I covered every day of the Russell Brand trial… no amount of prayers were ever going to save him Rewrite the following news story as a viral, SEO-optimized article using HTML headings ( , , etc.) for all sections and sub-headings. Only output the article body. — Russell Brand’s trial had been underway for only a week when the verbose comedian and born-again Christian literally asked God to stop him from saying something stupid that would land him in jail. ‘Please God help me in this moment not to do anything that’s about showing off or trying to make myself feel better or anything that’s clumsy,’ he told his six million ‘Sunday Service’ podcast followers on YouTube. ‘Please guard my mouth and guard my lips…’ In the end, no amount of prayers could save 51-year-old Brand from his own big mouth in the witness box. The jury saw through his blather and rejected his protestations that, although he’d morally sinned against women in attempting to bed 5,000 of them in his youth, he’d never raped or sexually assaulted any of them. Today, the disgraced actor was found guilty of rape and three sexual assaults and has been warned by the judge he faces a ‘significant’ jail term when he next appears at Southwark Crown Court on Monday. I was in court for every day of Brand’s trial. Each day he arrived in his black people carrier, with his bible-bashing entourage in tow – more of which later – like he was turning up for a film premiere or red-carpet event. Dressed smartly and always wearing sunglasses, Brand occasionally waved to the smattering of bemused commuters (the legions of female fans who flocked to his gigs at the height of his fame were noticeably absent) that stopped to see who the large pen of press photographers on the court steps were waiting for, before giving reporters a morning sound bite and striding inside. I say striding, but a more accurate description would be that Brand glided into court three each day. He carries his 6ft 2in frame awkwardly, chest all puffed out and head held strangely still and straight, like someone with whiplash or a cricked neck. At the start he appeared confident, smiling (albeit slightly manically) towards us journalists who were sat in the press benches just a few feet behind him, and charming the court staff, who agreed to his unusual request to leave the door to the dock open so he could see his wife, Laura Gallacher, 39, father Ron, 82, and other supporters, sat to his right in the public gallery. For almost all of the four-week trial Brand, who told one interviewer he felt like Hannibal Lecter in the glass-panelled ‘aquarium’ dock, couldn’t have been more different to his loud, expressive public persona. Occasionally clutching a crucifix – or sometimes wearing one around his neck – he would arrive to take his seat and immediately drop to one knee, as if in prayer, before sitting remarkably still and impassive, in a perfect upright posture, with his hands on his knees throughout. At various points during the evidence, particularly when watching the video recorded interviews of his victims, as they recounted the horror of what he’d done to them, Brand closed his eyes for several seconds and appeared to be performing some kind of meditation or quiet contemplation. Only on day 13, when it was his turn to give his testimony, did he literally spring into life, bounding to the witness box before declaring loudly and emphatically, under questioning from his own barrister, Ian Winter KC, that he was not responsible for the heinous crimes alleged against him. His tone and volume, however, noticeably changed once Riel Karmy-Jones KC, the diminutive lead prosecutor, set about unpicking his version of events. Brand, who stood up to deliver his evidence, physically towered over the female barrister, in much the same way she suggested he’d dominated his much smaller female victims. But mentally he was no match for the erudite Karmy-Jones. When she caught him off guard with her questions Brand noticeably paused, struggling and stumbling to find an answer. On one occasion, Karmy-Jones broke the tension by probing: ‘Is that a difficult question, Mr Brand?’ Watching the pair’s verbal sparring from the other side of the room was fascinating. As her cross-examination went on Brand’s answers became noticeably quieter, he repeatedly muttered ‘no’ as she suggested he’d treated the women like animals, had sex or kissed or touched them against their will, in pursuit of his ‘birth-right orgasm’ without caring if they consented or not. No doubt instructed to keep his answers brief, by the end of his almost five hours in the witness box Brand couldn’t help but slip into his usual vernacular, explaining with his familiar word salad how he regretted his promiscuous past. ‘I recognise I’ve been a very determined and focused man with regards to women and I’ve been persuasive, seductive, begged and flirted, and dedicated a lot of my life, it seems, to beyond reckless philandering and idiocy,’ Brand, who famously won a tabloid newspaper’s Shagger of the Year award three years on the trot, told the jury. He claimed the 2023 Channel 4 Dispatches documentary and associated investigation by the Sunday Times, which prompted his six female accusers to finally report him to police, had caused so much damage to his reputation that his former management team and friends would no longer touch him with a barge pole. None were willing to come to court to vouch for him and instead Brand was forced to ask his own wife, Laura, the daughter of professional golfer and Ryder Cup captain Bernard Gallacher, and sister of TV sports presenter, Kirsty Gallacher, to take the stand, in a desperate attempt to persuade the jury he was not a rapist. Ms Gallacher admitted she did not meet Brand, a former drug and sex addict, until 2006 – when he rather unchivalrously tried to hit on her friend in the foyer of a gig only to turn his attention to her when the friend revealed she had a boyfriend – until after the first four women had been allegedly attacked. But when she argued with Ms Karmy-Jones about whether she’d been in touch with Brand in 2009 (when his final two victims were assaulted) for the first time he became very animated in the dock, patronisingly nodding and mouthing encouragement towards his wife and laughing when he believed she’d outsmarted the barrister by rebuffing her difficult questions. He also started staring intently at myself and two of my colleagues – according to Brand we are part of the ‘corrupt, empire media’ – on the front row of the press bench, before mouthing some kind of chant or prayer in our direction. ‘It looked like he was trying to put a curse on us,’ one of them joked uneasily afterwards. It was somewhat unnerving but by then reporters had grown used to members of Brand’s entourage openly praying in the corridors, as if seeking some kind of divine intervention during breaks in proceedings. The former television presenter conveniently found God in April 2024 – six months after allegations about his conduct surfaced – announcing his pivot to religion with a very public baptism by adventurer and fellow Christian Bear Grylls in the River Thames. He spent a week converting to Christianity, then cashed in on his redemption by writing a book, ‘How to become a Christian in 7 days*(May take 50 years of sin and serious f*** ups to get started). In Florida, where Brand is now based, his bible tales are lapped up by millions who subscribe to his ‘Stay Free’ podcast and several of his ‘disciples’ from the US church he frequents also attended his trial in person. One man was seen placing his hands on Brand and praying in some kind of healing ritual, while another young woman, thought to be his executive assistant, paced up and down the hallway outside court three muttering prayers under her breath while clutching a string of rosary beads. A third man, with an uncanny resemblance to former Prime Minister Keir Starmer, Brand simply addressed as ‘Brother Tom.’ Another doppelganger present at the court almost every day was fellow Christian Jake Smith, Brand’s lookalike American manager and singer, who also produces his podcast episodes. The father-of-six had a cameraman in tow and is rumoured to be helping Brand make a documentary of his ‘ordeal’. David Fields, an entrepreneur and addiction counsellor who regularly appears on Brand’s show, was also in attendance most days. Another American, he also hosts his own podcast with controversial ex-US Navy Seal Eddie Gallagher, who was convicted of posing with the dead body of a 17-year-old ISIS fighter in Iraq, in which they interview guests with ‘amazing stories’ of forgiveness and redemption. Another key member of Brand’s entourage was his boxer bodyguard Joe McCann. A former sparring partner of world heavyweight boxing champion Tyson Fury, McCann would exit the people carrier ahead of Brand and his wife, gruffly clearing press photographers out the way for them to get into the building each day. Although only 5ft 10ins tall, heavily tattooed McCann, who appears to have had a hair transplant and wears his new ginger locks up in a man bun, is a stern and intimidating figure. As well as glaring at the media from the public gallery, he stood up while the jury was being selected and appeared to eyeball each of them when the court clerk picked out their names at random and called them to serve. Also a believer, McCann, who like Brand says he is ‘living sober,’ has a passion for boxing and fitness as well as ‘meditation and yoga,’ according to his social media. He was first pictured with Brand in 2022 and posts on his Instagram page show the pair, and Fields, on a ‘pilgrimage’ to Rome, where they visited the Vatican together, in March last year. The sight of Brand and this strange band of misfits having a pow wow each day in a disabled toilet (the state of the British justice system is such that the large lavatory was converted into a consultation room as nowhere else suitable was available) with his lawyers was nothing short of bizarre. Add to that the coincidence of Right-wing activist Tommy Robinson, who Brand says he ‘admires’ and ‘enjoys,’ also being on trial (he was subsequently convicted of harassing two Mail journalists) at the same time on the floor below, and R&B singer Chris Brown sentenced in the same building for glassing a London nightclub reveller with a bottle of tequila halfway through the case, and there was more drama from the celebrity sinners at Southwark Crown Court over the past few weeks than in the Big Brother house, whose spin-off show Brand famously used to present. Following his convictions and with Scotland Yard continuing to investigate more allegations, Brand is not only facing a lengthy spell in jail but also a slew of civil claims from the women he abused that could obliterate his £16m fortune. Some might say that tonight, when his prison cell door clinks shut for the first time, that the only thing he has left to pray for is a miracle. Source: WorldNewsAPI | Read original
