The Unshaven Pursuit of the Unexpected

There are two observations made about working in Radio which are repeated so often that they have gone past the realms of cliche and onto a much higher and more banal plain.

The first - who'd have thought it - is that because there are no cameras (unlike in telly!) you can turn up to work without 40 tons of make up and still do your job.

The second, and this is really insightful, is that if you work in Breakfast radio, you have to get up early. And that the noise of your alarm going off at 4.12am or whatever isn't really much fun.

Really? Can this be true?

Both of these observations were made this weekend in the Guardian's Saturday magazine. A photo article - capturing "Britain's best and most contraversial presenters" - was the magazine's cover story. What followed was ten pages of pictures of our 'favourite' broadcasters accompanied by little more than adverts for the programmes they present. Very, very lazy indeed. 

Not only that, the pictures were standard publicity shots - there might have been at least an attempt by the magazine to take snaps of these presenters actually in studio, actually doing their jobs, actually giving us something interesting to see. But, no. Pointlessly lame. Unless of course a really big picture of Chris Tarrant's face is what you're after.

It's also just struck me that of the 27 presenters mentioned, all but 7 work for the BBC. There's plenty of talented broadcasters working in commercial radio - but they were notable by their absence from this shockingly prosaic waste of paper.

Of all the comments made by the DJs and journalists featured, only one stuck in my mind because of its way with words and it came from an unlikely source: Nicky Campbell.

Unfortunately, I just can't take him seriously because he seems to take himself so very seriously. I'm sure he's very good but every question he asks seems like he's overcompensating for once having presented the TV gameshow Wheel of Fortune. Nicky, please stop trying so hard. Simon Mayo once fronted a Saturday night primetime show for idiots called Confessions and yet you can't hear him straining for credibility (even if in reality he is).

The comment that I found so memorable in an otherwise embarrassing use of ten pages of the magazine, was Nicky Campbell's description of what he does, five mornings a week. He called it: "The unshaven pursuit of of the unexpected." Marvellous. As a description of what radio is all about, its pretty much spot on for three reasons. One, that yes, you don't have to look your best in order to perform at your best. Two: Radio is the most instant of all media and what you're always after is an unexpected moment, something surprising, funny or moving which becomes the highlight of your whole show.

Most of all though, is reason three. On radio all you really have is words. They are your tools and in the right hands, wonderful things can be made. If you can't command the English language, you're never going to be a great broadcaster. I'm not saying that Nicky Campbell is one, but at least he'd bothered to think of an articulate response to a boring question and demonstrate a turn of phrase we could all be proud of.

Well done, Nicky. I think I'll start quoting you.

In the Loop... and ahead of the pack

This is Malcolm Tucker. He's the frighteningly believable but sadly only fictional creation of the cleverest man in Britain: Armando Iannucci.

It's Malcolm's job to keep the flotsam and jestam of Government ministers - blown from one deeply held opinion to the next by the tide of popular opinion - in line. He throws himself at this task with such wholehearted, venomous force that to watch him go about it on the cinema screen is an experience akin to having your eyes sliced open with a rusty bottle-opener. I imagine. 

Malcolm is the main character in 'In the Loop', Armando Iannucci's big screen version of his rightly acclaimed BBC TV series 'The Thick Of It'. I'm happy to say that operating on the larger canvas of film does nothing to stretch the quality of the writing and perfomances on display. 

The strength of the TV series was a winning combination of biting political satire and swearwords. Happily, the same formula is at work in the film. Had they decided to have a swear-box on set, we could probably do away with the BBC licence fee instantly and run the Corporation on its daily takings instead.

The TV show successfully got the measure of Westminster. This film adds Washington and the United Nations into the mix. What you get is a seemingly limitless stream of invective from Malcolm as he tries to keep his Government's plans for war on an unnamed rogue state on track. The case for the real war against Iraq looks so flimsy now as to place it almost beyond satire, so the strength of the film is to use this merely as a backdrop. Instead it's an expletive driven romp which explores the failings of the human character just as thouroughly as it does Roger Melly's Profanisaurus.

Cabinet Ministers incompetently chase any opportunity to advance their careers. Their aides mumble backstage about their employers' shortcomings whilst demonstrating no more self-awareness themselves. And the American big guns show that stupidity, arrogance and hubris are definitely all amongst their super-powers.

In the midst of this circus is Malcolm Tucker (A word here for the actor Peter Capaldi whose performance as Malcolm can only be defined as exhilarating).

In one of the film's most satisfying scenes, Malcolm's puppeteering looks like it's about to flop and Capaldi's face shows the tiniest flicker of recognition that his barking, snarling tactics are for once useless. Another flicker and his split second of impotence is over but its shadow remains and that's what makes him the hero of the piece, if not quite the Ringmaster.

I strongly urge you to spend some time in the company of Malcolm when 'In the Loop' debuts at the cinema on 17th April. It'll be worth the admission price alone when you get to the scene about MP's expenses: Ultra-prescient genius. This film was written and shot months before we knew about the McNultys' or the Smiths' indiscressions - and that's what makes Armando Iannucci's commentary on the political game so clear-sighted. He does both the sophisticated and the base perfectly.

Actually, you might want to take a notepad in with you just to jot down some of the more choice put-downs and name-calling. If you get cut up at some traffic lights or spend too long on hold to your bank, they'll keep you going for a year. The trouble is, they come so thick and fast you'll certainly need shorthand.