The Alan Clark Diaries

This programme hit the headlines because it seems to be the epitome of the British equivalent of "Must See TV", but is being shown first on th BBC's relatively new arts channel BBC Four, which cannot be seen in most homes. In addition, the star, John Hurt, kicked up a fuss about the smallness of the budget and the BBC's apparent terror of making a proper dramatisation which might not meet with the audience figures that they crave above all these days.

I think any programme getting the sort of coverage this got in order to promote the watching of BBC Four - the last bastion of serious public broadcasting - is only to be lauded.

The actual execution, however, is quite disappointing. Minimalist to the point of absurdity, we see Hurt as Clark in some kind of broom closet for an office, desultorily exchanging a few words with his secretary, while the voice over, reading straight from the diary, fills in all the actual plot detail. It sometimes feels like the entire programme is one long montage sequence with commentary, and this makes for very unsatisfying television. Characters other than Clark himself are characterised as barely more than extras, which since some of them were leading politicians and civil servants with their own public fame, leaves the viewer feeling distinctly short-changed.

When you read the diary you get a sense of Clark's free-spirited railing against the bureaucratic world of Whitehall, and his refusal to knuckle under to the system. Even knowing that the diary is one-sided, you grow to have a liking for Alan Clark and to sympathise with him a little. But exposed to the pitiless eye of the television camera, it is all revealed as being simply Clark's own incompetence and complete inability to do the relatively minor job in the government he is shown craving at the start. We aren't shown any reason that Clark didn't keep up with his briefs so we are left with mere laziness, and have no sympathy at all when he comes a-cropper in the House and in Committee. And again, in both the Committee scene and the notorious drunken appearance before the house, any true sense of the drama is sucked out by the montage style in which both these scenes are presented. Hurt does not even get the opportunity to act particularly drunk, as we cannot actually hear him speaking, masked as it is by the constant voice over.

Time was, the BBC would never even have considered doing such an adaptation using anything less than the full range of their production capabilities - in addition to John Hurt and Jenny Agutter, the cast would have been star-studded and every episode would have been 48 to 60 minutes long. They have done Clark, themselves and particularly BBC Four, no favours at all. But even in the absence of money, there are better ways to make this programme than the first episode evinced.

The Alan Clark Diaries are not currently online, I've just watched the series again on an ancient VHS tape. It covers the latter two of the three diaries, beginning when he enters government following the 1983 election. It seems unsure whether to aim for serious political autobiography or comedy. To some extent this reflects the man himself. He had a typical aristocratic insouciance, and some diary anecdotes are very funny. But he was mostly a serious politician and writer, seldom indulging in Boris Johnson style buffoonery.

At the time of writing the most highly rated episodes are the first two, which I liked least. These are the most comic, Clark is more or less lampooned as hapless and helpless, ever at the mercy of his scheming civil servants. I thought the best was the fourth, Defence of the Realm. Encompassing the poll tax riots, Geoffrey Howe's resignation, and the fall of Mrs Thatcher, it could hardly fail to reflect the drama of the times.

It's a shame one of the most amusing events in the middle diary (pp 308-9) wasn't brought to life, I suspect because it's piccolo (Clark's word for a small but telling triumph) rather than pratfall. His defence secretary boss Tom King was a middle of the road, do it by the book managerial type who could have been designed to be incompatible with Clark. At a reception following the Queen Mother's ninetieth birthday parade, King somewhat reluctantly introduces the QM to Alan and Jane. It's immediately apparent they have met at least once at Saltwood Castle, they natter away like old friends. Outclassed and out of the conversation, King desperately tries to move her on.

Unlike other reviewers, I don't feel John Hurt was all that great as Clark, though hardly his fault. The voice is good but he just looks too slight and agreeable, when a more imposing, somewhat menacing appearance was called for. David Warner would have been ideal, or Patrick Allen had he been younger.

Alan Clarke is the minister for Plymouth South, where he longs for a `proper' role as a Minister in Thatcher's government. When he gets the call he joins government but is totally unprepared for the commitment involved and is totally unable (and unwilling) to manage the rigours of bill reading and committees. Despite this he rises up the ranks, still proving his apparent penchant for controversy and evasion.

Having watched this series, my immediate hope is that BBC have the good grace and common sense to bring this from the poorly watched BBC4 onto BBC1 or 2 in a reasonably good evening slot - it deserves a proper audience exposure and could easily get it if one episode is watched. The series is adapted from Alan Clarke's own books and it isn't afraid to show his inner thoughts - most of the dialogue is delivered by Hurt in narration. The writing is great, full of acerbic humour and the sort of approach from Clarke that we have come to bitterly expect from our MP's. It is maybe exaggerated, and not all MP's are as self seeking and selfish as Clarke is here, but many of the things that Clarke does or mentions can still be seen in government today. When Clarke says how the bills are passed and drafted on personal issues rather than good policy, it isn't hard just to think back a few weeks when Labour won a very close vote on tuition fees by trading concessions on other bills to get enough rebels to change their vote.

The series is full of this and it is surprisingly funny throughout; the exaggerated Clarke is funny but it is his inner thoughts that are funny and interesting. We are all used to seeing politicians spinning and concealing things but it is not often that you get to hear what they are really thinking! Even on Question Time they will evade and give the `proper' answers as opposed to the answers you know they're thinking inside!

The script is what makes the series, but it is Hurt's wonderfully colourful performance as Clarke that makes it as interesting and witty as it is. His delivery is good and his facial expressions betray his inner loathing for the little people who he considers himself for far above. It may not be true of all politicians but it is wonderfully refreshing to see a MP depicted in this way simply because I don't believe that Clarke is alone in his thoughts.

Overall this is a great little series that does a great job of presenting the world of politics in a way that is bitter, cynical, funny and, sadly, quite recognisable and believable. Hopefully BBC4 can stop just thinking of ratings and allow a bigger audience to get access to this type of programme - we don't all have digital tv you know!

. . . almost. The BBC's new six-part serialisation fails to answer the basic question, Who is Alan Clark? We all know his public persona, the flamboyant, outspoken, womanising Conservative MP - but that's all we get here. The series starts with his election victory in 1983, but it's not made clear whether this is a re-election or his first time in Government. His past remains a mystery, with no clue as to how he's gotten where he is apart from a few reminiscences of sexual conquests past.

John Hurt did criticise the speed of filming and the budget, and it's easy to see why. Every set is claustrophobic and bare, Clark seems to inhabit his own little world in which people come and go without really making much impression. Is this meant to give us some idea of his mental state, or is it just filming on the cheap? There's certainly very little period detail beyond his secretary's clothes and hair.

Ultimately it comes down to casting. John Hurt is perfect as Clark (as is Jenny Agutter as his wife Jane), but if it were all down to nothing but imitation then Alan Clark might as well have been immortalised in a one-man show, something along the lines of Alan Bennett's Talking Heads.

Alan Clark is a junior minister in the Thatcher government: irreverent, accident-prone and indiscreet. He wants to move up the slippery pole but lacks the necessary energy or cunning or self-belief. Only when the administration enters terminal decline can he rise to a higher station as others slip rapidly down the pole. Bureaucrats consider him a fool; he alternately lusts after (the females) and loathes them. John Hurt gets this character very well and Jenny Agutter plays his long-suffering wife with a nice mixture of brave grins and maternal snarls. What's missing is a dramatic context for Clark's monologues/thought bubbles. The viewer is rushed through a series of political accidents and incidents in which it is often hard to know or remember who is who and what is what. Too often, we are expected to be satisfied with the Clark witticisms without being given a proper understanding of what it is he's being witty about. The flatness to the look of the series and the metronomic directorial pacing prevent us from fully engaging with the larger story of a government willing to accommodate someone like Alan Clark.