I am sure non-journalists must have taken the satirical TV show Drop The Dead Donkey with a huge pinch of salt when it first aired 34 years ago.
Surely, no newsroom could be so dysfunctional and staffed with so many incompetent misfits?
Perhaps it’s just me, but I seem to have worked with the lot!
That’s why it was such a joy to watch Drop The Dead Donkey The Reawakening! live at Canterbury’s Marlowe Theatre on Tuesday (June 11).
It was the first night of its run in the Kent city and it came with a wonderful opportunity to quiz the cast, and the writers Andy Hamilton and Guy Jenkin, afterwards hosted by the theatre’s chief executive Deborah Shaw (more of that later).
I should say here that, although I have worked with some “characters” and witnessed marathon meltdowns as deadlines approached, I wouldn’t have missed a second of it for the world.
There is, admittedly, something strange about a person who forsakes a “proper job” to turn writing about what other people do into a career. That’s why there are so many oddballs in the profession.
You would think because of that, there would be a glut of brilliant books, shows and films about journalists. Alas, that is not the case – which makes Drop The Dead Donkey (DTDD) all the more amazing.
Somehow the writers managed, and still manage three decades later, to capture the maverick nature of newsrooms and why the cast must be congratulated for bottling the essence of insanity so perfectly.
So, to the show. How could it be revived and yet remain topical?
The writers have set it in the studios of fledgling television channel Truth News. It no longer has real life cameramen or women but robot cameras (just like modern news programmes) attached to the “fourth” wall (separating the stage from the audience).
“On the other side of that,” promised former Globe Link News boss Gus (Robert Duncan) “there is a world of young viewers…”
The entire cast craned their necks, scrutinizing the blackness of the auditorium and looked bewildered.
There were titters in the darkness. We all realised at that moment that 30-odd years later, we have all aged.
The cast were introduced one at a time, often with a round of applause. The first to set foot on stage was hapless editor George (Jeff Rawle) whose initial battle was with an irascible tea and coffee-making machine.
Slowly he was joined by his original team, all slightly older but delighted to have been offered a chance to return to the job they love – and the promise of a hugely inflated wage packet at the end of the month.
Dave (Neil Pearson) appeared to have been cured of his gambling and womanising ways; assistant editor Helen (Ingrid Lacey) was back for the lucrative salary to clear huge debts; psychopathically misanthropic Joy (Susannah Doyle) is now a fearsome freelance HR consultant and news anchor Sally Smedley (Victoria Wicks) remains convinced she is the best presenter in the world (even after a flutter presenting an infamous TV series guessing people’s underwear and calling the Chinese president Xi Jinping “President 11”).
Intrepid truth-challenged reporter Damien (Stephen Tompkinson) is now in a wheelchair following an unfortunate incident on location.
Viewers may recall he often had a children’s teddy called Dimples and a blood-stained shoe tucked in his rucksack to add to the drama of his reports from war and disaster zones.
Alas, the ensemble cast no longer includes the late David Swift (who played news anchor Henry Davenport) or Haydn Gwynne (deputy editor Alex Pates).
But there are two new characters: Julia Hills as Pullitzer Prize-winning journalist Mairead and Kerena Jagpal as Rita, a 19-year-old unpaid intern hired to present the weather.
Running any media organisation on a shoestring is prone to teething troubles and Truth News is no exception, although how it managed to zap veteran newsreader Trevor McDonald was hilarious.
Once again, the writers have packed the script with witty one-liners and topical gags which had me rolling in the aisles (or would have, if the Marlowe had any).
It is a slick production, as it should be, having been on the road for the best part of six months.
But it’s not just played for laughs. There are some surprisingly moving interludes including an especially a powerful speech delivered by Tompkinson towards the end which serves as both a kind of redemption for Damien and a rallying cry to protect proper journalism.
It was a lovely nostalgic treat which also had some pertinent things to say about today’s politics and media landscape, where truth can sadly be a casualty.
I so wish it was back on the telly.
Full marks, too, to designer Peter McKintosh’s open plan set with huge video screen (Dan Light) and Peter Mumford’s excellent use of subtle lighting. No one ever mentions the sound but none of the hidden mics failed and the sound effects were all on cue, thanks to Ella Wahlstrom and Kirsty Robson.
What? The question and answer session? This was such a surprise.
I had no idea there was going to be one until an email from the theatre the day before adding “No need to book, simply stay in your seats after the show”.
I had to ask: “Why did you call it Drop the Dead Donkey?”
I’ve been doing this work for 50-odd years and have never, ever heard the expression other than the TV show.
Andy Hamilton, a regular guest on Have I Got News For You and who also wrote Outnumbered with Guy Jenkin, explained that they originally wanted to call it Dead Belgians Don’t Count.
“It was only when Channel 4 suggested, not unreasonably, that it might adversely affect sales to Belgium that we agreed to look for an alternative,” he said.
It was while the pair were spending a day in a BBC news room that they came up with the new title.
“There was breaking news about a soldier’s death in Northern Ireland. The harassed news editor, a bit like George, was trying to decide whether to run it and was juggling the running order,” recalled Andy.
“We took that on board and then added a bit of alliteration, so Drop The Dead Donkey was born.”
So, that’s why I’d never heard of it before!
- Drop the Dead Donkey, Marlowe, Canterbury (to Saturday)
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