Following the death of the local MP, Newtown is hit by Election Fever. Kit takes every advantage to catapult himself into the national spotlight, and we witness a piece of political satire which could air today and still be relevant.

About

The fifth episode of The Kit Curran Radio Show, ‘Election Fever’, aired on the 7th of May 1984 on ITV. Fittingly for such a politically-minded episode, this was three days after local elections were held in the UK. 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.

Election Fever

This week, proving that our frequent caller George really isn’t invested in his complaints and grumblings, and is instead invested in just having some company, by the time Kit manages to speak to him, he’s forgotten his complaint! That sets the tone for the episode, which is full of things people just don’t want to talk about.

After dealing with George, Kit has a complaint of his own. He was walking through Newtown and not a single person recognised him. Even though he was wearing his Kit Curran cardigan, his Kit Curran tracksuit, his Kit Curran legwarmers, oh, and here’s the kicker: his Kit Curran glasses.

“I think I’m getting too low profile.”

Kit, it is absolutely impossible for you to be too low profile, just look at those glasses. They are the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen, and I hope they are still in a props wardrobe somewhere to be used at just the right moment.

Poor Damien appears hungover, but he still has to read the news. This makes for slightly depressing listening, honestly; he imparts a story about how a Conservative MP is complaining about the EEC (the forerunner to the EU) is busy trying to infringe on UK sovereignty by replacing the monarchy with a parliament of Frenchmen. They should have written that on the side of a bus, for all the accuracy it has. They could publish that news story currently, and I would believe it. More relevant to the show though, the local MP for Newtown has died, forcing a by-election.

A by-election, of course, means descending press. Which means attention for Kit. Which means… Fame. And, in fact, Kit launches into a high-energy rendition of ‘Fame’ which is honestly quite something. Lawson clambers all over the set and his co-stars in the single take as he sings, proving his West End cred. The studio audience even breaks into a round of applause, they’re that impressed! It really is quite delightful.

Roland summons the three of them to his office to impress on them the importance of good behaviour over the election season. ‘Reponsibility’ is the key word. And he’s quite right to be concerned, because the next thing we see if Kit flagrantly making up numbers for an opinion poll, portraying it as a three-way toss up between the Conservatives, Labour, and the SDP. Les is not impressed, but the damage is done; everyone has taken the poll as fact.

(For those of you who are perhaps, unaware of the mess that was British politics in the 1980s—a mess that our current politicians seem very much devoted to repeating, arguments over Europe and splitting parties and all—you should know that the SDP was a centre-left party, formed by four top Labour figures who defected from the party after disagreeing with the leadership’s position on Europe. They would eventually combine with the Liberal party to form the Liberal Democrats, who are still around today. Well. As of 2019. Who knows how much longer that will last.)

Newly primed political pundit Kit goes off to visit the local candidates. First up, Mr Bream, the conservative candidate, a middle-aged white man who has been parachuted into what was an assumed safe seat. He has a gigantic portrait of Margaret Thatcher up in his office, just in case you’d forgotten what year it was, and he even refers to her as ‘divine Margaret’. It is nauseating.

He tries to ingratiate himself to Kit, somewhat unsuccessfully, due to not actually knowing anything about anything. Mr Bream’s wife also thinks he’s cheating on her with his personal assistant—which he clearly is—and Kit overhears this entire conversation. Bad idea, giving Kit any potential ammunition. Kit does succeed in convincing Mr Breem to come and debate the other electoral candidates on his radio show, and also tries to push for a visit from Thatcher herself. He seems unlikely to get that one, but god would that be an interesting watch.

Meanwhile, Labour are mounting a far less swish campaign. Their candidate wants to focus on the issues, and ignore all these ‘cults of personality’ that have sprung up. Cue Kit hastily covering up his ‘Kit Curran is King’ t-shirt. (If anyone is running a personality cult, it’s Kit.) The candidate has one issue they don’t want to talk about though: Gay Rights. Fearing it will be a vote-loser if anyone finds out he supports it, much less finds out, as context-clues suggest, that he is gay, he asks Kit to not bring it up. Kit agrees.

Kit gathers them all together for what is sure to be an explosive debate! Or well. It isn’t. They’re busy arguing minute policy details and Kit is bored stiff. Les is falling asleep! Something has to be done about it. So Kit shakes things up.

He attacks the Conservative candidate on not being local so successfully that Mr Bream is left sputtering ‘well one of the best Kings England ever had was a Dutchman,’ which is the worst defence I’ve ever heard. Raises the issue of Gay Rights with the Labour Candidate. The candidate for the SDP—an older lady—attempts to portray her party as above the bickering squabbles, despite the SDP’s disagreement with the local liberal party. It devolves from there, to Kit’s gleeful delight.

After all, Kit gets himself on the TV, so clearly this strategy was all worth it, despite Roland’s complete and utter despair over the entire situation.

In the end, Newtown are stuck in their ways, and the election goes to the Conservatives to the tune of six thousand votes. So much for it being close. Kit seems genuinely upset at the departing press attention, and starts to wonder whether he should have run as a candidate himself. After all, he has all the qualities required of a politician; a consummate liar with desire for power and fame and no care for the people around him.

The new Conservative MP comes to visit, wanting to lay into Kit for his misrepresentation of the facts. Kit, ever charming, manages to completely redirect him, and the MP leaves under the impression that he owes Kit a favour. (which will surely come in favour when Kit gets into trouble down the line.) Damien has the last word, and how accurate they are:

“What an incredibly gullible prat.”

Verdict

For my money, this is the sharpest written episode of the series. There’s good moments for everyone involved, the political satire is bang on the money, and it’s just a delight to watch. Maybe my fondness for this episode is marked by the fact that it really hasn’t aged; you could honestly air it today, switch around some names and parties, and it would be a scathing indictment of the UK’s current politics.

The politicians presented here represent their parties in a microcosm: the Conservative is a Thatcher devotee, representing the hypocrisy of the party; the Labour candidate wants the election to be about policy, not personality, doesn’t want to be drawn into a controversy; the SDP candidate wishes to rise above it all whilst being involved with the bickering fighting between her party and the Liberals. The massive portrait of Thatcher, whilst extreme, accurately sums up the ardent worship she inspired from her devotees. Labour’s view on the gay rights issue is also notable, just for the timing—in 1985, a resolution was passed at the party conference that enshrined support for LGBTQ+ folks—but here we are a year and change from it, and what a difference that year makes.

Lawson being primarily known as an actor, it’s always remarkable how many people don’t know that he can sing, and even dance. This is a nice reminder that he’s got West End chops. I don’t think he was ever in Fame, but he sure knows the words. It’s a rip-roaring performance, and well worth watching that clip—you can find it here.

Wardrobe are also on fine form—though they’re saving pulling out all the stops for the finale next week—and there are some great outfits here. Particular shout-outs are due to Kit’s ‘King Kit’ sunglasses (where on earth did they come from, and I really do hope they are still in existence) and the leather jacket that Kit wears to go on his visits. Lawson looks good in a leather jacket. I’m glad wardrobe departments are in agreement on this.

On the whole, this episode is slick, and light on Kit’s outright ridiculous shenanigans. But never fear, we are going to make up for that double next week.

Next time

Next week, Kit gets his shot at the chance of a lifetime: a BBC prime-time DJ slot. Just one problem: how’s he going to wow them? Trust me, you don’t want to miss what he comes up with. All that and more to follow in the series one finale, The Kit Curran Radio Show: The Big Break.