This week, Radio Newtown faces declining listener figures, and Roland kickstarts some new programming attempts in order to boost them. Some of those ideas are more successful than others. And then Kit weighs in. All in all, no good can come of that.

About

The third episode of The Kit Curran Radio Show, ‘Bread and Circuses’, aired on the 16th of April 1984 on ITV. Produced by Thames Television and written by Andy Hamilton, it stars Denis Lawson as ‘Kit Curran’, Clive Merrison as ‘Damien Appleby’, Paul Brooke as ‘Les Toms’ and Brian Wilde as ‘Roland Simpson’.

Availability: Out on Region 2 DVD as of 2018. Be aware that the iTunes version is actually Series 2 mislabelled as Series 1. The watch quality of the DVD is better than these screencaps suggest—it’s certainly an improvement over the VHS rips of re-runs that were circling before it was released—but you can tell the footage hasn’t been best preserved.

Bread and Circuses

As always, the episode starts off with a caller complaint. This week, it’s something very topical (well, for 1984)—the issue of dual key on nuclear weapons. George says that it’s always a good thing to have a spare set of keys. Which I guess is true, but the world would definitely be a better place if we didn’t have the ability to launch nuclear weapons with a turn of a key.

After starting sedate, wardrobe finally start having some real fun this episode! Kit’s neon pink cardigan is definitely something to see—it even gets a laugh from the studio audience! It’s not the last we’ll see of Kit in neon pink either, as it’s his signature colour. Who knows how much that cardigan set him back—but he definitely is spending too much money on something or other, because he tells Les he has an open overdraft of £9843.68. (For reference, the Bank of England’s inflation counter puts that at over £31,000 in today’s money. Sheesh.)

Kit is not the only one having woes with numbers: Radio Newtown’s listener numbers are also dropping sharply. This, of course, necessitates a team meeting in Roland’s office, featuring the entire motley crew. (Look at how Kit sticks out! In his neon cardigan and bright blue trousers!)

“I’ve seen more people in Newtown listen to Radio Moscow than listen to us.”

Roland reads out some choice responses to a commissioned survey and suffice to say, the prevailing opinion of the responses is that folks do not think highly of their current programming. Radio Newtown needs some new programming, some fresh content to shake things up! In jumps Kit, pitching the “Kit Curran Chit-Chat Circus”, which will make a fine addition to the four existing programmes that Kit fronts. (Not including Wildman’s slot!) In response, Damien delivers a truly spectacularly scathing indictment of chat shows, the fools who host them, and the entire rigmarole.

Instead of Kit’s chat-show, Roland instead decides that what the station really needs is some poverty porn. He sends Kit and Les out to a working-class estate, described as “so rough even the skinheads won’t go there.” Under the guise of getting some opinions from residents about ‘local issues’, Kit and Les go door-to-door, less than successfully. It gets worse when they attract the attention of some local lads, who really don’t like Kit. So they attempt to turn the car he’s in over, because that’s a completely civil way of dealing with your issues.

Meanwhile, Damien has also been gifted a new programme. He’s chairing a political debate. I’m sure it’ll go fine—Damien being known for his patience and composure when it comes to political issues (not.) Moderating a discussion on the arms race between a local Labour councillor and the local Conservative MP, it doesn’t take long for things to get out of hand. Damien’s general distaste for the Conservatives (who, let’s be honest, were up to some not-great-things in the eighties) gets the better of him pretty fast, and from there, the entire thing descends into chaos.

Unsurprisingly, none of these ideas improve Radio Newtown’s listening figures. Quite the opposite in fact. Faced with a failing strategy, Roland grants creative control over to Kit. Kit wastes no time initiating a number of bonkers ideas.

I’m pretty sure radio stations shouldn’t be running bingo games—it tends to fall afoul of gambling regulations—but it’s probably worth it to see Lawson do some truly impressive foley work as he imitates the entire ball drop. The entire affair is, of course, a complete scam, as Kit is reading off his own bingo card, and then, when he completes it, calls in pretending to have won it. (which does mean we get to see Lawson talk to himself again, which is always a lot of fun.) Somehow though, it pays off, so Kit continues pursuing his nonsense. Of course, every time Kit says “trust me” I do the exact opposite.

I’ve really got nothing on the tragedy that is that shirt, but I guess he has at least boosted the audience figures? His other efforts include “Lust on Kilimanjaro” which is essentially a lot of breathy moaning and innuendo, though it is fun to watch Kit direct, and a Talent Show. Unfortunately, Newtown doesn’t seem to be possessed of many folks with talents (which perhaps explains how Kit got to where he is). A truly abysmal rendition of ‘Ferry cross the Mersey’ is followed by a lady juggling fruit. Yes, on a radio talent show. It doesn’t work.

Roland isn’t entirely happy about the direction Kit’s taking programming—especially not after a call from the IBA, but Kit manages to sweet-talk him round. (Roland really, really needs to learn to not trust Kit.) It helps that Kit is bringing in record listening figures. So, maybe Roland can just let go of his standards, just a bit. Well, until he overhears Kit on the radio, preparing for a piece on the ‘sexual preferences of the royal family.’ This is so distressing that Roland faints clean away, and hits his head badly. Waking up in hospital to Kit and co—his worst nightmare, I’m sure—I think this time, Kit may have gone too far.

Verdict

This is where things really start to get interesting, I reckon. If you thought Kit was a bit devious before, well, he just gets worse. There’s some proper wild scheming in this episode, all of it over the top and likely to get someone in trouble.

I don’t know if anyone else ever gets featured on Radio Newtown, given Kit’s dizzying array of shows. Clearly they do, though, from the array of people in the team meeting and all those we were introduced to in the first episode. Still, Roland is kidding himself if he thinks that Radio Newtown is anything other than a delivery platform for Kit’s ego.

Damien’s scathing chat show host diatribe is one of the highlights of the episode, a real run of form as far as the writing and Merrison’s delivery is concerned. He gets another good shot at expressing his dissatisfaction later on, in the political debate. All in all, Damien is the real MVP this episode.

Kit’s lean towards to dramatic and incendiary to get the listening figures up is, well, very similar to the tactics employed by various click-bait writers on the internet today. It doesn’t quite border on fake news—no, wait for series two for that one—but Kit would have a field day in today’s media environment. Hopefully, he’d just be an agent of chaos rather than anything malicious. Of all of Kit’s ideas in this episode, “Lust on Kilimanjaro” is probably my favourite, because honestly, what’s the harm in a little bit more obviously fake smutty content on the radio?

All in all, the negative consequences of all this revitalised programming fall on everyone but Kit: Les’s injured arm, Damien’s black eye, and Roland’s hospital visit. While he might take a step back following all of this, Kit certainly hasn’t been dissuaded in the long term.

Next time

Next week, Kit decides to try and make everyone look on the bright side of life. And literally brighten it up, with the world’s supply of neon-pink. All that and more, to follow in The Kit Curran Radio Show: P is for Positive.