To the delight of some and the fury of others, the Thought for the Day slot on the Today programme was handed over to Pope Benedict XVI for his Christmas message. It was a fairly predictable sermon and could have been delivered by a local parish priest. On that level, many listeners would have enjoyed great comfort from the simple, heartfelt words.
The critics seemed to be more concerned with what he did not say about Roman Catholic scandals and the darker, more shameful episodes that have emerged in recent years. But how can anyone say all there is to say on everything in a matter of a few radio minutes?
Pope Benedict reminisced briefly about his recent visit to Britain before reminding us of his belief in the goodness of God, always faithful to His promises, but often surprising in how those promises are fulfilled. He highlighted the weaknesses of the human condition, our fragility and our vulnerability, urging us to have faith that belief in God offers us the freedom from whatever weighs us down. “He gives us hope, He brings us life.”
Thought for the Day is meant to make us think, not to force us to agree with the speaker. The Pope’s message was more akin to a spiritual prayer than a political or social statement. It was bland and safe in content, but it was a bold move to sign him up for the broadcast. The BBC was well aware of the fallout of diverse opinions that would pepper the media and probably enjoyed a satisfying ratings boost for this brief (and not as inconsequential as you might think) radio slot. I wonder who the controversial guest thinker will be next year.
As I listened to Peter O’Toole in conversation with Richard Ingrams on Today, I reckoned that the rascally old thespian would be ideal, full of bawdy anecdotes and worldly wisdom, telling us home-truths in his own plummy, luvvy, irreverent kind of way.
Ingrams was guest editor one morning and he had the inspired idea to invite the actor to The Coach and Horses pub in Soho for lunch. O’Toole was on good form, telling well-worn stories of his time with Omar Sharif on Lawrence of Arabia. Unknown to director David Lean, they would drink brandy and milk cocktails to steady the nerves before shooting camel riding scenes. In gossipy asides, he revealed that Richard Burton was convinced he was boring without a drink or two and that “low life” writer and imbiber Jeffrey Bernard hated drunks.
O’Toole quit the theatre in 1999 after 46 years on and off, to concentrate on films. When Ingrams asked him if he had any advice for the listeners, O’Toole burst into song with “Keep Smiling Through” – advice that he hsa clearly he has followed all his life from his Irish beginnings, not unlike singer Val Doonican.
The latter’s life and career featured in Val Doonican: Rocking…But Gently, a fitting homage to a very successful entertainer. In the 1970s and ’80s, Doonican was “Mr Saturday Night”, walking tall on BBC television pulling in 20 million viewers most weeks with his charm, consummate skills as a singer, musician and storyteller, and for his impressive guest stars.
He mixed crooning with comedy songs such as “Paddy McGinty’s Goat” and “Delaney’s Donkey” in a seemingly effortless way. He described it as simply sitting and singing songs, totally relaxed to viewers who felt very comfortable watching a clean-cut variety show. Nowadays, it is difficult to imagine a genial host fronting a prime time weekend television entertainment show – and more’s the pity.
