Lloyd Evans

Wow. For Rishi fans, that was one to forget. The Tory leader lacked his usual fluency and focus at PMQs today. Instead of a hungry whippet leaping out of the traps, we watched a fretful hare being chased around the circuit. If mockery won votes, this was a landslide Rishi’s sub-par effort coincided with a rare display of competence from Sir Keir Starmer who, for once, used clever tactics at the despatch box. He cooked up a difficult to answer question and asked it again and again. Why doesn't he do that every week? Rishi kept parroting the same non-answers which made him look feeble. The issue was Rwanda, and Sir Keir accused the government of ‘losing contact with 85 per cent of the 5,000 people earmarked for removal… Has he found them yet?’ he asked.

Both leaders seemed pretty chipper at PMQs. With an election likely this year, Rishi Sunak has nothing to lose and Sir Keir Starmer has everything to gain. He opened with a dig at Sunak’s plan to ‘stop the boats’ which, he alleged, the PM had never truly believed in. Sir Keir lamented that ‘the Rwanda gimmick’ has already swallowed £400 million without a single migrant being removed.  Sunak responded with some interesting footwork. He reduced the problem to ‘Albania’ and said that the number of Albanian applicants had fallen by 93 per cent. Then, with a deft shimmy, he added that Australia had used this method to prevent migrants arriving by boat.

Looking back at the year’s West End theatre, a few shows stand out. First, the best. Vanya, starring Andrew Scott at the Duke of York's Theatre, was an audacious and frankly barmy attempt to reimagine Chekhov’s sprawling family melodrama, Uncle Vanya, as a monologue. The risk was that it might come across as a lengthy pitch for a TV show performed by an incorrigible show-off. But Scott made it work. Copycat projects are bound to follow. One of the year’s worst efforts, A Little Life, was based on an American novel about sexual torture and self-harm. The star, James Norton, spent most of his time on stage at the Harold Pinter hacking his forearms to bits or being kicked around by various abusers. Claret got spilled all over the place. Norton tugged his clothes off as well.

Christmas at PMQs began with a call for the government to scrap its in-house astrology team.  Greg Smith, a Tory backbencher, said he was fed up with the Office of Budget Responsibility whose latest forecast ‘was £30 billion out.’ Smith wants ‘lower taxes’ and he suggested that ‘we need a better system of financial modelling.’ In other words the OBR’s staff should be confined to a maximum security care-home for incompetent economists. He’s got a point. The OBR’s latest predictions are that Christmas Day will fall ‘in late December’ and that ‘the present decade is likely to end by 2030.’ Mind you, the OBR were right when they foresaw that Sir Keir Starmer would use at least two sham tactics at PMQs.

The Rwanda treaty has established two new norms in politics. First, the Supreme Court acts as a revising chamber with the power to change government legislation. Secondly, Labour is terrified of Rwanda.  At PMQs, Sir Keir thought he was on a winning ticket and all he had to do was mock the relocation scheme and score an easy victory. He began with a joke: three Tory home secretaries have been sent to Rwanda but not one refugee.  Rishi ignored that and updated the house on Labour’s policy which is to ‘scrap the scheme if and when it is operational,’ he said. He concluded that Sir Keir ‘finds himself on the side of the people smugglers.’  Labour doesn’t realise how bad this will sound on the doorstep.

Winter looms, and at PMQs the Scottish nationalists were swift to exploit the darkness and the chill.  ‘Dread,’ intoned Stephen Flynn, the SNP’s freakishly macabre leader in Westminster. ‘Their hearts fill with dread,’ he said. Flynn was describing the inner lives of parents in Aberdeen as they contemplate the first snows of November. Their ‘dread’ arises from the knowledge that ‘they simply can’t afford to pay their energy bills,’ he explained. If Flynn played an executioner at the London Dungeon he wouldn’t need a face-mask. His natural expression does the job. He moved on to the children of Aberdeen who, he conceded, ‘were filled with delight’ at the prospect of snow.

PMQs began with Sir Keir Starmer’s favourite trick. He read out a sob-story intended to humiliate the government. Having outlined the woes of two unfortunate citizens, he accused Rishi Sunak of ‘refusing to take responsibility’ and of ‘boasting that everything is fine’. The sad pawns in this prank were a teenage boy and his hard-working mother. Sir Keir even named them in the house. The young lad doesn’t go to school and his mum struggles to look after him while maintaining her job in the NHS. The pair get no help. They have no friends or neighbours, apparently. No colleagues, no relatives and no teachers to give them support. There isn’t even a boyfriend or a husband to share the load.

The House of Lords is like a bag of doughnuts in the lap of a traffic policeman. There’s always room for one more. The newest peer, David Cameron, was the subject of much amused scorn at PMQs. Rishi Sunak wasn’t prepared for an obvious query about his new Foreign Secretary: what is Dave’s greatest feat on the international stage? Kevin Brennan, of Labour, put this question, and he asked Rishi to name a specific achievement. ‘Many, many,’ said Rishi, floundering in shallow waters. In search of a highlight from Dave’s CV, he said that he ‘hosted one of the most successful G8 summits of recent times.’ Rishi didn’t enlarge.

Two of the world’s great unelected power-brokers met last night at Bletchley Park. Elon Musk and Rishi Sunak held a joint interview after the international conference about AI. Their topic was regulation. ‘What should a government like ours be doing?’ said the PM. What an odd start. Why is the Prime Minister asking a foreign billionaire to pre-empt parliament by shaping our internal regulations for us? But Elon seems to get a free pass. He’s regarded as a disinterested operator who supports the powerless against the mighty. And his air of eccentric innocence is fortified by his appearance. He hadn’t bothered to shave. His jowls are rimmed with bum-fluff and he grins constantly like an excited schoolboy. No stylist gets anywhere near him.