Peter Hain comment times 29.03.15
Transcription
Peter Hain comment times 29.03.15
Document:/The Sunday Times/Editorial/Production/Pages/Print/The Sunday Times/News/2015-03-29/1WN-News-027.pgl Author:kmullin Date:28/03/2015 18:49:28 SUNDAY TIMES Print/Wales-01 ... 29/03/2015 29.03.15 / 27 P R O F I L E JA M E S C O R D E N The blob from Bucks turns into the talk of LA W A s part of his introduction to America, James Corden stripped off for GQ magazine: a cheeky photo shoot shows him washing up wearing just a Union Jack apron and matching socks. The magazine’s US readers were probably baffled. Even the week before Corden took over as host of The Late Late Show, people walking past a vast billboard of his face outside CBS Television City in Los Angeles claimed not to know who he was. When the comedian went to buy lunch and forgot his pass, a CBS security guard didn’t recognise him and refused to let him back into the building. Critics wondered whether Corden could pull off such a prestigious new job running a talk show in a land that hasn’t heard of Gavin, never mind Stacey. The answer, against the odds, seems to be yes. Corden’s starstudded debut show — a mixture of on-the-sofa chitchat and sketches featuring Tom Hanks, Mila Kunis, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Meryl Streep, Simon Cowell and Eddie Redmayne — was an instant hit. A clip of Corden and Hanks performing all of Hanks’s films in less than seven minutes went viral on You Tube and has now been viewed more than 9m times. Corden, 36 — the youngest late-night host on a US television network — played on his inexperience, telling the audience: “I’m from a place called High Wycombe, which you almost certainly will never have heard of.” The night’s entertainment opened with a very funny sketch supposedly relating how Corden got the job by winning a Charlie and the Chocolate Factory-style golden ticket in a confectionery bar: the ticket leads him to a warehouse where he is put through a talk-show host boot camp, coached by chat-show titan Jay Leno, encouraged by Streep when it seems he’ll never get it right and subjected to a fitness regime by Schwarzenegger, who prods Corden’s chubby middle and says: “You don’t look like a talk-show host.You look like two!” (This despite Corden having previously lost six stone by cutting out bread and sugar, as well as recently hiring a personal trainer in the run-up to the show.) CNN said it was “one of the smoothest first episodes of any new talk-show host’s in recent memory”. Variety magazine’s Brian Lowry described Corden as “natural and likeable” and said his Late Late Show contained moments of “inspired lunacy”. Tim Goodman of The Hollywood Reporter wrote of Corden: “He’s different. The glaring difference is that he comes without any snark.” Leno agreed: “He’s a very funny guy and he’s an especially likeable guy . . . I think the era of ironic snarkiness is over in America.” Within hours the bookmaker Coral was giving 7-1 odds on Corden hosting the next Oscars ceremony. “Well, so many truly lovely messages about the show tonight,” Corden tweeted, declaring he was the luckiest man alive: “I’m blown away, thank you.” His strategy — being nice — had paid off. “The biggest struggle is trying to convince people that this is a place where no one is ever going to be the butt of the joke,” he said as he was rehearsing. “All we want is our guests to shine because if the guests shine, the show shines . . . then I shine.” That’s how he likes it: his earliest memory is standing on a chair, aged four, at the christening of his younger sister Ruth, pulling faces while people laughed. “This felt good. Really good,” he recalled in his autobiography, May I Have Your Attention, Please? “In my head it became simple: if people are looking at me, and only me, it feels amazing. And that was that. From that day forward, every day became a quest to be noticed. To have the attention of people. Of you.” That innate tendency to show off has served him well at some points and ill at others. When he is new to a project and learning the ropes, Corden seems eager to please, but after his huge success with Gavin & Stacey — co-written with Ruth Jones — fame seemed to go to his head. He spent a couple of years arrogantly berating critics, demanding to know at a Bafta ceremony in 2008 why his show had not been nominated in one category when he had just won in another. It was as if a posher version of Smithy, the needy, beer-soused plumber he created in Gavin & Stacey, had come to life. T CHARLES CLOVER Nye Bevan’s legacy will continue to secure seats A CLIP OF CORDEN AND TOM HANKS PERFORMING ALL OF HANKS’S FILMS IN LESS THAN SEVEN MINUTES WENT VIRAL ON YOUTUBE he grass hadn’t yet begun to grow on the verges as I drove along several A-roads recently, so the volume of litter was noticeable. I wasn’t alone: a reader wrote to say he was appalled by the amount of litter on the banks and in the hedgerows along the M6, particularly around junction 13, near Stafford. He said, rather memorably, that it was symptomatic of a selfish nation with no civic pride. I recalled similar sentiments in the obituaries of Singapore’s first prime minister, Lee Kuan Yew, who died last week aged 91. Lee, a brilliant Cambridge lawyer, expected the highest standards of his people in the years after independence in 1965 and imposed fines for littering, spitting, begging, driving dirty cars and chewing gum. Lee expressed admiration for Margaret Thatcher alone among western leaders, and in later interviews indicated that he had lost respect for the West because of a general decline in personal responsibility. Eventually Rob Brydon, a co-star on the show, took him aside and told him he was in danger of looking like an idiot. Corden took his advice to heart. “He’s changed remarkably,” said Steve Bennett, founder of comedy website Chortle. “He’s grown up and mellowed.” Much of the credit for this goes to the steadying influence of his wife, Julia Carey, a charity worker whom Corden met through his friend and fellow actor Dominic Cooper (both appeared in Alan Bennett’s drama The History Boys). He and Carey have two children. Corden’s parents were in the first-night audience last week; he thanked them for all the support they had given him, then added that they were enjoying life in Los Angeles: “They are eating kale every day and my mum is getting a boob job.” He was born in Hillingdon, west London, and brought up in Buckinghamshire. His father was a musician with the RAF band and his mother a social worker. He was the adored brother with two sisters and his childhood was happy and unremarkable, though for some reason, “I was always the kid at school who thought it was a good idea to set off the fire alarm.” The cause of his chronic attention-seeking is a mystery. “When I look back, I think, God, that’s all it was ever about,” he said when his autobiography was published in 2011. “I wish I did have some sort of story where I was, you know, beaten as a child, but there was none of that.” His first part was a one-liner in the musical Martin Guerre in 1996 when he was 18. He appeared in the drama series Teachers and had a small part in the soap Hollyoaks. His breakthrough was playing the part of Timms in The History Boys at the National Theatre and later in New York, Sydney, Wellington and Hong Kong. “He came into the room to audition for Alan Bennett and me,” recalled Nicholas Hytner, the outgoing artistic director of the National Theatre, “and he took the room over. He appeared to be extraordinarily confident and charming and funny. He said afterwards that he was covering up for extreme nerves.” Gavin & Stacey ate up the next three years of his life, then came the bad patch. A sketch show, Horne & The West evidently feels there is a lot to learn from Singapore, though its critics have always pointed to the corporal and capital punishment, the mild authoritarianism and the intolerance of journalistic criticism. The American vice-president, Joe Biden, a Democrat, didn’t seem to mind that Lee banned long hair. He flew in to sign the book of condolences while Lee’s people queued for up to nine hours to pay their respects. The lessons of Singapore’s success are not just economic — though its growth has been vertiginous. We should remember that Lee guided Singapore from being a slum to an eco-city. He promised “the cleanest and greenest city in southeast Asia” in 1968 and duly delivered it. In parts of Britain, notably the north, that’s a lesson we would do well to absorb. What Lee knew instinctively was that a good living environment was at the heart of respect for each other and the law. He worried about litter, a symptom of wider social decay that encouraged crime and Corden (a partnership with Mathew Horne, who played Gavin, the pair aiming to be a latter-day Morecambe and Wise) is described by one critic as a “train wreck”. The boy who couldn’t do anything wrong suddenly couldn’t do anything right. “The absolute truth is I wasn’t good enough,” Corden said later. He was rescued by Hytner, who cast him in One Man, Two Guvnors, a comedy that was a huge hit on both sides of the Atlantic and won Corden a Tony award. “The point about James,” Hytner said at the time, “is that, for a couple of years, he allowed people to get the wrong impression of him. He appeared to be just some fat celebrity with a sharp tongue. The real James comes in eight times a week and gives everything to this physically exhausting show.” Success brought out the best in him again. “Corden’s strength is that he can charm the pants off anyone. That’s what’s allowed him to go around the England football team for Comic Relief and insult them — he can get away with almost anything because people like him,” said Stephen Armstrong, The Sunday Times’s comedy critic. “The launch The Late Late Show has had says that CBS has decided to back him all the way. These shows are totemic in America; the fact that he attracted so many stars isn’t just down to his force of personality: the channel wants him to succeed. It will have taken months to get that show together. “He’s riding a wave — Brits are doing extremely well in America at the moment. Gavin & Stacey might have only played on a minor TV station in New York and Los Angeles but the right people will have seen it.” The fuss over The Late Late Show might seem a bit odd to us. It goes out week nights at 12.35am, which on British television would be the graveyard slot. Corden’s debut pulled in 1.7m viewers. An interview given while he was still in London was published last week in which he was asked, on a scale of one to 10, how famous he is. “Where — walking down Oxford Street right now?” Corden replied. “There’s no way of answering this without sounding like a dick, is there? I’m going to go for . . . six. I can’t allow myself to go more.” instability, which he feared. He also paid attention to green causes such as selfsufficiency in water and air pollution. In Britain, it has been clearly shown that littering and deprivation go hand in hand: the scruffiest parts of England are the poorest, according to a survey by Keep Britain Tidy last year. The overall presence of crime is far greater on streets where litter, graffiti and fly-posting are present. That doesn’t mean the poor and uneducated like living with litter; they don’t. It is often about how they are governed. What doesn’t seem to have occurred to anybody here, but did to Lee and to New York in the 1990s, is that it is possible to reverse the trend in crime and build desirable neighbourhoods by being incredibly tough on litter. Britain is a litter-ridden country compared with most of Europe, North America and Japan, as a committee of MPs said this month. Levels of litter have hardly improved in 12 years and best estimates are that cleaning it up in England costs up to £850m a year. Fly- hy are Welsh nationalists so dormant and Scottish nationalists so rampant? On the rugby pitch England is the old enemy, but separation for Wales is unthinkable except to a minority. Even Plaid Cymru has pushed its favoured independence into the far-flung future. Where Wales is also fervently patriotic, its language spoken by one in five citizens and proudly transmitted through rail station announcements and road signs, in Scotland Gaelic is hardly spoken. To outsiders it is a baffling conundrum. In Scotland the SNP is riding high, whereas in Wales Plaid Cymru is trailing far behind. And yet back in 1999, when Labour stormed to victory in the first Scottish elections, the same party in the first Welsh assembly elections lost iconic former coal mining heartlands such as Rhondda, Neil Kinnock’s Islwyn and “safe” Caerphilly, after Tony Blair had blocked the popular Rhodri Morgan from being Labour first minister. Painful though that was, in retrospect it was a blessing. The party reinvented itself as Welsh Labour and Morgan soon succeeded Alun Michael, who was just as Welsh as Morgan but cursed with being “London’s parachute”. New, campaigning candidates were chosen in the heartlands lost to Plaid, and won back in 2003. By then Morgan had become a “father of the nation” leader with a quixotic blend of rugby populism and intellectually grounded “clear red water” policy distance from Blairism. Where most of Scottish Labour’s “big figures” either remained in or headed for Westminster, less so in Wales, where today some of Labour’s brightest young politicians, such as Vaughan Gething and Ken Skates, chose the assembly and are new Welsh ministers. Meanwhile, after what proved a minor heart scare, the popular Welsh nationalist leader Dafydd Wigley had been unceremoniously dumped for a decent but anonymous Ieuan Wyn Jones. Jones was succeeded by an able but equally downbeat Leanne Wood. With Wigley out of the picture, Plaid had no Alex Salmond or Nicola Sturgeon. Morgan was followed as Labour first minister by the less ideological but equally charismatic Carwyn Jones who, when the Conservatives took over in Westminster, moved to command anti-Tory Welsh political ground, storming to victory in a 2011 referendum to deliver full law-making powers similar to those in Scotland. Welsh Labour, not Welsh nationalists, spoke for Wales, with Labour’s government in Cardiff refusing to treble student tuition fees or to adopt the privatising, market-driven NHS reforms in England. Although David Cameron has mounted a sustained attack on Welsh Labour’s stewardship of the NHS, his Offa’s Dyke pronunciation on the difference between life and death was widely viewed as offensively propagandist across public opinion in Wales. Nobody suggested the Welsh NHS was perfect — its problems are similar to England’s, both suffering from real-terms cuts. However, everyone resented Cameron’s highly selective facts and figures focusing on hospital waiting times not whole-person care. The latest Public Expenditure Statistical Analyses figuresfor 2013-14 show that combined spending on health and social care per head of population in Wales was 5% higher than in England, corresponding to £120 a head. Over the past five years Wales has seen a real-terms increase in social care spending, when the budgets in England have been cut by 26% according to Local Government Association of Directors of Adult Social Services. Thus delayed transfers of care in Wales are falling to record lows but in England are rising to record highs, with waiting times for diagnostic procedures and treatment also increasing. Yet Welsh Labour complacency could be fatal. In the 2014 European elections, Labour pipped Ukip by a miserly 0.5%, or fewer than 5,000 votes. The party’s overwhelmingly white, working-class base — like in Scotland and England — feels left behind in modern Britain. Labour strongholds in former coalmining valleys such as my Neath constituency have experienced huge change in the 25 years since I first stood. Too many former miners, car workers or steel workers now survive in an insecure, zerohours culture. Instead of the solidarity of trade unionorganised workplaces, they are on their own. Where they had modest opportunities — council houses, foreign holidays, a car — their kids compete on lengthening housing lists, their grandchildren saddled with student debts. The culture of mutual support and aid which has sustained Labour in its heartlands has been melting away. Membership of my local party has halved, yet it is four times the size of the Glasgow constituencies. And yet, where Scots Labour fights for its life against the SNP on May 7, Welsh Labour will almost certainly take seats from the Tories and Lib Dems, and maybe even from Plaid. Nye Bevan’s legacy clings on. Former Wales secretary Peter Hain is standing down as MP for Neath tipping is up and so is litter from fast food. So would we tolerate a bit more interventionism, if we won the prize of making the scruffy places richer, safer and pleasanter to live in? I believe we would. Some people will say that there is a kind of lowlife that dumps McDonald’s bags out of car windows. It’s cultural and you can’t catch them anyway. But culture is about choice. You can make drivers liable for litter and give the public a hotline to shop them on. Penalties need rethinking, too. The maximum fine for littering is £2,500 but litterbugs, when caught, are usually given a fixed-penalty notice of £80. That’s like a parking fine, but littering is a criminal offence. Why not put traffic wardens onto it? Councils might even make money from it. We should address other habits that make people less likely to take their litter home or put it in a bin. On trains, if somebody does not come by with a bag for our rubbish, we leave it where it lies. Our culture has decided to suppress litter, not to tackle it on principle. The coalition government has decided to stop funding Keep Britain Tidy, the only charity that deals with litter. The government now gathers worryingly little data on litter. This is a mistake. Doing something about litter strikes a chord: some 470 local groups took part in a community clear-up day last weekend. For as we are discovering, litter is a bigger problem than we thought. Plastic bottles and bags drift down to the sea and are ground down over decades into tiny fragments that pick up pollutants and are ingested by fish and plankton. Our irresponsibility comes back to haunt us. There isn’t even a government strategy for litter in England, although there is in Scotland. This need not mean spending money. It is about creating shared values through enlightened leadership, as Lee did. Don’t be beastly to aliens — they’re nature’s go-getters, News Review, page 9 charles.clover@sunday-times.co.uk