“The Morning Show”

Just about every evening at 6 pm, amid crew mess mashed potatoes or a bowl of corn pops, I receive variations of the same call. “Myles, can you be there ten to seven tonight?,” a voice will beckon with South American inflection. The call is from Elvis, the ship’s Activities Manager, co-host of “The Morning Show,” and yes, that is his real name.

I oblige, cruise sanctioned mobile in one hand, spoon in the other, performing the balancing act of dinner whilst coordinating the night’s shooting schedule. One of the Broadcast Technician’s many hats.

Fact is, the aforementioned phone call remains the most crucial step. No joke. What ensues, fleet-wide known as “The Morning Show,” is a rather laid-back affair, comical and like clockwork.

Recorded six nights a week against the backdrop of Novidis architectural mouldings (the ship’s spa) and subsequently televised at midnight to the staterooms of all 2,500 guests, “The Morning Show,” as concept, informs passengers of the day’s events – be it “Win a Cruise Bingo,” swimming with dolphins, or the best diamond outlets to peruse on port. As executed, my job, apart from pressing a button, is to frame the situation fourth dimensionally – from “action” to edit to television screen. And I do it alone.

The spa sits empty upon my arrival. Assembly of the equipment is instinctive: tri-pod set, camera mounted, wireless microphones receptive with a soft hum. Show hosts (and guests) scurry or saunter through the door, indicative of where their schedule has them next. Mood dictates from there on end, with care put forth in the hosts’ duties of ‘to-the-camera’ talk.

Carly, the ship’s Cruise Director leads the show with poise and grace, a lasting attribute to her years as a professional dancer. As she introduces each taping with the modulated directness of ‘Good morning and welcome to the morning show’ one becomes aware of her accent – Welsh, in fact – a welcomed air of regalness to what is essentially two talking heads. Personality is key.

Speaking of which, then there is Elvis, to whom no one forgets. Sidekick to Carly, the impeccably dressed, Chilean native, is unabashed in striking a pose, even when a defiant “CUT!” has been hollered from my direction and the camera has long ceased recording. They make a winning pair.

Evidently, they also become the faces of the ship, hermetically conceived “celebrities” in the microcosm of a floating city. And it is through my eyes and ears that their essence is captured through composition and the countdown of “…three, two, one.”

It is funny, but these ideas percolate after four months on board. Having taped the show well over a hundred times now, I occasionally take time aside to re-observe the end product through the filter of a television screen, seeing “The Morning Show” as a viewer, but also with the pleasure of being privy to the hosts’ bawdy inside jokes or an accidental bump I lend the tri-pod and recording camera; shake digitally preserved for all viewing eyes to see.

Yes, six nights a week and it is never predictable, unlike Elvis’ 6 pm call. I mean, really, who wants to be interrupted in the middle of corn pops?