Tonight with Vladimir Putin, review: The BBC should have pulled the plug on this unfunny, offensive mess
Never upset a despot with nuclear weapons and deadly nerve agents at his disposal. Spoof chat show Tonight with Vladimir Putin (BBC Two) could infuriate the Russian president - not so much because it was disrespectful but because it was so execrably poor. The Kremlin kingpin is hardly renowned for his sparkling sense of humour but even he’s funnier than this misguided mess.
Through a combination of CGI and motion capture technology, this flop double bill found an animated approximation of Putin interacting with real-life “celebrities” (I use the term loosely). The results were deeply weird, with faux-Putin resembling a cross between a Spitting Image puppet and an It’s A Knockout giant. He was twice the size of everyone else, despite running gags about his diminutive stature.
The first episode featured former spin doctor Alastair Campbell (cue a squabble about whether he or Putin invented fake news) and presenter June Sarpong (patronisingly forced to play a game called “Diversity Challenge”).
The second batch of guests, feminist comic Deborah Frances-White and inarticulate actor Joe Swash, were even lower-rent, although at least Frances-White introduced a modicum of wit to proceedings.
The way that guests were wheeled out to answer three questions, then ushered off looking bemused recalled ITV car-crash The Nightly Show - never a promising predecessor to invoke.
There were occasional decent gags. Putin’s catchphrase was “Watching me, surveilling you” and he plugged his range of “Novichok-olates: the gift you only have to give once”.
He asked Campbell: “A lot of young people these days go into politics because of idealism. They’re all like, I’m transgender this or I’m gay that. What happened to traditional values in politics, like good old-fashioned thirst for power, crushing your enemies and tacit approval of paedophilia by ruling elites?” Not snappy but at least it had bite.
However, such high spots were hard to spot while watching through one’s fingers. The hackneyed script creaked like a rusty gate in a gale. Attempts at edgy un-PC humour came over as desperate. Putin’s accent, channelling the insurance ad meerkats, slipped a few times.
Just when things couldn’t get much more excruciating, out came a caricatured rendering of the Duchess of Sussex (I initially thought it was Victoria Beckham) for regular slot “Meghan Markle’s Royal Sparkle”. She fielded planted questions from the studio audience, while fidgeting and giggling nervously.
The “gag”, such as it was, saw her erupt into spittle-flecked fury - even threatening to “cut” Kate Middleton. Portraying Markle as vacuous trailer trash with a penchant for violence was offensive and borderline racist. Characterising Putin as a cuddly comic figure was in similarly poor taste, considering his regime's bloody wars and human rights record.
One punter asked faux-Markle: “As a member of one of the UK’s wealthiest families, why are you doing this show?” The latter part of the question could apply to the entire cast and crew. It’s baffling how this shambles got on-air. The sole upside was that each instalment was only 12 minutes long. Small mercies should be taken where we can find them.
The Corporation surely knew it had a honker on its hands, hence sneaking out double doses in a graveyard slot, hoping nobody would notice. There have been rumours of its transmission being delayed while it was re-edited for damage limitation. Outdated topical references reinforced the suspicion it had been kept in storage for months.
They should have been brave enough to pull the plug altogether or at least demote it to BBC Three. Corporation execs came out of this bizarre embarrassment with less dignity than Putin himself.
