Lies, radio news, and a pub lunch | part 4 of 5

So far in this series of articles we’ve met a TV researcher who’s arrogant and self-obsessed, there’s the tabloid hack who fancies himself as a champagne-swilling lothario, and the network radio news journalist who is a compulsive liar – at work, at home and to his friends. It’s all rather ugly. You can read previous episodes by searching through the archives tab on this page.

These characters combine to make a depressing picture of metropolitan media life, all captured in Ian McEwan’s film The Ploughman’s Lunch.

The story is set in 1982 and includes scenes filmed at that year’s Conservative Party conference in the aftermath of the Falklands/Malvinas War.

The director, Richard Eyre, together with a camera crew and leading cast members, managed to get media passes to the conference and were able to capture semi-improvised scenes in and around the conference hall during debates and speeches.

My conclusion is this story paints a picture of the state of Britain four decades ago that’s eerily relevant today. That’s to come in part five, the final essay in this series.

But before we get there, let me mention some other critical approaches to this movie. And let me warn you that later in this piece we’ll meet the French public intellectual with quite a bit to say about fibbing. More mentir than blaguer.

Firstly, Sheila Johnston (1985) describes Penfield (played by Jonathan Pryce) as “a man without qualities”. For her, the film lacks a moral perspective, in that there are no characters with which the audience can easily identify (pp. 105-8).

Brian McFarlane (2009) agrees, calling this an overtly political film, and like Johnston dubs it a “state-of-the-nation piece” (p. 368)

Michael Walsh (1995) has this movie as both a symbol of an imagined past and a real product of modern metropolitan life – in all its present anxiety (pp. 169-70). The ploughman’s lunch of the title – a post-modern artifice served up to pub diners – is an allegory for “popular memory and the writing of history”. Walsh is referring to Penfield’s rewriting of Suez, and how the character uses, “dishonest manoeuvring in pursuit of a desired object” (p. 177).

Sarah Street (2009) puts it more bluntly. For her, it’s a film which raises the issue of “the falsification of the past through established historical discourse” (p. 119).

Michael Walsh concludes that even though The Ploughman’s Lunch is “a depressing film” it “never endorses the attitudes of its protagonist who, rather, represents a bankrupt consensus” (p. 182). That’s the stark reality and, I reckon, McEwan’s overall message.

Jonathan Bolton (2022) identifies the film as coming at “a turning point in [McEwan’s] level of political activism” (p.27). Again, for Bolton as well, it’s a “state-of-England” drama. The film frames the writer’s view of Britain as being a place “of lying and deception” (p.28).

He also expresses two concerns. Firstly, over “the quality of a culture that permits and perhaps even encourages mendacity” (p. 29) on both a personal and a national level (p.33) as portrayed through the scenes at the Conservative Party Conference.

And – secondly – on an historical level when we hear of how Penfield wants to rewrite the account of the Suez Crisis of 1956 (pp.37-38). The BBC hack’s aim is to attempt somehow to give it a triumphalist gloss that never existed.

Bolton points out that McEwan breaks with narrative tradition and makes “all of the central protagonists dislikeable” (p.30) – including Penfield and Hancock (played by Tim Curry) – who both use lying and deceit to win the attentions of Suzy Barrington (Charlie Dore) (p.31).

For more analysis of film and TV shows that feature radio – like The Ploughman’s Lunch – read my book:

https://www.bloomsbury.com/uk/radios-legacy-in-popular-culture-9781501388231/

You can also get a preview – before you buy – about my methods. This link takes you to Chapter One – which is available to look at for free online:

https://bloomsburycp3.codemantra.com/viewer/61c091c75f150300016f10af

Sign up to receive my monthly articles about film, literature, radio and journalism.

By the way, while we’re talking about lies. Watch this. It features, as promised, one of my favourite French intellectuals:

References

  • Bolton, Jonathan (2022), “Mendacity, Rule Consequentialist Ethics and The Ploughman’s Lunch”, Film-Philosophy, 26.1 pp. 26-43
  • Johnston, Sheila (1985), “Charioteers and ploughmen”, in Martyn Auty & Nick Roddick (eds.), British Cinema Now, London: BFI Publishing, pp. 99-110
  • McEwan Ian (2004), “Screenplays, The Ploughman’s Lunch”, https://www.ianmcewan.com/books/screenplays.html last accessed 26/05/2024
  • McEwan, Ian (1985), “The Ploughman’s Lunch, Post-Production Draft”, https://www.dailyscript.com/scripts/ploughmans_lunch.html Accessed: 26/05/2024
  • McFarlane, Brian (2009), “The More Things Change… British Cinema in the 90s”, in Robert Murphy (ed.) The British Cinema Book, 3rd. edn, London BFI/Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 366-374)
  • Ross, Michael L (2008), “On a Darkling Planet: Ian McEwan’s Saturday and the Condition of England”, Twentieth-Century Literature, 54:1, pp. 75-96
  • Shafer, Stephen C. (2001), “An Overview of the Working Classes in British Feature Film from the 1960s to the 1980s: From Class Consciousness to Marginalization”, International Labor and Working-Class History, No. 59, pp. 3-14
  • Street, Sarah (2009), British National Cinema, 2nd edn, London: Routledge, p. 119
  • Walsh, Michael (1995), “Reality, the Real, and the Margaret-Thatcher-Signifier in Two British Films of the 1980s”, American Imago, Vol. 52, No. 2, pp. 169-189

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