by Earlier this year, producers happened upon the perfect candidate for the next series of Channel 5’s Cast Away: national treasure-turned-pariah, Phillip Schofield. There was just one problem – they couldn’t get hold of him. For three months Clive Tulloh, executive producer of Burning Bright Productions, struggled to contact the agent without Schofield, who had been isolated from the trappings of celebrity life a year earlier, when he had an affair with a runner on This Morning (who was). 15 when they met, and 20 when they started sexual relations) exposed.
When Tulloh finally received a message – via Schofield’s daughter, Molly – “it gave him something determined… he didn’t jump at the idea” of sending him to an island off the coast of Madagascar to fend for himself for 10 days. . “He thought right about it for a long time.”
Producers toured the presenter’s family home in Henley in June. Undoubtedly, he would have to face his spectacular fall from grace – but they were not prescriptive about the “arc” that Schofield’s story would take, explains Guy Davies, commissioning editor at Channel 5. They were also wrong to sign it: Cast Away is “a process that you go through in solitude, and we don’t know what’s going to come out the other side either,” he says. “It’s a setting and a process that allows you to look a little bit inside your head, and explore and challenge yourself, as well as try to survive. And I think he found it an interesting challenge to do that, physically and mentally.”
And so, after he looked at the previous episodes and there were more rumors, he decided, “I want to do it; I have everything else turned down. But what I really enjoy is that I’m alone, when I’m filming, and I love that.”
In Schofield’s mind, this was the last chance for redemption: a way to monologue – without being challenged – about the perceived ills that had befallen him since he was fired from This Morning last year. (Also, as I’m A Celebrity has proven, putting unsavory public figures through a tough climate or two can do wonders for their appeal, and their bank balance – Schofield’s fee was “totally on par” with former contestants like Ruby Wax, says Tulloh.)
The journey began in late August, when Schofield and Tulloh made a mammoth 32-hour journey (via Paris, to avoid paparazzi, as well as a five-hour wait on the runway in Jeddah due to fog) to go to the enclave in eastern Africa. The producers stayed on a nearby island, 15 minutes away by speedboat, sending three cameras at Schofield, and their wishes.
Qualifiers were immediately cast about the footage they could get. “He’s a proper TV nerd,” Tulloh says of Schofield’s filmmaking prowess; the editors of the program “can’t find out how good his films are.” The cameraman tasked with sending drones over Schofield island to capture him mountain-scaling, or fishing, “was almost unconcerned about how well Phil was filming”.
That abundance of tape made for “remarkably strong television”, according to this newspaper’s review – a lone positive figure in a sea of critics who called it “a cross between self-abuse and self-promotion.” on the show, overwhelmed by “the sheer scale of his self-aggrandizing victimhood.”
As well as whether he should be allowed to star in his own hero story 15 months after his fall from grace, there is one big question: was the loneliness and hunger schtick real?
But Schofield “really” went off on his own, even closing a bag of rice from Tulloh (the producer says if he accepted, this would have been revealed on the show). In fact, although we see a disappointed Schofield in the final episode after his failed catch, his 10 days on the island inspired a serious crab habit. When he left, he told Tulloh that he had eaten 10 trees – and that they are “pretty big,” says Tulloh. “I think he was lucky he didn’t get any indigestion… if you get clean [there] now, it would be even more difficult, because it has greatly reduced the crab population of that island.”
Although he reported no gastric distress from crustaceans, Schofield called producers around 7am each day. “Every morning, he had to call in and do a health check, because we wanted to make sure he got through the night,” says Tulloh. On that call, he would also fill them in on his plans for the day, so the drone could be tamed.
Schofield always had a walkie-talkie with him for safety reasons, only using it when he thought he had found the tracks of a big cat in the sand (he was advised to build a big fire, which burned down his camp unfortunately. ). Physical danger was not the only concern. “Mentally, it was very strong, but of course, we were worried and Channel 5 were worried,” Tulloh said. “He could call his therapist if needed.”
The “most dangerous moment” came when Schofield decided to climb the island’s mountain on the seventh day. He originally told Tulloh that he planned to do that on day two or three, while he was still strong enough. “I climbed it myself, it is almost bare in places; it’s a scramble, and it takes a few hours,” explains Tulloh. But “he put it off and put it off. And I was worried that he would… we’re all in the hands of the gods of these programs, in that somebody just has to slip, and then it’s dangerous.” Doing so after a week, when his energy was severely depleted, “was the greatest danger,” says Tulloh. “I think he had an extra crab the night before.”
The mission was successful; Schofield was released from self-imposed captivity three days later. (His celebratory meal was a “big beer” and a humble omelette because he feared his stomach couldn’t handle much, probably due to ricocheting between hunger and seafood dinners.)
Then perhaps the biggest challenge faced by the makers of the show: preparing the three programs for mass in a few weeks. “It’s crazy, we’ve never done a program like that,” says Tulloh (an hour of footage usually takes almost two months to edit). But after a summer of Olympics, Euros and Paralympics, where viewers were “watching BBC One, ITV, Channel 4, everyone will have forgotten about Channel 5 again,” said Ben Frow, chief content officer of the channels. His view, according to Tulloh, was: “I want something that comes out at the end of September that reminds people that Channel 5 is still there. So I think he definitely did that.”
For Frow, he says, the channel’s shows should “always be about people who love, or have been loved by, the British public.” Schofield, now decidedly in the latter camp, therefore seemed an obvious fit. But did he really deserve the platform? The programs are little more than a series of drowned out digressions about the many who Schofield believes have wronged him. “I don’t have any questions about whether we should have done it or not,” Davies says of the “controversial” events that have dogged the presenter since last year, saying that Cast Away “felt like a good place for him to tell. his story.” “He’s definitely a conversation starter. He’s obviously made a lot of noise.”
Tulloh admits to being surprised by the strength of the public’s reaction. “I hope he has a thick skin, because it is quite difficult. I mean, the reaction to the show is the reaction to it, really, isn’t it?… It was pretty brutal, how [reviewers] in touch with him. I thought people might be a little more dignified, but they don’t seem to be.”
They are happy with the ratings (the first episode drew in 1.5m viewers); experience confirmed to them that the format should be brought back. “We’ll definitely be looking at it again,” says Davies, “but I don’t want to say at this point who we’d be looking at.”
The two have been in touch recently with Schofield, who Tulloh says is “a much stronger and happier person for doing this program… it’s helped him move forward personally. Whether that’s the role of TV shows, I don’t know. But for Phil, I think it’s a great thing to do.”
