “passed” answers are.  The questions keep coming.  Long questions on all manner of topics: sports, politics, geography, history, music ... you name it, it comes at me thick and fast.  It is impossible to gauge how I am doing.  

At quiz, you have input and clues coming from many sources – visual and audio clues, written clues, music, pictures etc, plus your teammates to bounce potential answers off.

In an exam, you can read the question, and read it again (vitally important).  You have time to consider your answer.  Hell, you can change your answer.  You can sift through your mind, delve deeply and siphon out the nonsense.  You have time to picture the lesson, your study notes, backtrack and nut it out.  You have some sort of reasonable chance of getting to the answer even when it seems impossible at first glance.  I used to quite enjoy exams (weird, I know) but, hell, I haven’t sat an exam in years!

Here, in my lounge, sitting staring at my own face on the Skype screen at 10am on a sunny morning, there are just words coming at me.  I can’t even see the mouth of the person delivering them.  No clues.  Just words.  And answers.  Right now.  Or not. 

There is no scope to start thinking “Did I get that one right” or “Nailed that one” or "Phew, got that one right" or “Must remember that to see if I got that one” or “It’s on the tip of my tongue” or “I should know that” or “What the hell are they talking about?”  One question relentlessly leads to another.  It's all jumbled up.  I try to retain composure while putting my brain through paces it hasn’t experienced before.  I’ve never done anything like this in my life. 

Stop the mind chatter, I tell myself.  The question, concentrate on the question.  Listen to the question.  Help, what’s the question?

It takes a while to settle into things but I get into a flow and eventually I clamber my way through the two rounds.  We bid farewell and the experience, although challenging, hasn’t been quite as threatening as I had imagined.  But that’s not to say it was without pressure. 

I ring Cec and debrief.  I can’t even remember half the questions and I have absolutely no idea how my effort measures up.  I suggest that will be the end of my Mastermind expedition.

A few days later I get a call I am not expecting.  I have somehow made it through to the next round. 

“You’re kidding me,” I say. 

“Don’t sound so surprised,” they say.  I am still surprised.

The second audition will be in a few days.  We make a time and I am glad I have time to breathe.  I ring Cec and then spin into outer space … she is right there with me. 

The thing is, you can’t really study for an audition like that.  The scope of the questions is so broad and random, you don’t know where to start.  I will just have to rely, as I did for the first one, on the knowledge I already have inside me.  I do polish up my staple diet of quiz topics but I’m not sure it will help.  I think I left my mind out in space somewhere ...

Mastermind is calling again and once again I’m on Skype, at home, about to have a new barrage of questions thrown at me.  This time it’s slightly different.  The general knowledge and NZ questions are all mixed up together and there will be less time to give your answer.  The pressure is on.

We’re under way and although I settle in slightly more quickly this time, it's tough - the mind is tangling and the brain is whirling but still managing to get answers out in spite of all the innter turmoil.  When it is over, I’m exhausted.  I have no idea whether my MM journey is over, or just beginning ...

Christmas comes and goes and my being welcomes the break from questions and wonder.  I keep doing Sudoku and cryptic crosswords, I continue to soak up every bit of knowledge I can and absorb new things in the world around me. I do this anyway but, if I’m honest, I guess I’m doing it with an extra layer of observance ... and I’m listening to Bowie and Talking Heads ... just in case ...!

Later in January, I receive an unexpected email telling me I have a provisional place on the show.  Yikes, I don’t know quite what to think.  I can run away right now.  Or I can go for it.

You know which route I choose!

(See post INSIDE MASTERMIND – The Preparation)

INSIDE MASTERMIND - The preparation

Curiosity recently took me to one of the most challenging, surreal and extraordinary places of my life ... the Mastermind chair!! 

The curiosity part of this equation is a story in itself, as is the audition process which I somehow made my way through (see separate post INSIDE MASTERMIND - The Auditions). 

But let’s concentrate here on the experience itself.

First, a little background …

Mastermind was last on our screens in NZ in 1990 and has made its comeback within the same format and framework.  It makes for rather stark television, with the questions being as long, involved and obscure as ever.  The difference this time around is that in addition to specialist subject and general knowledge, there is an extra round of NZ general knowledge.  The NZ section is split into different categories and you have to pick one of those, thus turning it into a specialist subject of sorts.

I choose Science, Nature & Geography.  Other categories are Art & Literature, History, Sports, and Pop Culture.  I would have much preferred a general across-the-board range of questions from all these categories rather than a focus on one but, c’est la vie. 

Each round is 90 seconds, so a total of 4½ minutes of questions.  A mere few moments of life but, let me assure you, it feels like an eternity as you’re relentlessly bombarded by giant wordy questions and trying to get your head around them, time ticking, brain whirling.

I somehow get myself through the first audition.  The second audition is a similar, yet trickier process.  (See separate Audition post for that peek behind the scenes on that side of things).

Having navigated my way through both, I then find myself being offered a position as a contender.  Gulp, is this for real? Yes indeed.  Now what ...?  I have to firm up my specialist subjects, to be approved by the producer, that’s what.  And get studying.

You have to prepare two subjects - one for the heat and one for the semi finals (I think this is being rather optimistic as far as I'm concerned, but it’s part of the deal!)  I have loosely in mind to do something Europe-focused and then either Talking Heads (fave group) or David Bowie (love him).  But really, I have no idea.  How does one select one’s specialist subject?  For me this was no easy task.  I would call myself a Generalist rather than a Specialist on anything in particular.  But one thing is for sure, it must be something which you are passionate about, otherwise you are just torturing yourself.  Oh, I think I am already about to do just that, regardless.

I really wanted to do something based around European geography and culture (landmarks, cities, food etc) but it has to be something researchable.  You have to supply two books and two websites from which the questions will come.  Well, this is a rather large topic and my knowledge emanates from my own life experiences rather than from a book.  My chaotic mind, however, is not something that can be easily researched, even by me!

I scout for a suitable book but can find nothing that covers what I have in my chaotic mind.  Travel guides and books on one city or country are about it.  Tomes on history and various aspects of different countries, but no book that aligns with the knowledge I hold in my head in a researchable way.  I wonder about focussing on Venice.  I wonder about narrowing it down to Eastern Europe.  Or one country.  I wonder about writing my own book … (now there’s an idea!)

With minimal time to ponder and finalise my decision, I poke about online and scour library catalogues for books about Europe, Talking Heads and David Bowie.  When it seems too difficult to source something suitable for a Europe topic I turn my attention to the music side of things.

See separate posts – DAVID BOWIE and TALKING HEADS to find out why I love them!

Late one night, in early January, before I know I have made it through audition no.2, I am watching a David Bowie clip on YouTube, marvelling at his voice, his songs, his style, and as much in awe of him as ever.  I think to myself “I wonder what the world would do if he died.”  The thought rather horrifies me and is far too difficult to ponder.  I perish that thought and carry on watching the mesmerising Heroes video.  Or perhaps it was Station to Station, I can't quite recall, I was watching a lot of clips around that time.

A few days later, on his 69th birthday, 8th January 2016, Bowie releases Blackstar and two days after that he is dead.  When the news comes through I am absolutely shocked – by the cold hard reality of it, by the fact he had kept his illness quiet and because I had actually contemplated it, out of nowhere, just days earlier.  The world grieves for this unique man whose genius was at work right up until the bitter end. I can't quite comprehend it. 

Blackstar is an exceptional musical offering from a man who was dying.  Despite that, it is him at his very best.  I will listen to it forever.

But back to Mastermind (as I say, you can read more about me and DB in the separate post) ...

The production company, understandably, latches onto the Bowie idea and, despite having some angst around the enormity and suddenly ultra high profile of the topic, which is all a deterrent for me, they are really keen. Ultimately, it is my decision and, in the end, I think it is a fitting tribute.  The fact that, when Mastermind was last on our screens back in 1990, the winner had the same topic, is extra daunting.  But I know that, with his death, I want to delve deeper into the genius of Bowie anyway, so why not do so with Mastermind in mind?

So David Bowie it is to be, and Talking Heads, if I make it to the semi-final.  Brian Eno has played a significant role in the journey of both, and so it was especially intriguing to see another contender with the specialist subject of the “The Music of Brian Eno”.  (I worked with Brian’s daughter back in the 1980s in London, long after I was already a fan of both DB and TH - interesting insights there, that's for sure!)

And so the study begins.  I decide on the book Strange Fascination by David Buckley, who did his doctoral thesis on Bowie, and another publication put out by Time, plus a couple of websites.  (There are now many new books about his life, but these had not been published at the time of study!)

I download the book onto my Kindle and begin to read and make copious notes.  And be fascinated of course, as the book uncovers all sorts of interesting detail.  I am thinking that I need to get a hard copy of the book (Kindle is not the best way to study) – no copies at the library.  In fact, just about every Bowie resource is hard to come by anywhere, everyone is devouring every aspect.  This terrifies me as I envisage myself as the least-accomplished Bowie specialist out there, about to go on national television.  I shudder at the thought and try to shake it off.  There are a lot of sticky bits.

I am about to research getting a copy through Amazon but, at this point, the production company rings to say they can’t get a copy of the book at all, and they suggest another title.  This sounds more like a catalogue and stories of his music than a picture of his life, so I express my concerns, as his life was so much more than his music.  They say they will send me a copy of the book to have a look at. 

So I keep reading Strange Fascination, but don’t make such copious notes as it is apparently not going to be a researchable resource.  I wait for the new book to arrive.  It doesn’t.  I contact them and they apologise, they thought they had let me know that they had got a copy of Strange Fascination after all.  What?

Valuable time has been lost but I stumble over that block and switch back into power study mode.  I deem it too late to get a hard copy myself and keep on with the Kindle, a copy reserved through the library if it should become available (it didn’t).  In hindsight, I should have ordered through Amazon the day they said they'd got a copy and we were back on track.  

Lesson: don’t try to study with a Kindle.  A hard copy that you can flick through and highlight and refer back to is most definitely required.  (Whilst I like to learn new things every day, the last time I studied like this was well before computers and kindles, when books were the only way to go!)

Bowie’s life is so huge and diverse, it is hard to work out what to really concentrate on.  Whilst the latter part of his life wasn't as public, those years were pretty damned amazing and not that well known.  His innovation never waned.  Over the many years of his career, there have been so many hangers-on and people involved, it is hard to keep track of it all.  But it is the exceptional things HE did that really fascinate me.  (You can see what some of those things are in separate David Bowie post).  I’m lapping up David Bowie in every way I can.

Alongside this I’m honing up my NZ knowledge of science, nature and geography.  Rivers, highways, birds, trees, towns, mountains, scientists, natural wonders etc.  Where does it end ...?  At Slope Point, in the Catlins, perhaps – the most southern point of the South Island (no, it’s not Bluff).

General knowledge is the sort of stuff I just absorb along life’s journey, honing up here and there when it takes my interest.  I’m a member of a pub quiz team so gleaning and retaining all sorts of random knowledge is invaluable and ongoing – and can add up to be that valuable extra point.  

I do like to read atlases, maps and dictionaries (weird, I know!) and I do observe and absorb as much as I can, researching murky bits of information until I have a handle on them (or not!)  The Periodic Table, Dickens, Shakespeare, Bond, Olympics, Oscars, presidents and prime ministers, monarchs and battles, capitals and landmarks – all these topics are standard for a quizzer to get to grips with.   Or at least try!

At quiz, you have visual and audio clues, the brains of fellow teammates and scope for discussion (or could that be dissension!?)  With Mastermind, however, it’s just you and the long convoluted questions.   And spotlights and cameras. And your mind in a tangle as the nation tunes in.

What the hell am I doing?

I am cramming in as much as my poor addled brain can handle.

 
I am researching and delving into anything and everything that comes into my world or my dreams (nightmares?!)  Googling this and that, enlightening myself on obscurities, bamboozling myself with things one may never need to know – unless, perhaps, if asked the question on Mastermind!

I have David Bowie playing all day and all night.  Brett can’t bear to hear another song, I can’t get enough of it.  Every spare moment is spent studying and absorbing whatever I can.  I don’t seem to have enough spare moments, with other projects on the go, as always.  It’s a juggle and time is passing.  

I should add here that I start Bridge lessons through all this and so, at the same time, am trying to get my head around the incredible complexities of that, grappling with take-out bids and finesses and strong openers and learning about being vulnerable and a dummy (they're bridge words!)  How did someone ever invent this game? I know I will become addicted, like a number of my friends are already.  See separate post about PLAYING BRIDGE ...

The line from one of my favourite Bowie songs, “Love is Lost” (from The Next Day album) is going round and round in my head on repeat.  It goes “What have you done, Oh what have you done?”  Indeed.  I can’t answer the question.  I don’t really know yet, but I do know that one of the most daunting and nerve‑wracking days of my life is looming.

Filming day draws closer – Easter Sunday to be precise.  No Easter holiday for me this year. 

What the hell have I done?!

(See next post for INSIDE MASTERMIND – The Filming)

Oh, What have you done?