Picture the scene. It’s November 2019 and I’m sitting in Buckingham Palace in England. I’m sitting in an ornate gold chair pushed against the wall of the South Drawing Room, staring nervously at the slightly frayed but elegantly upholstered red and gold floor. The room is larger than most London apartments and I’m just 15 feet behind the chair of the Queen’s “favourite son,” Prince Andrew. He sits with his back to me, his left foot tapping repeatedly on the palace floor.
In my field of vision there is the famous BBC Nightly News journalist Emily Maitlis, who is about to conduct the interview of her life about Prince Andrew's friendship with prolific sex offender and trafficker Jeffrey Epstein and Virginia Giuffre's sexual assault allegations. It's an interview that will effectively bring down a prince. The atmosphere is electric. There is a deep silence among the entire television crew. The lights are on, the cameras are ready, the producers and palace staff are completely still.
And then it begins…
What followed was a masterclass in how not to answer questions in an interview. If you haven’t seen it, spoiler alert, it didn’t go well for Prince Andrew. During those 48 minutes, the Duke of York gave answers that could have sparked a thousand memes. He said he couldn’t have committed the alleged crimes because he was in a Pizza Express in the town of Woking with his daughter, that he had a medical condition that meant he couldn’t have broken a sweat while dancing in a nightclub with Giuffre, and that he didn’t regret staying with Epstein after he was convicted of sex crimes because it was a “comfortable place to be.” Just four days after the interview aired, after global condemnation of his answers, the palace itself released a statement saying Prince Andrew was stepping back from his public role, effectively fired by his own mother, the Queen. Because of the power of that interview, the power of journalism, he remains a pariah nearly five years later.
So how the hell did that interview happen, and why the hell did she agree to do it? It's still hard to believe she said yes, even though it was my job, as a sales rep at Nightly Newsto get people to come to the show. To be honest, it was a thankless task most of the time: endless rejections, often working for months on something, only to have it fall apart at the last hurdle.
This interview was the culmination of more than a year of negotiations, palace visits, hopes against hope, countless emails, and eternal optimism. But I'll be honest with you: I never thought he would say yes.
But he did.
And then, four years later, I'm sitting in Buckingham Palace again. Only this time it's an exquisitely reconstructed palace, on a film set, somewhere outside London. And Prince Andrew and Emily Maitlis are in
the room again, only this time it's the usual exquisitely chiseled actor Rufus Sewell (after hours of prosthetics) and the iconic Gillian Anderson as the fictional prince and presenter. We're on the set of the Netflix film Scoopwhich is based on my book. It is beyond my wildest dreams. Billie Piper plays me, gorgeously adorned in my everyday attire (think black faux leather, fake fur, snakeskin boots, tons of lip gloss, huge purse, even bigger sunglasses), and she shakes her blonde curls (wig) around the fake room in the on-screen version of my life.
There's a scene in the movie where I'm chatting with my mother after a particularly hard day at the office (well, Billie is chatting with my actress mother, Amanda Redman), and she asks me a crucial thing: “Does it matter?” And, by God, this job and these interviews, they mattered.
This kind of journalism, which holds powerful people to account, asks tough questions, and seeks the truth without favoritism, is more important than ever. And it has never been more in danger. Nightly News itself is now a shorter programme, and all the BBC journalists portrayed in our film now have different jobs (myself included). Every day, there is a new story of job cuts and serious journalism at risk. It is the sad irony that the global success of Scoop It comes at a time when this kind of scoop is more at risk than ever.
Our film is a tribute to the BBC, to the team of Nightly Newsto Emily Maitlis and the brilliant editor of the time, Esme Wren (played by Romola Garai). And to the journalists who made it all possible.
It is a useful reminder of the power and importance of journalism and truth in these uncertain times, for the BBC and for the countless journalists fighting behind the scenes, just as I have, trying to hold power and democracy to account.
Every day journalists from all over the world contact me to tell me that Scoop inspired them and made them feel the need to continue.
I am proud of our film, proud of what we all accomplished. I am grateful that Netflix has chosen to bring this story to life for the world. If you appreciate this kind of responsibility, this kind of search for truth, please consume it.
Otherwise the powerful will sleep more peacefully.
This story originally appeared in an August standalone issue of The Hollywood Reporter magazine. To receive the magazine, click here to subscribe.