Lloyd Evans Lloyd Evans

Jeremy Corbyn shows why he shouldn’t stick to the script at PMQs

Brexit is going well, apparently. And the prime minister seemed in chipper mood at PMQs. She was even enjoying herself. To neutrals this is a distressing sight. To fans of the Tory leader it must seem downright dangerous. History has taught us that when May feels she’s on top the world, the world promptly lands on top of May.

Corbyn raised council tax. His theme was Tory misrule, higher bills and vanishing services. Privatisation fetishists at Northamptonshire, he said, had caused the council to implode entirely. May felt herself on solid ground as she fought back by cataloguing Corbyn’s troubles at council level which have led to two recent Labour defections to the Tories. She seemed to relish the thunderous dissent raised by the opposition benches. She leaned over the despatch box, taking her time about things, tilting her head this way, and then that way, smirking a little, dipping her chin winsomely, throwing out shy-Diana glances, and then pausing to smirk a little more. She seemed perfectly serene, if a little stagey. She attacked the shadow communities secretary for threatening a new land-value tax, (‘a tax on gardens,’ she called it), and the Labour benches howled and flapped at her derisively.

She reeled back. ‘Oh no whoa whoa whoa,’ she crowed, while swatting her hand in the air. This looked distinctly peculiar. (Her intention was to satirise the gesticulations of Labour MPs). Re-edited for a hostile TV advert, her performance could appear completely deranged. Someone with so little fluency in public should never let herself improvise. As it is, May looks like an Agatha Christie chambermaid trying to pass herself off as a duchess. By adding spur-of-the moment noises and gestures she may give the impression she’s park-bench potty.

Corbyn had the opposite difficulty.

Already a subscriber? Log in

Keep reading with a free trial

Subscribe and get your first month of online and app access for free. After that it’s just £1 a week.

There’s no commitment, you can cancel any time.

Or

Unlock more articles

REGISTER

Comments

Don't miss out

Join the conversation with other Spectator readers. Subscribe to leave a comment.

Already a subscriber? Log in