Liz Truss appears to have spurned introspection for stubbornness, writes James Millar, but could a few episodes of moving TV get through to her?
Despite being neither a child nor a teenage snogger, I’ve contrived to contract tonsillitis. This meant that Liz Truss’s nutty ramble in defence of her blink-and-miss-it premiership was not the only thing I found hard to swallow at the weekend.
In an effort to rest, I set up on the sofa with a list of films and TV shows I’ve been meaning to catch up on. And, yet, everything I watched kept bringing me back to the UK’s undisputed poorest PM in history.
It’s not even like you can claim Truss didn’t have time to do much wrong. She entered Downing Street, sat tight for a fortnight while the nation mourned Her Majesty the Queen, then promptly set about blowing up the economy, with the inevitable swift end to her time in Number 10 following on.
Which makes the decision to publish her essay explaining why she was right and everyone else was wrong all the more baffling.
It felt like an article crying out for the editor’s spike. But it says something about the fracturing of the media landscape that it saw the light of day. Certain outlets are willing to sacrifice sense in pursuit of clicks.
Truss and Kwarteng didn’t leave anything awe-inspiring behind
It was the literal cracking of a landscape that formed the basis of the first item on my watchlist. Fire of Love is an Oscar-nominated documentary about a couple who chase volcanic eruptions.
Volcanologists Katia and Maurice Krafft initially favour the spectacular – they actually play with fire, tossing chunks of superheated rock between their fireproof mittens.
Maurice takes a boat trip on a lake consisting of acid that goes wrong. But the experience doesn’t put him off; he’s convinced he can go further and successfully apply his theories in order to canoe on a deadly lava flow.
The couple’s insistence on getting ever closer to danger brings the film to an inevitably tragic conclusion. (That’s not a spoiler, the end of the story is signposted at the start of the film.)
The footage is spectacular. But it’s hard not to watch the pair dancing before fountains of lava, having to be dragged away from burning clouds before they are overwhelmed, and see Liz Truss and Kwasi Kwarteng reflected back.
Here was a pair of politicians convinced they could perform a political jig in the shadow of elemental economic forces and avoid being overwhelmed. Like the Kraffts, they were wrong.
The Kraffts paid the ultimate price, but left behind awe-inspiring images and research that has saved lives since. Kwasi Kwarteng still shamelessly swans about parliament, and Liz Truss emerges from the abyss to explain why she would’ve been a success, if it wasn’t for the immutable rules that the rest of humankind must respect.
No one would write such an odd and unsympathetic character
After Fire of Love, the Disney+ algorithm flagged a second series called Reservation Dogs. This is a show set on a modern day Indian reservation in America. It’s sweet, surreal, funny and fundamentally profound. All qualities that Liz Truss lacks.
The cast of young, indigenous actors play characters struggling with competing demands to respect their traditions and their elders, while longing for a more exciting future. They wrestle with what it means to be good and grow as the episodes unfurl.
No Truss allegories here. Her weekend missive made it clear that she’s spurned introspection and personal growth for stubbornness and blind faith. No one would write such an odd and unsympathetic character.
But Reservation Dogs throws up some questions that apply to any PM. When the lead character lands a job as a roofer, some of his workmates leave him to get on with it on the basis that the danger of working at height is such that he’ll learn from any mistakes. But another more experienced colleague steps in, shows him the ropes and explains that, at work – as in life, for he feels he failed his own son – it’s better to try and get it right the first time.
I don’t know which approach is the correct one – it’s a big question. But, I appreciate intelligent TV that makes you think. And, when I ponder how it applies to the Trussites, it’s clear they’ve rejected both options.
Truss appears to blame gravity for the collapse, rather than her own carelessness
They forsook safety measures and brought the roof crashing in on the UK economy, but have apparently failed to learn any lessons at all. Truss appears to blame gravity for the collapse, rather than her own carelessness.
And, so, the algorithm grinds on as I wait for the antibiotic to take effect. Next up is Turning Red, an animated movie about a girl with an unfortunate habit of turning into a giant red panda. Here, at last, there is no link to Liz Truss, for the trigger that causes the transformation is entirely alien to the ex-PM – it is shame and embarrassment.
James Millar is a political commentator, author and a former Westminster correspondent for The Sunday Post
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