Islay's election
The adjudicator's
verdict on the
party leaders
Kenneth Roy
Ian Hamilton QC has sent a message advising me that a man who has watched 18 party election broadcasts 'is unfit to address the nation'. I have bad news for my old friend in deepest Argyll. I have now chalked up a 19th, and a further address follows.
Yesterday I dealt with the minor players in tomorrow's election, including the Scottish Christian Party (friend of the sand eel, though not of the gay traveller), the doom-laden Socialist Labour Party which would have us digging for coal again, the creepy helmet-heided Scottish Socialist Party, the earnest Greens with their nice line in scarves, the loopy senior citizens and heaven knows who else. But it's time to get real. Today I propose to adjudicate the main turns.
The first night is already ancient history. It was the 5th of April. Osama Bin Laden was still alive, the Duchess of Cambridge was a single girl, people tended to work a five-day week, and it seemed unlikely that East Stirlingshire would finish bottom of the third division.
Yet I remember it well. It was the night I saw my first election broadcast.
In order of appearance:
A party election broadcast by the Scottish National Party
What can one say? A triumph. A palpable hit. In every department – acting, production, stage presentation, and that odd category 'endeavour, originality and attainment' – I give it high marks.
A group of three is gathered dolefully in a pub.
'Anything in the papers?'
'Usual rubbish about this election'.
'The Scottish Government. I mean, what have they ever done for us?'
From around the pub come the answers, forcing the doubters into increasingly desperate rhetoric. 'Free tuition fees, smaller class sizes, freezing the council tax, shorter hospital waiting times...but apart from that, what have the Scottish Government ever done for us?'
And then, the coup de theatre – El Presidente Salmondo appears at the bar.
'He seems to know a lot'.
'Well, he is Alex Salmond'.
'Don't be daft. Looks nothing like him'.
This production has four considerable qualities. First, it has a budget. Second, it has a script. Third, it has actors, Fourth, it has wit. My only caveat – of course I'm adjudicating here at a high level – is that it is just too slick and cocky for its own good. Also – a tiny point – must every party leader in this election wear a suit at all times, even in what purports to be an ordinary little pub? Do the party leaders go to bed with their ties immaculately knotted? I deduct a point for a lack of credibility in the costume department.
But I commend the leading actor for his seemingly effortless charisma. I see him as John Higgins in the inevitable film of the great man's life. I shall have a word in the appropriate ear.
Well, follow that. Instead we have:
A party election broadcast by the Scottish Labour Party
Alas, Iain Gray. He lacks star quality. Widely respected as a jobbing actor, but cast beyond his abilities.
Tonight they have him as a family man...'a father, a husband, a grandfather, a son...that's what fires me up'. It is hard to imagine Iain being fired up. He has this slow, sad voice. We are introduced to his niece, who is training to be a nurse 'for our NHS' and his nephew who is going to university 'to study engineering'.
'I'm a proud Scot,' he says, 'and I'm proud of my family too'.
Uh-huh. Thank you for that, Iain.
A party election broadcast by the Scottish Conservatives
'Right. That's you. You've had your biscuit. Be a good girl. On you go'.
As a snatch of opening dialogue, I have heard worse. The leader of the Scottish Conservatives is establishing her credentials as a brisk but kindly dog owner. Now she looks forward to an afternoon of relaxation with her binoculars.
'I like to get down by the river Clyde and do a bit of bird-watching...it's where some of your best thoughts come to you'.
Cue birds. Cue great thoughts.
'Negotiating...fighting...delivering for Scotland...straight talking...common sense...more common sense...use your common sense...use the peach ballot paper to vote for common sense...more common sense in your Scottish parliament...you hold the key to more common sense...'
Miss Goldie plays this easy role to near-perfection. She convinces us that her dog has common sense, that the dog's biscuit has common sense, that her binoculars have common sense, that the river Clyde has common sense, and that the peach ballot paper has common sense.
There is nothing to add...except, of course, more common sense.
A party election broadcast by the Scottish Liberal Democrats
Tavish Scott in an immaculate suit, wandering the streets of windy Edinburgh. Keep the polis local, he urges. Not much of a plot. By the end, people are snoring in the stalls.
Late in the third act, an old, half-forgotten player from the Glasgow University Thespians steps forward. 'Hi, I'm Charles Kennedy', he begins. There is a sardonic cheer from the gods. 'I'm proud to be supporting Tavish Scott. Join the campaign. Follow us on Twitter'.
The curtain falls.
A party election broadcast by the Scottish National Party
By popular demand, another chance to see 'What have the Scottish Government ever done for us?'.
A party election broadcast by the Scottish Labour Party
The basic problem is the script. Iain has been given some clunkingly awful lines. He repeats that stinker about being a proud Scot.
'I will keep talking about jobs every single day'. What every day? Every single day? The subversive rustle of sweetie papers being unwrapped can be heard in many parts of the auditorium. The audience is lost. The show is doomed.
I will spare you the rest: Iain being written out of the script in Labour's last stand; yet more common sense from Annabel Goldie; Tavish talking to himself on Calton Hill. All rather worrying.
Instead, I proceed to the results.
Best production: 'What have the Scottish Government ever done for us?'.
Best actor: El Presidente Salmondo.
Best actress: Bella's dug.
Kenneth Roy is editor of the Scottish Review. In his youth, he was a
drama adjudicator
