Over the weekend, I watched one of the worst films I have ever seen. "Love Actually" features Hugh Grant, cast as Britain’s prime minister. In one of the film’s most important moments, Grant insults the American president at a joint press conference. The scene has become so famous that when Douglas Alexander, a minister in the Brown government, made some ambiguous comments about the US in a recent speech, pundits eagerly debated whether Britain was having a "Love Actually" moment.

I have no interest in the thought of Hugh Grant as prime minister. But I would pay money to see Boris Johnson in 10 Downing Street - just for the pleasure of seeing him conduct a joint press conference with the US president. I am sure Johnson would be perfectly polite. But the contrast between a shambling, unkempt and inarticulate "Boris" and the slick polished style of a US president would be a wonderful practical joke to play on the Americans.

My fantasy of a "Boris Actually" moment came a tiny bit closer to reality today - when Johnson announced that he is to run for mayor of London for the Tories. (After all, if Rudy Giuliani can run for the US presidency from New York…) Johnson starts as an outsider. He is up against Ken Livingstone, a charismatic incumbent - and it is a long time since the Tories could aspire to being the majority party in London.

But Johnson has one huge advantage on his side - celebrity. The true mark of his fame in Britain is that he is one of those rare people who is universally known by a single name - "Boris"; a bit like "Hillary" or "Becks". Boris’s doings - his gaffes, his televison appearances, his apologies, his wit, his newspaper columns, his affairs - have turned him into one of those people who are now famous for being famous.

The odd thing is that the caricature of the shambling, disorganised Boris is now so well established that is is easy to overlook the fact that Johnson is very clever. He also writes beautifully: a particular favourite of mine is an excuse he gave for missing a deadline as a journalist - "Dark forces dragged me away from the keyboard, swirling forces of irresistible intensity and power."

Through his writing and his TV appearances, "Boris" has turned himself into a character out of PG Wodehouse. It sometimes seems as if the persona he has invented himself has taken over, so that now there is no distinction between "Boris" the caricature and the real person underneath it all.

In a way, this is rather sad. It reminds me of an episode from the "Colditz Story" - a television series set in a German POW camp, which was popular when Johnson and I were both children. In one episode, a British prisoner decides to feign madness so that he will be sent home on medical grounds. This act goes on for months and months - and eventually works. But when the prisoner gets back to Britain, it turns out that he has been pretending to be insane or so long that he really has gone mad. I sometimes wonder whether something similar hasn’t happened to Boris Johnson - and the ‘act’ has taken over the person?

July 16th, 2007 in UK politics | Permalink