FAIR play to Brian Constantine. The former ITV Channel newsreader – whom I had the pleasure to work with back in the day – had long dreamed of bringing back Bergerac, and while he must have encountered many doubters along his decade-long journey, he only went and did it.
Now Executive Producer of the reboot, Brian and his team helped weave together the funding, casting, filming, distribution and whatever else is involved in creating a TV programme.
I was travelling when the reboot was first streamed on U but watched it last summer. Part of me has always thought that liking Bergerac was a civic responsibility in Jersey – a bit like knowing what happened on 6 January 1781, understanding why we’re British but not in the UK, and how to filter-in-turn.
However, just like the first incarnation, I found the six episodes of Season One actually really good, and not just because it was set in Jersey, even if great chunks of it were clearly not filmed in the Island.
Damien Molony managed to resurrect John’s Nettles’ damaged but brilliantly investigative tenacity, Zoe Wanamaker was a convincing conduit between the dirty business of policing and rarified air of the Jersey elite, and Philip Glenister played a great rogue.
While I remember the original version being filmed, and even helped with my brother to push Jim’s Triumph Roadster, with John Nettles driving it, when it broke down outside my grandparents’ house at First Tower – I was never an extra in it.
But that has changed because I managed to secure a role as a ‘supporting actor’ – the modern term for an extra – in the second series of the reboot, which comes out this month.
I was given a brief to meet at the old TGI Fridays restaurant at the Waterfront, which was, in tele speak, the ‘unit crowd base’.
Unit crowd base … it sounded like a place that Lando Calrissian might run. I liked it already.
My brief, emailed beforehand: “You will be a supporting artist for this day, playing a role of a ‘Jersey elite/high society’ member in Charlie Hungerford’s club and you are attending the Saturday lunchtime afternoon drinks.”
Also: “Dress code is blazers for men, women in light-coloured dresses and smart suits. Wedding attire wouldn’t be far off the mark! Please come already dressed but with some other options in a bag (clean and pressed!). No logos or identifiable branding please.”
‘Jersey elite / high society’? Well, there’s a first for me, I thought, but I guess I can act posh for an afternoon.
One of the first things to strike me as I met my fellow extras and crew at TGI Fridays was just how intact the restaurant was/is. It may have closed in October 2024 but clearly the business had left in a hurry: there were still menus on the tables and a Harley Davidson parked up at the entrance. I want first dibs on the bike when it’s all cleared out.
However, for the time being, it offered enough space for the costume and make-up teams to make sure we were all ready for action. This initial space set the m.o. for the rest of the afternoon: a fair bit of waiting followed by orders and corralling by a very polite and chipper team of production staff.
This first phase involved us extras being asked to line up several times while we were inspected by the team: dresses, shoes, ties and other bits of costume were handed out while make-up was applied, collars adjusted, and hair combed and flicked into shape.
There was about 25 of us: men all suited and booted while the ladies all looked very smart in dresses fit for a gathering of Jersey’s tax-dodging glitterati.
It was a good opportunity to get to know them, many of the ensemble seasoned extras with various acting credits to their names: Royal Square chase scene; Central Market arrest; and even, original Bergerac: St Brelade’s Bay. I was clearly a mere pretender in this game.
The former booth-filled restaurant had been properly taken over by the Bergerac crew, with its own make-up tables – complete with bulb-lined mirrors, rows of racked costumes and, most importantly, a steaming water urn for tea and coffee.
Feeling in a showbiz frame of mind, I cracked my ‘Tea Ern?’ joke to a fellow extra, with little response.
My fellow extras included none other than Brian Constantine himself, who had invited his mum and dad to also take part. Fellow producer (and extra) James Ahier, had brought his mum, too. If I’d known, I’d invited my parents too.
It all meant that the experience remained a very warm-natured and ‘Jersey’ affair, despite the visiting crews and actors.
From TGI Fridays, we were bussed the short distance to Library Place, and a second holding location in the hall at Church House.
There was another Tea Ern there, and in between us extras chatting among ourselves, the ever chipper Floor Production Assistant Fraya Dawe and Third Assistant Director Jack O’Regan kept us up to date with timings and what we would be expected to do.
Our scene was being filmed at the United Club, where Charlie Hungerford, played by Zoë Wanamaker, was introducing her new beau Nigel, played by Adrian Edmonson, to fellow club members.
Unfortunately, it meant that Jim himself would not be in the scene, but to think I would be mere feet away from Vyvyan Basterd / Baron von Richthofen was ample compensation.
If only I had the balls to ask Ade to recount his views on why the English find the toilet so amusing or teaching home economics. But then, the humiliation would have been UN-BEAR-ABLE.
Eventually, we all filed upstairs into the United Club, which was already full of lights, cameras and action, as the crew prepared for our scene.
Jack calmly took us off in ones and twos to guide us to our places around the room, giving us a brief each time.
One extra, Carole Le Vannais, clearly had a gift for the stage because she had been handpicked to play Millie: the wife of a club member who had been busted for insider dealing.
In our scene, Millie had had the temerity to come to the club – even though her other half was persona non grata – so we – Jersey’s elite – had to shun her with disapproving glances. Nigel, on the other hand, not being part of our clique, went over to Millie to offer words of welcome.
Myself and fellow extra Rae Hamon were placed in conversation by the buffet table – which might sound a good spot, but ‘continuity’ put paid to me having canapé or two over the course of a dozen or so takes.
Director Josh Agnew and First Assistant Director Ian Astridge were funny, enthusiastic, polite but firm with their instructions between takes.
Josh told me after one particular take that my countenance had looked like I had been warmly greeting Millie instead of scowling at her, so next time I summoned up the spirit of Paddington Bear to give her a hard stare.
Halfway through filming, we had a pause while all the equipment was moved from one end of the room to the other, so that the same scene could be shot from a different angle. It was amazing that such a short scene could take so long to film, but neither the crew nor the actors batted an eyelid: this must be just how it is in tele-land.
While being an actor or filmmaker might sound glamorous, one suspects a lot of the job – like many ‘glamorous’ jobs – is rather routine and repetitive.
Eventually, applause followed Josh’s announcement that it was in the can: the scene was done and he was happy.
We then made our way to the Town Church for a fine feed put on by a cheerful catering team.
Despite it being a long and drizzly day, I had thoroughly enjoyed my time with the cast, crew and extras of Bergerac Season Two.
It remains to be seen whether I smile or cringe when my scene is played. Or whether you can see me at all. Regardless, I’m updating my CV to include ‘actor’.
Roll on Season Three.
