Friday Night Comedy from BBC Radio 4 - The Now Show - 27th November 2020

Episode Date: November 27, 2020

Steve Punt and Hugh Dennis get to grips (from a safe distance) with all things 2020 in the form of sketches and guest contributions.This week Catherine Bohart dons The Crown, Eshaan Akbar accepts responsibility and musical duo Harry and Chris take us to church...Additional voices from Emma Sidi and George FouracresWritten by the cast, with additional material from Jeffrey Aidoo, Laura Major, Georgie Flinn, Charlie George and Simon AlcockProduction Co-Ordinator: Caroline Barlow Engineer and Editor: David ThomasProducer: Adnan AhmedA BBC Studios Production

This is the BBC. This podcast is supported by advertising outside the UK. All day long. Taxes extra at participating Wendy's until May 5th. Terms and conditions apply. BBC Sounds. Music, radio, podcasts. Thank you for listening to the Friday Night Comedy Podcast. It's The Now Show. Hello, I'm Steve Punt. And I'm Hugh Dennis. With us are Catherine Bohart, Esha Nakbar, Harry and Chris,

George Fouracres and Emma Sidi. And this is... The Now Show! Hello, and everywhere you look at the moment, people are yearning for normality to return. We want a normal Christmas. We want our normal social lives back. Americans want a normal government. Rishi Sunak wants a normal GDP. Labour are having a normal simmering internal row.

And the residents of Kent are longing for normal length traffic queues. The key to normality, judging from the stock market, seems to be the arrival of an effective COVID vaccine. And now we have three to choose from with the announcement this week of the results from the oxford astrazeneca vaccine trial now following this stuff in detail is tricky because most of us don't know very much about immunology and medical research which is why i found myself reading the online science magazine nature.com where i found this the The Oxford AstraZeneca vaccine is made from a cold-causing adenovirus that was isolated from the stool of chimpanzees and modified. Now let's just repeat that. The vaccine was isolated from the stool of chimpanzees and again from the stool of chimpanzees. It's made of monkey poo. This is the aspect of the Oxford vaccine they kept quite quiet about. Professor, how does it work? Well, we invoke an immune response by replicating the spike protein

using genetic material obtained from chimpanzees. Obtained in what way? Didn't you ever wonder why we make them wear nappies? Two things about this. One, it's reassuring to know that no animal cruelty was involved, unless you count slipping a couple of Senecot tablets into the bananas. And two, it's amazing to think that for animal cruelty was involved, unless you count slipping a couple of Sennecott tablets into the bananas. And two, it's amazing to think that for all these years, families have been driving round Whipsnade Zoo and leaving with valuable scientific material

all over the roof. The public of course saw the figure of 70% and immediately rushed onto social media without bothering to read any of the detail about dosages or sample sizes. The fact is that the three vaccines announced so far work in very different ways. Two of them work by transcribing a segment of DNA into a piece of mRNA which then gets read by your cellular synthesizing tools. And the other one is made of monkey poo. Quite how you would discover that chimp faeces contains a suitable adenovirus, I have no idea. Presumably to get the chimps to throw everything at the wall and see what sticks.

It's the sheer speed of the research that's so impressive. At breakfast time on Monday, the Oxford vaccine was 70% effective, but by the lunchtime news, that had gone up to 90% in just a few hours, which may have resulted, of course, from a sudden panic that it would come across as some sort of budget version against the Pfizer and Moderna brands. This is not just a vaccine. This is a test tube-aged, antigen-encoding, phase 3 mRNA vaccine containing brandy-soaked fruit and sumptuous vanilla. Not from NHS. By contrast, the British product may have to do it like a slow-speed broadband supplier and, I don't know, offer a voucher or something.

If you chose Oxford AstraZeneca, we'll give you three for two at Nando's, a family pass at Cineworld and, to hedge our bets, free hospital parking. The Oxford vaccine. That'll do. My only problem with Oxford AstraZeneca is that whenever I hear someone say it, I always think it sounds like some exotically named contestant on University Challenge. Oxford AstraZeneca.

Is it from the stool of chimpanzees? Oh, come on, Oxford. What a ridiculous idea. Oh, no, you're right. Right, it's a number for ten. Which company allegedly harvested data for years in the referendum of 2016? Cambridge Analytica. Er, no, sorry, it's gone.

It turned out that AstraZeneca's 90% figure was down to a lucky accident where someone was given a half dose first and this produced a higher overall result. Yes, it was one of those cases where a total cock-up leads to a better outcome, a pattern that the government are pinning a lot of hope on at the moment. Many scientific discoveries have happened by accident, of course, from Alexander Fleming discovering penicillin when one of his petri dishes went mouldy, to Charles Goodyear discovering the condom when his balloon animal trick went embarrassingly wrong at a birthday party.

What matters is that we get there in the end. Now efficacy rates aren't everything, of course. Despite a 95% success rate for the Russian Sputnik vaccine, which was fully tested on a random sample of opponents and journalists, President Vladimir Putin has so far refused to take it. Yes, he rides wild horses across the tundra and wrestles with bears, yet he won't be vaccinated,

even though he was promised that afterwards he'd get a little sticker reading, I was brave at the doctors. I wonder what it is about Russian research programmes that he doesn't trust. Your vaccine is in this tube. Where is your syringe? We don't need your syringe. We just brush it on your doorknob. Putin has been ultra careful during the pandemic, though. If you want an appointment to see him, you have to wait for two weeks in isolation

and then walk through a special tunnel while being sprayed with disinfectant. It's worse than trying to get an appointment at the Apple shop repair counter. But whichever vaccine you're talking about, explaining the complexities of dosage and testing methodology to the media is a tricky task. And that explains the Oxford AstraZeneca vaccine. Any questions? So these spike proteins, would you say they look more like Sonic the Hedgehog or a sea urchin with attitude? Yeah, I wouldn't say either is an especially good analogy. When you say it doesn't need to be kept cold, can I leave it in a car on a hot day? I really don't think that I... Excuse me, please. Vaccine is safe?

Yes, it's very safe. Good. I would like it done somewhere public. Do not bring monkeys. In an attempt to enhance the illusion of normality, retailers are heavily pushing Black Friday, a British tradition dating back to about 2010, in which you get emails from everywhere you've ever bought anything encouraging you to buy another one but cheaper. Saving money is the key and everyone is joining in. And I do mean everyone. Save a fortune on public sector workers this Black Friday

with Rishi's Winter Bargains. Teachers, social workers and health and safety officers have all been held at 2019 prices. We've frozen the cost of hard-working librarians, indispensable firefighters and all crucial waste management employees. Buy an overworked classroom assistant now and pay no additional fees until 2021, if they're lucky. Plus thousands of civil servants must go. Each one comes with a non-disclosure guarantee and P45 personally signed by Priti Patel.

Plus, we've finally slashed the cost of foreign aid. Why hand out money to foreigners? We're saving billions here at Non-PC World. The Chancellor cannot be held responsible for high levels of disgruntlement. NHS staff are excluded, but pots and pans may be banged outside your house weekly in lieu of further payment. The very fact we can get excited about a day of forking out for another new and nutribullet we still won't use feels like some element of normality returning. It's not clear how fast the vaccines will be rolled out, but we do know one thing for certain.

Yes, on the day that the very last person is vaccinated, Matt Hancock will make an important announcement. I am proud to be able to say that our track and trace system is now fully up and running. Now, here to talk about the Netflix show that's making the royals sweat, not all of them, obviously, it's Catherine Bowhart. This week in the UK, there's only one thing anyone can talk about over their Zoom water coolers. That's right, it's the newest series of the royal biopic, Netflix's The Crown.

I've recently gone through a break-up, so needing a little bit of a distraction, I thought I'd finally watch it. I'd resisted for reasons that are obvious, like my Irishness and not enjoying propaganda, but I needed something happy to focus on. Well, big mistake, because it turns out this season is full of heartbreak. If I wanted to be depressed by a love story, I could have just put more furniture on Facebook Marketplace. By the way, being broken up with in 2020 is horrendous. Not even my nearest and dearest can pretend to care. And you know what? I get it. Being dumped in 2020 is like being a kid bragging about your birthday when it's near Christmas. Like, all right, we're all getting presents, and by by presents I do mean personal trauma. So given

the year that we're currently in, I get why Britain needs escapism in the form of ladies in big dresses. Now, I know what you're thinking. A foreigner talking about the royal family? How dare she? But hear me out. I'm not too dissimilar from the Windsors. Both of our families have historically revelled in shunning divorcees. Not that different from the Catholics after all, are you? And what better way to escape the current horrors of the coronavirus pandemic than by immersing ourselves in the cheer of 1980s Britain? A time when the American president asked people to tear down walls, not build them. When the Tory PM wouldn't be caught dead fraternising with a bus

and when minors dreamed of being ballet dancers rather than ballet dancers dreaming of working in cyber security. But the British have always used the royal family for a bit of escapism, haven't you? So much so that Prince William recently revealed he had COVID six months ago but didn't tell us, his beloved people, because he didn't want to upset us. Like that was going to be the thing that sent us over the edge this year. Sure, I've lost my job and I can't see my ageing grandmother but the Duke of Cambridge has a temperature! If the royals really don't want to upset us, maybe Andrew should stop cashing in

those Pizza Express vouchers. Or just stop in general. But as the crown moves into a decade that some people, not me I hasten to add, can actually remember, it becomes harder to use the programme to escape from the peasanty mundanity of our own day-to-day lives. In fact, some very astute viewers have gone as far as noticing that the events depicted may not be entirely historically accurate, and have gotten quite angry about it. Cue panicked articles from the British press saying things like, no, it turns out Thatcher never actually had those conversations with the Queen. Of course she didn't. That's not Thatcher. It's Gillian Anderson. Just enjoy her gorgeous, gorgeous face on that evil woman and relax.

In fact, thinking of the Queen having those one-on-ones with Gillian is pretty much the first time I've ever envied a royal. Because for all the bits of the crown that are, and sorry to keep hammering this home, obviously entirely made up for TV the bits of the crown that are, and sorry to keep hammering this home, obviously entirely made up for TV, there are other parts that are making the people of Britain wake up to how creepy some aspects of the monarchy are. No, not Prince Andrew. Nor do I mean the bit where you take an infant child, slap a crown on them, and then tell the world God has decided they will lead your great nation and open your leisure centres until they die. I'm talking of course about the marriage of Charles and Diana, because it turns out your nan's souvenir plates are all depicting the fairy tale love story between a couple with a 12 year age gap who had only met 13 times before they got engaged. The first of those times was when she was

not even old enough to learn to drive yet, and Charles later said he remembered her as a very jolly and attractive 16-year-old. Just a reminder, this is the non-creepy Windsor brother. I know everyone has had tough breakups and I'm not one to say my life is exactly like a royal's but I do know what it's like to break up with someone in the limelight because my ex and I had a BBC podcast which is surely second to royalty in the fame game. Get this, we had a podcast about love and relationships. Ah, the audacity. Good times. One season. Did actually make the breakup awkward though

because there were three days where I couldn't tell my friends because the BBC didn't know yet. The crown and my current situation has led me to think a lot about Diana's eternal position as the most iconic divorcee the world has ever seen. The blueprint, if you will, for how to navigate a breakup with dignity and grace. Turns out though, I don't know the dude who runs Harrods, so I've just had to spend too much money on ASOS and pretend the deliveries were sent by a beautiful heir.

Sometimes when I'm in Sainsbury's I'll shout wistfully, there have always been three people in this marriage. And then people stare and I pay for my ready meal for one. Churchill once said, history will be kind to me for I intend to write it. At least I think he said that. It might have been John Lithgow.

Incidentally, if you still have strong feelings on a made-up show about a made-up institution which presents a made-up facade based on made-up ideals ordained by a made-up god, you definitely shouldn't check out

The Two Popes on Netflix. Catherine Bohart there. You can see why people are desperate for normality to return. The country's entire economic future is hanging in the balance because British haddock won't stick to their bit of the sea, while in Wales, non-native creepy crawlies are apparently escaping from the I'm a Celebrity set with unknown consequences for native species. It's true, and Nigel Farage has already formed a new party. We will send back foreign insects in the fruit crates they arrive in. While Priti Patel has been spotted holding a kettle of boiling water

and shouting at anything with six or more legs. Tarantulas, cockroaches, fleas, just some of the things she denies throwing at her staff. As part of the general longing for normal life, it's been decided that for five days over the festive period, up to three households can meet up, which is brilliant news for roughly half of Boris's children. There is, however, an ongoing row over whether a voice assistant counts as the same household. Alexa, do you live in this house now? Yes, but until yesterday I lived at John Lewis. The five-day decision is controversial,

as no one's sure whether viruses take time off over Christmas or not. But allowing three households to mix does fit closely with seasonal tradition. And lo, a Covid marshal came under the stable saying... Right, who are all these people? And Mary replied saying... We've got some shepherds, some wise men and me and Joseph. Oh, and he's in our bubble. Now playing Once in Royal David's City from Spotify.

And so is she. There's certainly a determination to make Christmas feel as normal as possible. The festive TV schedules were announced this week, with the BBC confusing everyone by making a two-hour news round-up of 2020 and calling it not going out. But the five-day period doesn't cover New Year's Eve, prompting the government to come up with yet another three-part slogan. Stay at home. Protect the NHS. Watch the Hootenanny. And over on this side of the studio, we are delighted to welcome three different versions of the vaccines.

Social distancing is also proving no problem in the Labour Party, which apparently lost 10% of their membership between April and November. To put that in context, if they were a gym, they'd be thinking it was a pretty good result. Other signs of normality re-emerging include moves to allow fans back into sporting events. Currently, the plan is to allow 4,000 fans to watch a football match, but with no shouting or singing allowed, which will really not be the same. He goes down very easily, but the ref points to the spot. And there's the rustling of flags as 4,000 people spell out,

you don't know what you're doing in Samaphore. It's even worse for West Ham fans, who maybe find every time they sing... I'm forever in a bubble. Let's face it, 4,000 people in a 40,000-seat stadium is going to look weird, unless you're Donald Trump, in which case you're used to it. This week, Trump finally allowed the presidential transition to begin, possibly because he now has other plans. Yes, he's played so much golf in the last three weeks he's become convinced that he can win the

US Open by getting everyone else's score recounted. White House officials are adjusting to the change, with Biden not only receiving the daily security briefing, but choosing to receive it in writing, rather than in the form of a puppet show performed by the local Hooters, as has been preferred in recent years. The legal cases continue, although the grounds for them are getting thinner and thinner. Your Honour, we intend to prove how one voter in Iowa couldn't vote because the voter in the next booth stole their pen. Dismissed. Your Honour, the President intends to argue that his invisible friend voted,

but was told invisible votes don't count, and that's not fair. Dismissed with prejudice. It's all been downhill since his legal counsel, Rudy Giuliani, gave a press conference with hair dye streaming down his face in what's known as an election runoff. It was a weird incident, but it did explain why the President and his councillor seldom seen anywhere together. Yes, Giuliani can't go out when it's hot, and Trump can't go out when it's windy. One of the President's lawyers, Sidney Powell, this week became too much even for Trump.

She suggested, amongst other things, that Trump only lost because the software in US voting machines was designed on the orders of ex-president of Venezuela, Hugo Chavez, who died in 2013, three years before the election, Trump won using the same machines. And if that wasn't sufficiently weird, she also threatened the state of Georgia. I'm going to bring a biblical lawsuit. Interesting. What exactly is a biblical lawsuit? I had a crowd of 5,000. It was incredible. The largest crowd ever. And the catering company,

they delivered five loaves and two fishes. And I asked for salmon, but it wasn't salmon. I don't know what fish it was, but it was bad fish. It was deliberately kept from me by the ghost of the president of Venezuela. He also claimed that Lazarus had not only risen from the dead, but had then voted in three different states. Of the 30 or so lawsuits filed in a bid to contest the election result, many have apparently been littered with errors. In one, the words poll watcher, as in P-O-L-L, were misspelled as poll watcher, as in the type of poll you can slide up and down. Clearly, the lawyers' minds may not have been entirely on the case while drafting these suits. Y'all gonna have to buy

some more drinks if y'all want to do your security briefing in this here hooters. The new administration is promising to base its policy more on evidence and scientific facts. It was presumably in this spirit that Dr Anthony Fauci, lauded all year as the most truthful and trustworthy source of medical information on the pandemic, told America's children that Santa Claus is immune to coronavirus. Following Fauci's lead, other doctors went a bit over the top on this. The Dean of America's National School of Tropical Medicine, Dr Peter Hotez, said, I hear the ventilation in Santa's workshop is not the best

and opening windows in North Pole winters can be problematic. And he didn't stop there. Oh, no. The good news is that mass compliance there is pretty good and the elves are committed to social distancing. OK, you can stop now. Furthermore, Donald Trump actually won in a landslide. That's it. You've gone too far now. Thank you. Well, there was some news this week that some rather unexpected people have been breaking lockdown and meeting up in groups across the country. That's right. Renegade churchgoers. For more, here's Harry and Chris. There's a new craze everyone's talking about.

Invite strictly by word of mouth. Behind closed doors with the curtains down. The time for the underground church is now. This one goes out to the ravers, lockdown misbehaviors who see Christ as their saviour. Not so much drugs as tiny communion wafers. We are gathered here today trying to spread the word of Jesus it's that we don't want the police to find

out so this time just keep it between us so we'll offer each other a sign of peace but don't touch me you might have a disease when you come through the door may the Lord bless you but we'll kick you straight out if you sneeze it's an illegal lockdown rave It's an illegal, legal, legal, legal, legal lockdown rave.

It's an illegal, legal, legal, legal, legal lockdown rave. It's an illegal, legal, legal, legal, legal lockdown rave. So put your hands in the air like you just don't care as we praise the ancient of days. We're more popular than ever before. It's been great for reaching younger people. Who knew the quickest way to make church cool was for it to suddenly be illegal. We pray for all those who need support. We also pray that we don't get caught.

Speakers blast music up to the Lord in the form of Dave who can play three chords. Picture a faithless gig if they'd not lost their faith. An incorruptible corrupt FM. A pendulum if they'd swung towards grace. Like Prodigy if they'd not lost their faith An incorruptible corrupt FM A pendulum if they'd swung towards grace Like Prodigy if they sung gentle hymns I'm a choir master, gifted choir master It's an illegal, legal, legal, legal, legal lockdown rave Get on your knees and knees and knees and knees and knees and knees and pray

It's an illegal, legal, legal, legal, legal lockdown rave. Except it's a church service with a sermon determined for your soul to be saved. Now, if you don't like the next section of the show, there really is only one person to blame for it. Here to talk about taking responsibility for your actions, it's Ishan Akbar. I want to talk to you today about something that seems to be lacking in frontline politics, taking responsibility for your actions. Despite a cabinet office inquiry confirming that the Home Secretary Priti Patel repeatedly broke the ministerial code of conduct, particularly in the way she bullied other colleagues, she still remains in post.

Patel has admitted there are no excuses for her conduct and that I've clearly upset people, using the exact same words I used when I set a family heirloom tablecloth on fire at an ex-girlfriend's house in front of her parents when trying to do that thing where you run your fingers through a candle flame. I know, who has a tablecloth that's also a family heirloom? Alison Pearson in the Daily Telegraph leapt to Patel's defence by suggesting that it does beg a belief that a woman who is barely more than five foot tall managed to terrorise all those six foot three public school mandarins. Now Pearson has clearly never met a small Asian woman with an axe to grind before. My mum was five foot four, I'm six foot one and let me tell you when it

mattered she had a reach to the back of my ear that Anthony Joshua would be proud of., I'm 6 foot 1, and let me tell you, when it mattered, she had a reach to the back of my ear that Anthony Joshua would be proud of. Now, I'm not suggesting Patel hit people, but even when it comes to verbals, hell hath no fury like a small angry Asian woman. Once, in the heat of an argument, my mum yelled the following, if I killed you I'd go to jail, so I wish I could put you back inside and never have to see you again. My therapist says it might explain why I don't like sleeping with a duvet no matter how cold it gets. But crucially, when it comes to bullying or intimidating someone, size really doesn't matter, be it Stalin at 5'5", Napoleon at 5'6", or more modern intimidators like Lady Gaga at 5' tall.

As someone who has been bullied by someone physically smaller than him, other than his mum, let me tell you the three ways it's possible to bully someone bigger than you. Number one. In the same way an elephant is scared of a mouse, taller people are simply afraid of the sudden movements of the much smaller kind. Number two. Smaller people have access to parts of your body that are more sensitive to pain should they want to hit you. Beyond the obvious, have you ever been slapped on the inner thigh? It takes me a while to reach there to protect myself. Number three, it's also emotionally exhausting. I guess life is a bit harder when you have to take double the number of steps just to make up the same distance as a taller person. But even if it's not pretty to tell,

it seems that in politics, no matter how unacceptable the transgression, taking responsibility for your actions is the training session everyone missed. It's been around two months since the SNP's Margaret Ferrier suspected she had COVID, got a test, and then went to a gym, gift shop and beauty salon

before travelling to and from Scotland whilst awaiting her test results, which were positive, by the way. Presumably, she needed to look the part when handing over a fridge magnet to a friend. Despite being suspended by the party and Nicola Sturgeon calling on her to resign, she still hasn't. There seems to be a disparity between the repercussions for minor transgressions in offices up and down the land compared to what happens in frontline politics. Now, maybe I'm bitter because I once had to offer my resignation because I was caught wearing a mankini. Over my suit, by the way. The head of the private bank asked me to take it off and,

in my nervousness, it just bunched up between my legs like a luminous green tampon. Instead of accepting my resignation, he just made me redundant three months later and because his surname was Green, everyone said, you left with Green between your legs. Or is it because I had to offer my resignation after dating a colleague at work, breaking up with her, then dating her arch nemesis, only for her to find out, and then throw the kite runner, a book I bought her as a gift by the way, right at my face in front of my then boss in local government policy. No, he didn't accept my resignation. Instead, a few weeks later, I had a load of kites tied to my chair. The key point in both those stories is that I knew I had to own up

to my mistakes, apologise and recognise that my position in terms of garnering the respect of my peers may have become untenable. But maybe I'm being naive. Maybe this culture of not resigning is actually the way party leaders hold their ministers to account. Maybe political leaders know that making people work amongst those who have or are fast losing respect for you is the way to punish you. We see it all the time on shows like The Apprentice where the worst candidate sticks around just for entertainment value. To be fair, Priti Patel does remind me of someone who volunteers to be project manager, calls the team Endeavour and insists everyone address her by her nickname.

What have you done now, Pritster? Well, Boris, the Cabinet Office have said I've bullied most people in every department I've worked in, I got a £5,000-a-month advisory job without telling anyone, and I held meetings in Israel where I discussed official business without informing the Foreign Office. Priti, you are not fired. That was Eshan Akbar there, and you can catch up on Ishan's podcast, but where are you really from, on BBC Sounds.

Finally this week, George Clooney revealed that he once gave 14 of his closest friends a million dollars each in cash as a gift, which was embarrassing because they'd only got him an Amazon voucher. But we decided to ask our listeners what's the biggest mismatch of presents that you've ever experienced? So, here we go. I gave my sister a box of chocolates one Christmas. The next year, she gave

me the same box back. I gave her a diamond ring at Le Gavroche. She gave me a bath bomb. My sister-in-law sent my wife a list of Christmas presents for her family, which we duly bought, and in return we received a loofer. And Annabelle says,

last year I gave someone my heart, but they gave it away the very next day. That's tragic. Finally, this is my favourite. I gave my boyfriend tickets to Tokyo 2020. He gave me something completely useless. So that's not really a mismatch then. Thanks for me something completely useless. So, that's not really a mismatch then. Thanks for sharing

those awkward moments. There'll be another listener question up next week on Twitter at BBC Now Show. Thank you for listening and goodbye. Yes, it's goodbye from him and it's goodbye from my living room. Bye! Thank you for listening to The Now Show, starring Steve Punt, Hugh Dennis, Catherine Bohart, Ishan Akbar, George Fouracres and Emma Siddy. It was written by the cast with additional material from Georgie Flynn, Geoffrey Aidoo, Laura Major, Charlie George and Simon Alcock. Music was by Harry and Chris, the producer was Adnan Ahmed and it was a BBC Studios production. Oh, you have to say that's my division. There is no debate about that goal.