PODCASTS are fantastic if getting older necessitates a bit of exercise – I have embraced life’s buffet over the years and now it is getting harder to burn it off.
Without wishing to compromise my lifestyle too dramatically, the only option is a bit of physical balancing. In my case, that means cycling and trips to the gymnasium. Unless you’re Forest Gump, the mind numbing repetitiveness of these tasks can challenge commitment and that’s where podcasts come in. Last week, two of my favourites were scrapped.
I find Russell Brand and Jonathan Ross’ radio shows very funny and amusing – in that order. Brand’s humour is delivered at high velocity in the archaic English of a Victorian cartoon character. Ross’ more masculine approach offers amusing anecdotes of urbane family life.
It goes without saying that both are idiots. That’s always been part of the job description for radio DJs since even before the Hairy Cornflake uttered his first “quack quack oops.”
We’ve all met people like them. They’re the blokes in the pub who are very amusing for ten minutes before it starts getting uncomfortable. Their self-centred appetite for approval quickly wears thin and you feel if you don’t keep feeding it they will have a complete breakdown: laughter can rapidly turn to tears in the bipolar world of the comedy broadcaster.
They both have entourages to help avert a psychiatric emergency. Usually these lower paid network employees, through either fear or ambition, are eager to bask in the glow of celebrity. They will laugh obediently at anything and willingly allow themselves to be worked into a fever pitch of hilarity.
What happens, though, if you change the formula a bit? Remove the sycophantic juniors and just have two of the most highly paid, narcissistic presenters in the world on the same show. When Russell Brand invited Jonathan Ross to co-host his show on October 18 it was a car crash waiting to happen. From the start, both were jockeying for comedic supremacy, fuelled by high octane hysteria. There was a lot a stake – reputation and money (Ross’s inane jibber jabber earns him £4 million a year). The two were supervised by a 25-year-old producer. Something had to give and it quickly did in the form of repeated abuse left on Andrew Sach’s answer phone.
Andrew Sachs isn’t Manuel out of ‘Fawlty Towers’ any more. He’s a quiet, respectable 78-year-old British actor. For those of you who don’t know, Brand and Ross left repeated message on his phone alluding to Brand’s carnal knowledge of his granddaughter. She’s 23 and a member of the Satanic Sluts whose website describes them as “unholy bitches” who indulge, intriguingly, in “nun abuse”.
With that background, she can probably handle herself. Her grandfather, on the other hand, doesn’t deserve that treatment. Especially as this was broadcast on a radio network funded by the licence paying public. Not only that, but it was pre-recorded and therefore should have been edited out.
This wasn’t cutting edge radio pushing the boundaries of entertainment. It was bullying mob humour led by a couple of twits. I’m surprised that Russell Brand hasn’t been pulled up before. Every week, he seems to offend with jibes against Christianity (obviously he wouldn’t dare poke fun at Islam, nor would the BBC sanction it ), or jaunty tales of his Class A drug addiction days. It’s surprising too, that in an environment of increasing teenage pregnancies and infections in the UK, his message of prolific promiscuity hasn’t been edited more closely.
This was a step too far. Brand has resigned, as has the controller of BBC 2 – the former’s resignation was videoed with a picture of Stalin in the background (I kid you not). Ross is on a 12-week suspension, which will cost him £1 million in lost pay. In the long run, it will do neither of them any harm. If anything it will add to their notoriety and bank balances.
This is a wake-up call for public sponsored British broadcasting. Do we need light entertainment programming that is preceded by warnings of strong language and adult content? We have collectively granted power of attorney over our humour to these media eejits. It’s easy to claim it back by switching it off and talking to each other again.
In the meantime though, I must admit, I will rather miss these two podcasts.
