Readers with a weak stomach might want to avert their eyes on this one. The following quotes are taken from Steven Berkoff’s article in the most recent Spectator. It’s headlined “I was starstruck by David Cameron”. And then it goes even further downhill:
Who do I see striding the room while the crowd melts before him*. Ah, this is an eight-point stag and really, I just want to meet him, since I have admired him greatly since he made one of the most outstanding speeches to the nation that I have ever heard from the mouth of a politician.
He seems to float through the room surrounded by a small gaggle of satellites that are eagerly feeding on the little verbal titbits he throws out. He looks a model of composure, cool, elegant and relaxed and is accompanied by his lovely wife, no doubt freshly exhilerated after his weekly thrashing of Gordon Brown’s ample backside.
I must complete my evening by speaking to him… I’d like merely to congratulate him on that speech since it was a veritable sermon on the mount and imbued with a certain ‘messianic’ fervour.
I stride boldly across the room, placing my carcass almost in his line of vision. I introduce myself – ‘I am Steven B…’, but he cuts me off and gallantly fibs, ‘Of course I know who you are.’ Oh, how charming he is… I then deliver my oratorio briefly summing up my admiration for that now famous speech and how as an actor I could admire it all the more for the delivery…
Pride now puffed itself into my cheeks. Mr Cameron even had the manners to enquire what I was up to. Fortunately this time I had something to say. ‘I have just directed the stage version of the famous movie On the Waterfront. ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘I remember it well… and how good James Dean was.’ Of course I couldn’t correct his little error since Brando and Dean were buds of the same tree so to speak…
I felt as if champagne was fizzing through my veins as I strode back eager to see the look of beaming admiration in the eyes of my new young friend…
To be continued in Private Eye‘s OBN column, no doubt.
So what have we learned from this? Well, first of all, Dave has seen Octopussy.
Second, Dave can’t tell the difference between Marlon Brando and James Dean, even in reference to a movie that he claims to “remember well”. If GB had made the same mistake, The Spectator would have run a piece about how out of touch he is with modern culture.
Third, I have a feeling Steven Berkoff isn’t a Labour supporter.
* Honestly, I’m not making this up.