The Unbelievable Truth - Special: Christmas trees, Charles Dickens, Turkeys, Father Christmas

Episode Date: October 8, 2021

Special 15 December 2008 Graeme Garden, Jack Dee, Sean Lock, Armando Iannucci Christmas trees, Charles Dickens, Turkeys, Father Christmas

We present the unbelievable truth, the panel game built on truth and lies. In the chair, please welcome David Mitchell. Hello. the chair, please welcome David Mitchell. Hello and welcome to The Unbelievable Truth. You join us for our special Christmas-themed programme based around believable lies and implausible facts. For example, in Western Europe, Christmas is the 25th of December, but in Armenia, it's celebrated on January the 6th. In the Russian Orthodox Church, it's January the 7th, while in Tesco Church, it's January the 7th. While in Tesco's, it runs from the first week of September through to mid-February.

Or as they call it, Easter. Please welcome our four guests who are going to mix winterful fiction with yuletide fact. They are Jack D, Sean Locke, Armando Iannucci, and Graham Garden. Each of the panel will present a short lecture on a given subject that should be entirely made up, save for five pieces of true information, which the panellists should attempt to smuggle past his opponents. Points are scored by truths which go unnoticed, while other panellists can win points if they spot a truth

or lose points if they mistake a truth for a lie. Let's kick off with Graham Garden. Graham, your subject is the Christmas tree, an evergreen coniferous tree that is usually brought into the home at Christmas and decorated. Fingers on buzzers, everyone else. Off you go, Graham. In some parts of the world, especially where people can't afford Christmas tree decorations, the trees are garlanded for good luck with whatever is available. In Papua New Guinea, they use banana skins. In the Ukraine, they hang cobwebs on the tree.

And in Wolverhampton, old bus tickets. Sure. Is the banana skins true? Please. Take your time. I'm enjoying this little brief window where it might be true. We're at the moment living in a world where it might be true that they use banana skins and they hang on the trees, rotting, going black, over the days and weeks of Christmas. And I didn't think it through, because it'd be hot as well. They'd go off quite quickly, wouldn't they?

Stinking their place out. Yeah. Like a fridge gone bad. They could dip them in something, a local guava-based sort of lacquer. They could dip them in that. They could. Protect them right up till probably St. Lamastide.

Just simply get yourself a tin of banana anti-rot. It's available everywhere. The sales of banana anti-rot in this world would be very high in Papua New Guinea around Christmas. But, no, it's not true. Oh, you tell me.

Either of us can tell you. Oh, I see. I know and he knows. I think we all knew, in fairness. Yeah, I believe, yeah. No, anyway, sadly, no, they didn't. One Christmas, Queen Victoria unexpectedly discovered Prince Albert polishing his collection of large silver rings and chains and clamps and other dangly baubles.

He explained they were simply Christmas decorations and quickly hung them on the tree. And that is how the practice of decorating Christmas trees was started. Oxford Street Christmas lights were originally candles on huge Christmas trees outside the front of every building along the street. Armando. Can I suggest that might be true? No, I will say that's true, that's true.

And I'm not prepared to argue about it. Unfortunately, no, it's not true. I mean, if you're really not prepared to argue about it, then in a sense, you're no longer taking part in the game, so much as you're just asserting untruths publicly. Well, it's actually called a fight. Essentially, you're reduced to the level of a homeopathist, essentially, asserting the demonstrably untrue in public.

It doesn't matter what's true, does it? I say that that's not true because of evidence. You say it is true because of a sort of insane need to win a panel game. And you believe that two men can't live together happily in a relationship. That's not what homeopathy is. I think we work that beautifully together, David. I knew a homeopathist once, actually, who tried to kill himself by taking an underdose.

once, actually, who tried to kill himself by taking an underdose. In Germany, the festive fur has a military connection. In fact, the word spruce derives from an old word for Prussia, because the Prussian army helmets originally had a spike in the shape of a Christmas tree.

I'm saying that's true because it sounds true. Well, part of it is true, so I think I'm going to give you the point. What's true is that the word spruce derives from the old word for Prussia, but not that Prussian army helmets originally were supposed to have a... No, I didn't think that bit. It would be an oddly festive design for what is essentially war dress. Now, the old word for Prussia was prus, and spruce commonly meant bought or obtained from Prussia.

There was spruce fir, spruce leather, and spruce beer. And spruce willows. Graham, carry on. There are literally millions of bugs and insects that you may unknowingly bring into your home on your Christmas tree. These include the tsetse fly, the pubic louse, the turnip moth and the needle weevil. The original artificial Christmas trees,

which were developed in the 18th-century French court, were made from goose feathers dyed green and stuck on wires. Orlando. Can I say I think the goose feathers is true? Yes, that's absolutely true. It would inspire a group eater. Nothing to do with the 18th century French court. Artificial trees were made from goose feathers dyed green.

I can't imagine anything looking more like a tree than a green bird. And stuck on wires, and they originated in Germany in about 1845. As if Christmas wasn't bad enough luck for geese already. I suppose it's using all parts of the goose, isn't it? I suppose it is. We'll eat the middle and make a tree out of the outside. Then you could hang the giblets for decorations, couldn't you? Like in Happy New Guinea.

Thank you, Graham. The end. The end. So, Graham, at the end of that round, you've managed to smuggle two truths past the rest of the panel, and they are that in the Ukraine, they do hang cobwebs on the tree. So close, wasn't I? Yeah.

Sort of. Close in terms of it was in the same sentence. And the other truth is that an insect you might unknowingly bring into your home on your Christmas tree is the turnip moth, which is a terrible parasite on conifers. A serious point there. And so that means, Graham, you scored two points. Christmas trees were first popularised in Britain by Prince Albert,

who brought Queen Victoria an eight-foot spruce from Germany for Christmas in 1841. In return, Victoria gave Albert something to help keep him warm while out hunting. East Africa. OK, we turn now to Jack D. In 2001, Jack D was asked to take part in the first Celebrity Big Brother. Initially reluctant, Jack did eventually agree to appear,

albeit with a big butt, which was amply provided by Vanessa Feltz. Your subject, Jack, is Charles Dickens, one of the most popular English novelists of the 19th century, whose short novel A Christmas Carol has prompted people the world over to associate Christmas with Victorian England. Fingers on buzzers, everyone else. Off you go, Jack.

Like all writers and people like that, Dickens was an asthmatic and was in the habit of treating his symptoms with generous doses of opium. Sean, was he asthmatic? He was asthmatic and he was also in the habit of treating his symptoms with opium. Jack. Charles Dickens belonged to an asthmatic sports club, which he joined for a wheeze. Early in his marriage, Dickens made a bet with his wife, whom he lovingly referred to as Pig, that he would name at least... John.

I think he did call his wife Pig. You think again, do you? Yeah. Well, so far far it's doing me pretty good Do you think that Or do you think you knew that No I think that I think he called his wife Oh no that was John Peel called his wife the pig wasn't it

No it was actually Charles Dickens It was Charles Dickens So Dickens. It was Charles Dickens. Dan. Yeah, so Dickens made a promise to his wife, Pig, that he would name at least one unusual animal in each of his novels, hence the passage in Bleak House that describes a zebra and the mention of a kangaroo in David Copperfield. Dickens had a pet raven called Grip.

Graham. kangaroo in David Copperfield. Dickens had a pet raven called Grip. Graham? I think he did have a pet raven called Grip. Yes, he did have it without the question mark. I think it was an exclamation mark. He was called Grip. Not Grip. That would be actually, you could destroy a child psychologically by putting

a question mark at the end of his name. Yeah, but I mean, a raven, you might come across a crowd of ravens and you just go up to each one and say grip and when it nodded you'd know that you'd found yours yeah take it home but in that case the interrogative inflection is because you're asking the raven a question yes not because it's actually part of its name and it would be you'd have to put double interrogative inflection to do that to a raven whose actual name, when said without any inflection, is Grip. You'd have to go, Grip?

Grip? He did have a raven called Grip, and he loved it so much that when it died, he had it mounted. He had it mounted. And it's currently to be seen in the third-floor rare-books department of Philadelphia's Free Library. So that's an interesting day out for people. Grip had followed Dickens back from the Tower of London,

where he had gone to visit his friend Barnaby Rudge, a beefeater who, of course, was later to be featured in his novel, Martin Chuzzlewood. Rudge was to successfully sue Dickens for getting his name wrong and, with the proceeds, started a chain of deeply unpleasant restaurants, which he named Beef Eater Inns. Now desperately poor...

Armando. It is true that Beef E tureens are deeply unpleasant. I don't think I can give you a point merely for pointing out that there is a chain of restaurants called beefy tureens, which, in my opinion... Bear in mind, they are sponsoring tonight's programme. ..are the finest culinary establishments that humanity has ever contrived of.

Thank you, David. So, now desperately poor, Charles Dickens moved to Scotland to be with other poor people. There he hit upon the idea of confusing everybody by calling his next book A Christmas Carol. This featured a lazy hypochondriac called Tiny Tim. Interestingly... LAUGHTER

Interestingly, if this kind of thing interests you, Dickens arrived at the name Tiny Tim after first considering Little Larry, Puny Pete and Small Sam. So on. I might as well. One of those is true. Does it matter which? Puny Pete, Tiny...

I've got the call now. Tiny Larry. Little Larry, Puny Pete and Small Sam. And Mick the Midget. Actually, he considered all three. That's all true, that he considered Little Larry, puny Pete and small Sam. I think we can see the way the great man was thinking. Thank you very much, Jack.

So, at the end of that, Jack, you managed to smuggle only one truth past the rest of the panel, which is that Dickens' novel David Copperfield includes a reference to a kangaroo. It's the only one of his novels to do so. So, Jack, that means you've scored one point. Charles Dickens' works were banned during the Chinese

Cultural Revolution. Not only were they considered by the Chinese to be the bourgeois ramblings of a decadent lackey, but they also caused 600 million of them to suffer seizures trying to say Oliver Twist. Right. Right, it's now the turn of Sean Locke. Sean's handled by the same management agency

who put Jonathan Ross where he is today, watching a lot of daytime TV. Your subject, Sean, is the turkey, a large poultry bird, which is traditionally eaten as the main course at Christmas in much of the world or at Thanksgiving in the United States and Canada. Fingers on buzzers, the rest of you. Off you go, Sean. Christmas is coming. The goose is getting fat.

Graham. True. Yes, there's no doubt that Christmas is coming and the goose is getting fat. In fact, yeah, that is point. Sean. Yeah. Yes, there's no doubt that Christmas is coming and the goose is getting fat. In fact, all... Yeah, yeah, that is point, I think. Sean, you haven't by mistake just done all true things about turkeys, have you? No, but I've used some words that are true in sequence. I knew they shouldn't have had you on the show. I was trying to put a bit of a theme.

I was trying to put a festive tone to the piece. Goose is getting fat, and then there's something about an old man and a hat, but that's not my point. Goose is too fat, so it had no chance when the lean but plump turkey appeared on the outside lane of the Christmas dinner race. Because it is a race.

Those jokes about turkeys not looking forward to Christmas are ignorant of the fact that turkeys have no fear. They are the Steven Seagal of the poultry world. Not because they are trained in Kung Fu. No. Because a small part of their brain is missing.

King Charles I's favourite dwarf was encouraged to fight several bouts with a turkey. One of those traditions I feel we let go too easily. Amanda. I'd like to think that's true. Well, it is. Yes! Oh, man. Well, it is.

Yes! Oh, man. OK. Israel eats more turkey per head than any other country on Earth. Fact. Jack. I was alerted to the way Sean flagged up that. It's true that they eat more turkey per head in Israel than any other country on earth.

So, yes, well done, that's true. Carry on. But in Turkey, they don't like turkey. It's called the American bird. And the people of Turkey resent their association with the American bird. And the people of Turkey resent their association with this ridiculous bird. And the turkey was never more ridiculous than walking to London from Norfolk in leather boots. Walking to London in leather boots. I think they did. Yes, absolutely right, they did.

Pigs wore knitted boots with leather soles. The longest turkey drove ever took place in 1810 when a french turkey farmer wanted to prove to napoleon that the birds could march proudly alongside his army they marched 600 miles from northern france to the alps imagine after a hard day's march trying to sleep over the constant clucking and squawking of your new recruits you expected a gobbling joke there, but only the male gobbles, and they weren't used for this purpose. Armando.

Well, it's true, I was expecting a goblin joke, and I think it's true that only the male gobbles. It is absolutely true that only the male gobbles. Yeah. The female turkey make gentle clucking and clicking sounds. Sounds so dismissive. It sounds sweet, clucking and clicking sounds. Sounds so dismissive. Sounds sweet. Clucking and clicking.

I don't think turkeys are sweet. I think they're ludicrous creatures. And I think one of the few things to recommend them is that they make an odd gobbling noise. And the turkeys that don't even do that, well, they're beneath contempt. And therefore must die. Well, I mean, they're only going to die.

They're only brought into existence to die, weren't they? Delicious. Happy Christmas. According to research scientists at the University of Minnesota, 60% of people who prefer the lean white breast meat as opposed to the darker meat are more likely to stay in a stable relationship. Although, in my humble opinion,

the best part is the dripping on toast on Boxing Day morning. Jack, that must be true, because you've just said, in your humble opinion... LAUGHTER But at this point, I can't say whether that is genuinely Sean's humble opinion. Only he can. Sean, is that genuinely your humble opinion?

No, I don't like it. Right. In that case, I'm going to come round to your house on Christmas Day and make sure you don't eat any dripping. No, it's actually, I'm lying, it's true. I love turkey dripping. I don't know what that means now. I mean, where does that put me? Well, the problem I have is I absolutely love turkey dripping. I don't know what that means now. I mean, where does that put me?

Well, the problem I have is I absolutely love turkey dripping. If I was on death row, my last meal would be turkey dripping. That can be arranged. You are absolutely in the perfect position to deny Jack a point there. I know, but I like turkey dripping so much, I couldn't lie about it. I couldn't deny it. That's actually incredibly moving. Yes, it is, isn't it?

When it came to it, your love of turkey dripping mattered more than this show. Yes. I'm not going to go on the radio and deny my love for turkey dripping. What have I become then? It's fantastic. It's like the caviar of the turkey.

It's like the purest essence of flavour and taste you can ever experience in your life. Well, I think it has been established beyond doubt that you do like turkey dripping. Yes. And therefore, I have to give Jack a point. Yes. Thank you very much, Sean.

And you only managed to smuggle one truth past the rest of the panel, Sean, which was that in Turkey, the turkey is called the American bird, which means, Sean, you've scored one point. OK, it's now the turn of Armando Iannucci. Your subject, Armando, is Father Christmas, also known as Santa Claus or St Nicholas, the figure who in most Western cultures is described as bringing gifts on Christmas Eve.

Off you go, Armando. Well, I was surprised by my research into Father Christmas to discover that not every country believes Santa comes down the chimney. In parts of Eastern Europe, he arrives in the post. And in Spain, he comes out the taps. That's why many Spanish... That's why many Spanish fathers pretending to be Santa end up with severe spinal injuries.

If you shave Santa's beard off and tidy his hair, he looks like Martin McGuinness. That would be true, wouldn't it? I don't know. I don't think it's been done. I was just guessing. You know when those Spanish people hurt their backs coming out? Is that what they call tapas?

I actually did think of it at the time, but didn't bother coming in with it. I'd rather wish I had one. But it is Christmas. I'm like a human cracker. The great thing about a cracker joke compared to this experience is when you read a cracker joke,

you don't then have to deal with the remorse of the person who wrote it. Because if the joke goes badly, there's always a plastic key ring. Yes. And there's the hat. I might be alone in this, but I always slightly judge people by how long they keep the hat on. People who are quite keen to get rid of it early

I think of as vain and not fun. I'm glad you said that. I thought you were going to have a go at the people who keep it on for quite some time. No, no, I am one of those people. I keep it on. Are you last? I'm one of the last people to take it off.

Absolutely. I keep it on so long that when I take it off, it feels like it's still there. Armando, carry on. The Dutch knew St Nicholas as Sintiklaas, which is where we get Santa Claus from. That's true. The Dutch did call him Sintiklaas.

That is true, and that is where we get Santa Claus from. So, yep, well done. That's a point. Thank you. a clause from. So, yep, well done. That's a point. Thank you. Sinti Klaas is believed to have been present at the Council of Nicaea in AD 325

at which the date of Christmas was fixed. Graham, everybody knows that. He is believed to have been present at the Council of Nicaea and that is when they fix the date of Christmas. The Council settled for Christmas Day. The names of Father Christmas' six reindeer

are Rudolph, Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Jonathan Ross and Russell Brand. Among the reindeer, Russell Brand and Jonathan Ross get up to all sorts of tricks, most of which are amusing, but some of which are unacceptable. Father Christmas lives in a place called Lapland, which is why he's frequently confused with Peter Stringfellow. Jack.

Father Christmas is well documented. He lives in Lapland. No, he doesn't. He lives in the North Pole. Yeah. In 2001... LAUGHTER There are no reindeer in the North Pole. No. There are his there.

They're not normal reindeer, Jack. They can fly. Yes. In 2001, a Mother Christmas sued a US store for $100,000 because she was sacked for having breasts. If you laid out the beard... Sean. I think that's probably true.

Yes, that is true. Yes. Did she have breasts on display or something? Was that part of the... No, I don't think so. Like Santa's grotto, you come in, you get a present. something was that part of it no i don't think so like santa's grotto you come in you get a present if you laid out the beards of all the world's father christmases end to end it would make a rope stretching all the way to the sun

the rope would instantly catch fire sending a ball of flame hurtling to the earth. The only man who could stop it would be Bruce Willis. It is no wonder, then, that research in New York stores found that only 1% of children were happy or exhilarated to meet Santa Claus, 82% were indifferent, and 16% were hesitant. Sean? I think that's probably true as well.

Yes, that is true. Every time I take my children, they hate it. They're terrified. They would rather have, like, root canal work done than go into Santa's grotto. Maybe you take them to a grotto where there's a woman exposing herself. Kids don't like it. They really don't like it. My brother wouldn't have his stocking in his bedroom

because he didn't like the idea of a strange man sneaking, even a gift-bearing strange man. Whereas you did like the idea. He's saying I was a flirt with Marley Christmas. I think you put the stockings on And waited for them I think that's the truth of it Standing on your bed with your hands on your hips

With two stockings on Like this You know those Emmanuel posters With your back to the chimney. Please carry on. The original Santa Claus was a wild grey bear who would mark his territory by pooing on it and then squirting it with scent. The Santa droppings were distinctive brightly coloured cubes,

which came to be known as pre-cents or presents. And this is why we give brightly coloured presents to children and why also, after three days, they're completely crap. Santa has more mail than any other fictional or divine entity. That's probably true. true yes that is true and in fact amanda was going to go on to say god and sherlock holmes come next in terms of getting male however unlike god and sherlock holmes santa claus does exist true spirit of christ, that's true.

Yes, that is absolutely true. You get a point. Is that you, therefore, definitively saying that God doesn't exist? No, that Santa does exist. Look, I'm very happy to say anything about God, but let's not get seriously blasphemous. You know what Christmas is about? What we all believe in at Christmas is the magic man with the free stuff.

So, Sean gets a point. Yes. And let's move on. Thank you, Armando. So, Armando, at the end of that round, you've managed to smuggle no truths past the rest of the panel, which means you've scored no points.

Which brings us to the final scores. In fourth place, with no points, we have Armando Iannucci. In third place, with one point, it's Jack D. In second place, with three point, it's Jack D. In second place, with three points, it's Graham Garden. And in first place, with an unassailable five points, it's the winner of our Christmas special, Sean Locke. That's just about it, but before we go, a quick word about dogs. According to a recent survey,

three out of ten British dogs are given as Christmas gifts. But remember, a dog isn't just for Christmas. A large one can provide sandwiches right through to New Year. And with that, thanks to our guests, they were incredible, and that's The Unbelievable Truth. The Unbelievable Truth was devised by John Naismith and Graham Garden and featured David Mitchell in the chair with panellists Jack Dee, Graham Garden, Sean Locke and Armando Iannucci.

The chairman's script was written by Ian Pattinson and the producer was John Naismith. It was a random production for BBC Radio 4.