Hilariously self-deprecating tales from HARRY HILL in his suitably surreal new ...

Hilariously self-deprecating tales from HARRY HILL in his suitably surreal new ...
Hilariously self-deprecating tales from HARRY HILL in his suitably surreal new ...

I don’t know whether you’ve met Simon Cowell, but it’s an odd thing. He’s smaller than you think and he has no feet.

His trousers appear to be glued to the soles of his shoes so that his feet remain invisible. I once commented on his suit and asked him where it was from.

‘I have to have them made, Harry,’ he said. ‘I’m a very odd shape.’

Harry Hill pictured with The Queen, who the comedian said he met when he 'hadn’t eaten all day' and  was 'unfortunately completely smashed' during. He said: 'I turned the Royal Variety Show into a Dignitas reunion dinner'

Harry Hill pictured with The Queen, who the comedian said he met when he 'hadn’t eaten all day' and  was 'unfortunately completely smashed' during. He said: 'I turned the Royal Variety Show into a Dignitas reunion dinner'

For a few years in the Noughties, my hit show TV Burp was on ITV at teatime on Saturdays, just before The X Factor. Simon and his team used to watch it while they were getting ready in make-up.

The X Factor was essential viewing in our house, especially with our three young girls. One year, I took them to see a live recording and much to their excitement they met One Direction, Louis, Cheryl and the gang.

The next year, I was sitting, a little tipsy, at the final as Little Mix lifted the big prize. I mused that I’d watched every single episode for seven years, and I thought to myself, ‘How can I turn this huge amount of useless knowledge into some kind of higher art, or better still . . . money!’

Then as the confetti cannons went off on screen and Little Mix wept with excitement, it hit me like a thunderbolt — an X Factor musical!

Simon’s right-hand man was Nigel Hall, a former ITV producer whom I knew a bit. My idea earned me a meeting at the Sony building just off Kensington High Street where Simon has his office.

Nigel called to explain that Simon was ‘running a bit late’. I’d brought my friend Steve Brown, who would be the musical director, along with me.

We were given tea and a Heat magazine. Twenty minutes later, he came back to us: ‘Good news, Simon has left home, and he’s now in the car on the Westway.’

Ten minutes later . . . ‘Simon is 15 minutes away, he’s at Shepherd’s Bush roundabout.’ And 20 minutes later . . . ‘Simon is in the road and walking towards the building!’

Then . . . ‘Simon is in the lift!’ Then . . . ‘Simon’s coming up the corridor!’ Then the door to the office opened and Nigel said, ‘It’s Simon!’

As the cigarette smoke cleared like some bizarre episode of Stars In Their Eyes, there he was in the doorway.

What he does have is an amazing stillness and weird charisma that I’ve never experienced before or since. When with him, you feel like anything is possible.

I actually came away from that first meeting wondering whether I might be falling in love with him.

‘What’s this about?’ he said, easing himself into one of the beige leather sofas in his beige-leather-lined office.

‘It’s about Harry’s idea for the X Factor musical, Simon, remember?’ prompted Nigel.

At the end of the meeting, Simon nodded, sat back on his sofa, and said the magic words: ‘It’s a yes from me!’

Steve and I tumbled out on to the pavement and looked at each other aghast. ‘S***!’ said Steve. ‘We’re going to have to write the bloody thing now!’

At that first meeting, Simon had told us that he’d recently banned two words from the show — ‘journey’ as in, ‘It’s been a fantastic journey’ and ‘dream’ as in, ‘This is my dream, Simon!’

Hill said: 'For revenge, I told Keeley Hawes we’d both pose cross-eyed - except I didn’t…'. Hawes with Hill at the 50th Bafta Television Awards in 2008

Hill said: 'For revenge, I told Keeley Hawes we’d both pose cross-eyed - except I didn’t…'. Hawes with Hill at the 50th Bafta Television Awards in 2008

So Steve and I decided we’d write a song called I’m Dreaming Of A Journey On My Journey To A Dream.

At the next meeting, I suggested it should be a duet. ‘It can’t be a duet,’ said Simon, looking at me with the look that says, ‘Cross me if you dare.’

‘Of course it’s not a duet! Ha ha!’ I said with a nervous laugh, thinking, ‘Bit weird, what was all that about?’

I think, in retrospect, it was about Simon flexing his muscles.

As Steve played the song, Simon put his arms in the air, waving them back and forth. He even started singing along.

At the end, he applauded and said, ‘That’s great, Steve, I really like it, but you should change key a couple of times at the end.’

To which Steve replied, ‘No.’

Suddenly, the atmosphere changed. Gone was the sunny, upbeat bonhomie and in blew an arctic frost.

‘It could do with a key change,’ repeated Simon.

‘I don’t think so,’ said Steve dismissively.

The next day I got a phone call. It was Nigel.

‘Well done, yesterday! But, ah . . . How important is Steve?’

‘We sort of come as a team. It’s a musical,’ I pointed out, ‘so we need someone to write the songs.’

‘Well, he can’t argue with Simon,’ he snapped. ‘Otherwise it’s going to be a very short relationship!’

‘He didn’t really argue with Simon,’ I reasoned. ‘It was more a frank exchange of views . . .’

‘Believe me, baby, that’s as close to an argument that Simon’s been for ten years.’

It was all smoothed over. We assembled a cast, workshopped it for a week or so, rewriting the whole time, and then the moment came for us to perform it in a stripped-down way, in the basement of the Soho Theatre in Dean Street for Simon, his entourage and all the West End theatre owners and their representatives, with a view to securing Simon’s permission to press on with the project — and crucially, a venue to stage it in.

Just before the show was due to start, we got a series of phone calls. ‘Simon’s running late, Simon’s on Oxford Street, Simon’s round the corner . . . Simon’s in the building . . .’

Hill said of Simon Cowell, to whom he pitched an X Factor musical: 'I actually came away from that first meeting wondering whether I might be falling in love with him.' He added that Cowell said he was '110%' behind the show which closed four weeks later

Hill said of Simon Cowell, to whom he pitched an X Factor musical: 'I actually came away from that first meeting wondering whether I might be falling in love with him.' He added that Cowell said he was '110%' behind the show which closed four weeks later

Eventually Simon arrived with Nigel, Amanda Holden and Sinitta in tow. The rest of the audience were producers, promoters and theatre owners — really hard bitten, ‘Nothing impresses us!’ types. Your quintessential ‘tough crowd’.

The last time any of these guys laughed was when one of their rivals’ shows was cancelled.

The show started and, unbelievably, it couldn’t have gone better — everyone was laughing hysterically from the off.

The show finished to a standing ovation — unheard of in that kind of workshop situation and in front of that sort of crowd.

Smelling success, Simon sprang to his feet, ran up on to the stage and said, ‘I’m backing this 110 per cent!’

We were off! The producers accepted the offer of the Palladium which, after all, only seats a mere 2,400 people.

The opening night was studded with stars. We had Louis Walsh, Terry Wogan, Ronnie Corbett, David Walliams, Cilla Black, Philip Green, Jimmy Carr, Union J (waddya mean, who?), Sinitta and Amanda Holden (who appeared inexplicably to have forgotten to wear her trousers).

I know! What a weird bunch! We got mostly good reviews. I was doing a lot of what I believe is called ‘flouncing about’.

Suddenly, I thought I was Noel Coward. ‘I’ve got a hit show at the London Palladium, doncha know!’

Sir Ian ‘Gandalf’ McKellen turned up one night, Rowan Atkinson another! We were on our way — we were going to be rich!

Four weeks after opening night, I was in a cab on my way home after a matinee (Yes, I was even doing matinees!) and I noticed a missed call from the producer. I called her straight back.

For a few years in the Noughties, Hill's hit show TV Burp was on ITV on Saturday evenings, just before The X Factor

For a few years in the Noughties, Hill's hit show TV Burp was on ITV on Saturday evenings, just before The X Factor

‘Oh, hi, Rebecca!’ I said breezily. Then as a joke added, ‘I thought we’d get longer than four weeks, ha ha ha!’

To which she replied, ‘How did you know?’

I heard a low grunting noise that sounded like a wounded animal, then I realised it was coming from me.

‘Noooooooo!’ I groaned. And that was it.

Why did it fail? Probably because we took on too large a venue. I found out later that no one in the history of the Palladium had ever launched a new musical there. What we should have done is started small and toured the provinces, like all the other shows do.

The following night we broke the news to the cast and crew as they came off. They were the people who suffered most, this bunch of very talented people.

They were all signed up for a year and all they got was two weeks’ notice. I know it’s not quite the same

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