Friday 11th July 2025
Blog Page 2132

Top Five Films to…make you laugh irritatingly loudly

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I apologise. ‘Comedy’ is far too broad for me to put my favourites down here and not to have whimpering twats droning in my ear about how Caddyshack is ‘seminal’. (It’s not. You are just a twat.)

But, onward. Anyone under the misconception that comedy is only funny when it is somehow relevant to them only has to look at Charlie Chaplin’s The Great Dictator for renewed faith in early comedies’ power to tickle.

This wonderful pastiche of Nazism includes the subtly (and wonderfully) named dictator Adenoid Hynkel performing a lovely bit of ballet with a big inflatable globe. Absolute genius.

This and the films of Chaplin contemporary Buster Keaton form the basis for almost all physical comedy produced today.

Despite the seeming dearth of genuine comedy talent in mainstream cinema in recent years, some gems have nevertheless emerged, foremost among them Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy.


Without a doubt, it contains some of the greatest hammed-up lines in modern cinema, whilst the romantic sub plot even (kind of) works.

And just last year, Martin McDonagh’s move from stage to screen produced the hysterically funny In Bruges, thereby proving that there is room for sharp and biting dialogue in amongst the temptation of star power to carry a film.

Doing comedy a little bit differently often helps too, and Rob Reiner’s This Is Spinal Tap exploits the director’s incredible (albeit anal) attention to detail, to ensure that the film gets every bit of the documentary style spot on.

The result? The viewer is immediately and intensely transported into the sordid world of Nigel Tufnel and co.

Choosing my absolute personal favourite, though, required a painstaking effort to decide which comedy classic to pick from the bastion of bloody funny that is the complete Monty Python oeuvre. In the end, The Meaning of Life won out with just the right combination of witty dialogue and absurdity.

I know everyone will disagree with me, so I say this to the whimpering twats-bring it on.

 

 

 

Album Review: Skepta’s Microphone Champion

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‘Let me tell you why I’m the King of Grime…’, brags Joseph Junior Adenuga, aka Skepta, in album opener ‘Reflecting’. Admittedly, North London’s foremost DJ-cum-producer-cum-MC has grounds for gloating; Skepta has carved out a reputation for himself on the North London grime scene as something of a shrewd operator, establishing prominent label/collective Boy Better Know with brother JME, and teaming up with grime mogul Wiley last year to record a UK Top 100 single in ‘Rolex Sweep’.

He also created a minor dance phenomenon in the process; imagine a chronometrically-themed, grimey Macarena, and you’re some way towards imagining the song’s bizarre music video. Incidentally, it’s fellow wristwatch-enthusiast Wiley who is Skepta’s main contender, set to release his fourth studio album Race Against Time on the same day as Skepta’s Microphone Champion.

Don’t worry though, kids – Wiley’s appearance on second track ‘Are You Ready’ confirms that this feud is nothing but a thinly-veiled publicity stunt, the pair engaging in a staged war of words over familiar shudders of mid-tempo electro. While lyrically solid, it’s not long before we’re treated to the first unnecessary chorus of the album: ‘You can’t threaten me with no bad-man talk/I’m not scared, sorry man’ repeated three times, followed by: ‘I’ve seen so much, now I don’t give a monkey’s/I swing from tree to tree, just like monkeys’.

Unfortunately, it’s only on opening track ‘Reflecting’ that Skepta mercifully declares ‘no chorus’. The mindnumbingly repetitive refrains very soon start to grate; in recent single ‘Sunglasses At Night’, Skepta barks: ‘Roses are red, violets are blue/You know that I got my eyes on you’. The old charmer.
And, of course, there’s ‘Rolex Sweep’. This really is a terrible song; the sort of content-lite drivel that epitomises the recent glut of electro-grime-meets-pop-seeks-chart success. The result is one that radically compromises Skepta’s artistic integrity, and is unlikely to appeal to anyone who isn’t a drunk student in a club.

That said, there is a handful of decent tracks amongst the sixteen: sleazy ‘Look Out’ has UK Hip-Hop MC Giggs deliver his sinister lyrics through a dark, syrupy bassline, layered with pitch-dipping techno synths; wild card track ‘Skepta’ is great fun, ditching all lyrical sincerity for something a bit more funky.

 

These tracks may flaunt Skepta’s abilities behind the mixing desk, but the irony of the album’s title is that his rhymes aren’t the centrepiece that they should be; gone are the intelligent lyrics that characterised his 2007 debut Greatest Hits, surrendered in return for sing-song choruses and gratuitous guest appearances. And a new Macarena.

 

Two Stars out of Five

Interview: Bombay Bicycle Club

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Every year for four days in May The Great Escape Festival sees the city of Brighton taken over by an army of music fans who swarm to the 34 bars and clubs chosen to host the performances in the hope of catching the year’s ‘next big things’ before they hit the big time.

One of these bands is Bombay Bicycle Club, who seem destined to be perpetually ‘hotly-tipped’ for success. Having offered two excellent performances across the three days, and with an album on the way later this year, they seem finally ready to fulfil their much vaunted potential.

2006 was a big year for Bombay Bicycle Club. Having formed just a year before that, the four boys in their mid-teens suddenly faced the full attention of the English music-press. Some feared that, like so many other skinny-jeaned indie-hopefuls, the band would be too young to withstand the harsh winds of the hype machine. Happily, they emerged virtually unscathed from the clutches of the NME’s claws and, talking to singer Jack Steadman, guitarist Jamie MacColl, and bassist Ed Nash, it is clear that they couldn’t be more optimistic about the band’s future.

‘We want to be the biggest band in the world,’ jokes MacColl, ‘but seriously, we just want to do this for as long as we can. It’s been frustrating not being able to put an album together, but now that it’s ready it’s pretty exciting’.

But how did being on the pages of NME at only fifteen years old affect them? Surely it must have been hard to keep their feet on the ground when their rockstar dreams were coming true before their eyes?

‘We were really well managed: we weren’t aware of the hype at all. It was weird being recognised-and it was definitely exciting-but we didn’t take it too seriously. We’ve all got places at university waiting for us if this doesn’t work out; we’ve tried to be sensible about it’.

Asked if they’re happy with their debut album, the response comes promptly in the affirmative. ‘Definitely,’ asserts Steadman, ‘some of the songs are a few years old now, so it’s hard to keep perspective when you’re so familiar with them, but we’re pleased with the finished product. It’s been a long time coming; now we just want to get it out there’.

Having worked so hard on the album, MacColl says the possibility of it leaking online is a definite concern for the band. ‘It would make you sick if you’d been working on an album for ages and people got their hands on it before you were ready. It happened to Grizzly Bear, one of our favourite bands: they recorded an incredible album and it leaked months before the release date’.

The issues of releasing albums in the modern world aside, Nash asserts that playing live is the only real reason to be in a band: ‘we love it’, he says, ‘we’ll never get tired of it.’ When they start to play, their raw talent makes it instantly clear that they belong on the stage. Their live set is nicely varied, offering shout-a-long choruses while maintaining enough individuality to keep things credible. Their new single ‘Always Like This’ is a definite standout, and sees the crowd descend into an ugly, dancing mess of sweaty youths.
If they continue to perform like this, it seems that there is nothing to stop them from triumphantly entering into the mainstream

Uncooping diverse talents

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Next Tuesday go to the Playhouse and break out of the Oxford bubble. It’ll be the best thing you’ve done all term, and Chickenshed’s As a Mother of a Brown Boy will be by far the best piece of professional theatre you have seen in a long time.

Chickenshed are all about a perspective shift. When the company was founded 25 years ago in north London, the message was simple: that life is good if you’re in it. This remains true today: theatre is at heart a social medium and it must be inclusive.

The group’s emphasis on a kind of modern social humanism infliltrates all of its work. And in the case of Brown Boy, the production’s commitment to human issues goes far deeper than its aesthetic. Director Christine Niering has a hugely personal relationship with the production, as the narrative centres around the traumatic ordeal that her sister underwent when her son was killed. He died in a police chase after being caught up in jewellery thefts in London. The boy had been a member of Chickenshed, where he sought refuge from the harsh realities of growing up as a fatherless black male on the council estates of north London.

Niering is emphatic about the play’s human message. In a piece which deals so provocatively with the ‘black issue’, alongside difficult questions of single parenthood, the danger of dwelling in the solely political dimension is avoided.
This is largely due to the way in which the production is staged artistically. Connectivity is central to Chickenshed’s message; making connections across social and physical boundaries has always been important. Chickenshed productions incorporate not only able-bodied cast members, but also physically or mentally disabled people. It is all about returning to the issue itself: political or social issues are, at heart, human ones. So long as we are able to see through this politicised veil, we are able to see the truth. And for Chickenshed, in art there is truth.

Niering believes Chickenshed’s role is both social and artistic, but that the former must not be at the latter’s expense – ‘our ultimate responsibility is to produce excellent theatre. The only way we can do this is by drawing in individuals who do come from all over the place.’ If Chickenshed were to target one section of society, they would not be able to express the experiences of such a diverse group of people so effectively. It is the company’s social spectrum which makes it unique.

My sister is a member of Chickenshed. She comes from a nice, middle class family and is lucky enough to have been privately educated. Yet, she works and leads young people with severe learning disabilities, kids from the nearby council estates our parents warned us not to walk through. This is the amazing thing about Chickenshed. It unites people regardless of background. Once you are on stage, it’s not about where you’re from: it’s about where you are going.

Ultimately, the production is socio-politically relevant. But in projecting through theatre, the piece breaks down the political and gives a simple message: this is human. In labeling someone as criminal, black, IC1, we immediately alienate that person from him or herself. It’s about treating people with decency, giving them the respect they deserve. As a Mother of a Brown Boy is unique, and deserves your undivided attention.

Fit Fiction: Shakespeare’s Men

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I must confess, my sexual awakening was not found in day-dreamed dalliances with strapping farm-hands from the well-worn pages of Penguin classics. My childhood taught me to understand books as tools of mind-expansion, soul-enrichment and exam-passing, not, alas, groin-engorgement (a-hem). I guess things can change.

Who is my favourite fictional fittie then? Well, the classical heroes are not for me: Achilles’ prowess is hampered by a pushy mother and crippling arrogance; Odysseus’ cunning and strength are dampened by eyes (and other more troubling portions of his anatomy) that wander as far from home as he and his Greek chums.

The warrior-heroes of this fair isle hold little more allure. No doubt Beowulf’s biceps would bulge breathtakingly (and I am sure I could find some use for his legendary grip), but hour upon hour of monosyllabic self-aggrandising tales would wear the libido a little thin methinks.

Perhaps not a hero from the days of yore then, but surely those sexually repressed lascivious ladies of Georgian and Victorian literary circles bequeathed men to tantalise and titillate me? Alas, no. You can keep Darcy with his sexless reserve, his moral fibre and soggy breeches, and though I’d happily make room for Heathcliff’s brooding, dangerous passion, he is too wild a stallion. Gaskell’s men are all eclipsed by their more striking and impressive female counterparts, and Eliot’s are all well-intentioned, intellectual also-rans.

The only rich hunting ground populated with men you can really sink your teeth into is – no, not Bram Stoker’s Dracula – but Shakespeare’s drama. There are so many men in Shakespeare’s work with whom I could tussle the sheets all midsummer night long making the ‘beast with two backs’ (forgive me), because the way to this man’s heart is one of words. Who can deny the sexiness of Iago’s mastery of both language and man? Certainly not me; that menacing, wordy malignancy, balanced at once dangerously and deliciously with such poise and confidence, is beyond my power to resist. And ‘what a piece of work’ is Hamlet! I could forgive a man almost anything if he could talk to me as Hamlet does when declaring his indifference to humanity. I don’t care if ‘man delights not’ him, give me his ‘quintessence of dust’ any day. Then of course, there is Benedict with his suave, acerbic wit, and Oberon with his jealous passion and mystical power, and Othello with his noble presence and physical grandeur…the list goes on. Shakespeare’s men are the men for me; they are, most definitely, fit fiction.

Catz fail to show their claws

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In what had been predicted as a tight affair, St John’s strolled through their second round cuppers match against a lackluster St. Catz side. The new look bowling attack of the home side made short work of the opposition’s batting line up, and a comfortable win was eventually closed out for the loss of only one wicket. The result came as somewhat of a surprise, with St John’s starting the match as underdogs against their higher league opponents. However, St Catz were missing their Blues opening bat, and were struggling with numbers at the start of the game. Thankfully, after winning the toss, St John’s skipper Evans-Young chose to bowl, allowing the Catz latecomers to arrive before it harmed their teams chances.

Despite conditions seeming to favour the batsman, it was clear from the off that the away side would be in for a long day. John’s have been fortunate this year to make one or two key additions to their bowling line-up, the most obvious being that of Roscoe Roman. The imposing South African troubled the with his aggressive style but, frustratingly for him, the pitch seemed to show little life, and his shorter deliveries failed to reach the height desired. Despite the constant threat of Roman’s pace though, Catz captain Patel began to settle nicely into his innings, avoiding one or two close calls and managing to control the strike.

The deadlock was finally broken at the other end, with Mike Jones finally getting the wicket he deserved after a spell of accurate swing bowling. A cross bat shot took the top edge, and was pouched comfortably by the bowler. The next ball bought even more success, as Ryan Taylor suffered being bowled by Jones for a golden duck. But with their backs against the wall, St Catz rallied and began to put together their first meaningful partnership. Patel continued to play well, and was, for once, ably supported. When Roman was taken off after ten overs, it looked as though the worst had been weathered. However, the introduction of Elstrop, another new recruit for John’s, meant this was not to be. After only giving away 10 runs in his first five overs, he finally broke the partnership with a contentious LBW decision.

The Catz innings now seemed to hinge on the performance of Patel. Unfortunately, he was run out by Berend in a bizarre piece of decision making by the new batsman at the wicket. Having not faced a ball, and clearly eager to get on the strike for the first time, he called a suicidal single to midwicket, leaving his captain stranded. The desolation on Patel’s face made it clear that St Catz’ best chance of making a defendable total had just disappeared, out for 23. Despite Elstrop being taken off soon after, the Catz wickets continued to fall. The introduction of the left-arm spin of Vice Captain James Earle had the Catz lower order in all sorts of trouble as they attempted to play off the back foot on a pitch which had been keeping low all day. The result was that the spinner ended up with impressive figures of three wickets in five overs for 12 runs.

Now well into the tail, St John’s chose to bring back Roman for his final overs in an attempt to kill the game off. However, despite clearly being too quick for the tailenders, he somehow failed to get a wicket, eventually bowling out his overs and finishing with none for seventeen off eight. But with Earle steadily taken wickets at the other end, and batsman Deane seemingly the only one attempting to play any shots, the end was not long in coming. The return of Elstrop with Catz nine wickets down signalled the end, and he only needed one ball to condemn the visitors to a paltry 87 all out.

Over lunch the attitudes of the two sides were markedly different, and the game seemed over before Catz had even taken the field. The confidence of the John’s team was proven to be correct however, as openers Lawton and Wintour set about steadily making their way towards the target. Despite some quality bowling from Evans from the Pavilion End, luck seemed to be siding with the home team, as several edges managed to avoid the fielders. Wintour especially was treading a fine line, surviving several close LBW shouts, before eventually dollying one up to extra cover. However, Patel could not make it stick, and Wintour advanced to forty two before finally being bowled out, with St John’s 87-0.

Although now merely a formality, number 3 Eugene Duff seemed surprisingly nervous as he faced his first few deliveries. With only one run to win, and perhaps conscious of his worryingly low average this year, the Etonion played tentatively throughout to find that elusive single.
Thankfully though, Lawton proceeded to crash a ball through the covers for four, thus taking him to 44 and confirming the John’s victory, and bringing to an end Catz chances of proceeding in Cuppers this year. For St John’s however, a place in the quarter finals awaits, and they must be feeling confident after this performance.

Sit down and shut up: the end is not nigh

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“The political system itself is under attack…parliament has failed, the government is paralysed…many MPs feel as if the establishment itself is crumbling.”

All this from the Observer’s feature article on the latest scandals and embarrassments that have careened out of Westminster into the public eye. The British press have always loved smearing the reputation of politicians, and with the expenses scandal the mud lies particularly thick.

There is much being said about MPs expenses all over the country at the moment, much of which is groaningly self-evident. Of course many of the claims made have been ridiculous. Of course we need a more transparent system and greater oversight. Maybe most of the offending MPs are working within the letter if not the spirit of the rules, in which case the rules need changing. And naturally as some have pointed out, Stephen Fry included, people in all walks of life sneak away with a larger slice of pie if they’re able, although I happen to think a pricey hotel room on a journalists travel allowance differs somewhat from thousands of pounds for a non-existent mortgage.

Rather than being swept up in righteous fury and doomsday prophecies on the future of British politics, many members of the respectable British press need to step back and cling tightly to just a small thread of perspective. In every newspaper there are new tales of how the public’s trust in politics has been shattered and how the once noble British parliamentary democracy has been reduced to a shambles

I have a simple for message for all those spouting this sensationalist nonsense: shut up. There is some small flicker of truth in all tales I just mentioned, but not nearly enough to merit the number of journalists currently chanting them like mantras. Firstly the issue of trust. Indeed the public trust in politicians has been damaged by the scandals, but even before the revelations was it really so solid? For many years now politicians in Britain have been considered slimy, arrogant and deceitful until proven otherwise. In a few months people will look back on this episode as another proof of that assumption, and it will fit neatly alongside the countless other scandals which have collectively made the rulers of Britain some of its most reviled inhabitants. You can’t shatter trust that did not exist in the first place.

“Where will this revolutionary fervour end?” Asks one broadsheet journalist eager to please his editor, the implication being that it just might end in revolution. Personally I’m all for some kind of British revolution, we’ve never had one to match the French or the Russians and our political history could certainly do with some livening up. However, neither I nor any other sane person in Britain is feeling the pull of “revolutionary fervour” because a few MPs fiddled the system. This is not the end of parliamentary democracy as we know it, so please Mr Editor, tether your crazy journalist to a pole in a field and leave him there until this all blows over.

When the recession hit the doomsday prophets were out in force predicting the end of capitalism. They were wrong then, and they’re wrong now. Our political system is in no danger. This will all finish with Brown announcing some new measures, a few MPs losing their jobs and most of us breathing a sigh of relief that the press can move on to more important things. Until that golden day comes, let’s not wallow in the romance of Armageddon.

For the Love of Film 10

Just before they take a break from the podcast for a couple of weeks, Ben and Laurence enthusiastically review Coraline and Star Trek, and bring us film news and gossip!

Mistaken Identity

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So, what’s the story with ID cards?

Jacqui Smith has finally announced the introduction of the proposed ID card scheme. Residents of Manchester will be the first to be able to sign up for a biometric ID card, costing £30, in the trial beginning later this year. This is the first stage of an intended national scheme. ID cards became compulsory for non-EU residents living in the UK at the end of last year and have been dolled out to individuals in ‘security-sensitive jobs’, such as workers at London City and Manchester Airports. But the Manchester pilot scheme is the first stage in the introduction of ID cards for UK citizens.

What happens after the pilot?

Current plans are to expand the scheme over the next few years. Next year students will be encouraged to sign up for an ID card when they open a bank account, and from 2011 ID cards will be offered to all UK Passport applicants on a voluntary basis. By 2015 the government wants the majority of non-UK citizens resident in the UK to have ID cards, and the majority of UK citizens to have ID cards by 2017.

What information will ID cards hold?

ID cards will have a photo of the individual carrier and list basic details such as name, date and place of birth, gender, and immigration status. Each card will have a microchip linking that basic information to centralised databases containing biometric information – what the Home Office calls a ‘biometric footprint’ – such as fingerprints and face recognition data or an iris pattern scan.

What’s the point of having ID cards?

ID cards will have a photo of the individual carrier and list basic details such as name, date and place of birth, gender, and immigration status. Each card will have a microchip linking that basic information to centralised databases containing biometric information – what the Home Office calls a ‘biometric footprint’ – such as fingerprints and face recognition data or an iris pattern scan.

How will they do this, exactly?

Police, immigration officers, and other state functionaries will be issued with scanners to check an individual’s identity. Shops, banks, pubs and other businesses will not, but they will be given access to a ‘special helpline’ to call if they get suspicious about an individual’s identity.

Then what’s the harm?

Thanks to opposition from campaign groups like No2ID, and attacks from the opposition and government backbenchers, the ID card proposals remain controversial. One bone of contention is that the estimated £5bn cost of the scheme has been challenged by economists, who reckon the scheme will cost more than double that sum. Another concern that has galvanised public opposition is the potential for state and individual incompetence; especially given the tendency of civil servants to leave laptops on trains and HM Customs’ recent loss of two computer disks containing 25 million people’s personal data. However, the biggest problem with the introduction of ID cards is that they represent a further and profound erosion of freedom and privacy – in particular, the right to live our lives beyond the glare and scrutiny of the state.

But surely if you’ve nothing to hide, there’s nothing to fear?

This mantra underpins the growing state impulse to regulate, intervene and certify almost every aspect of our lives in contemporary society. It assumes that we are all potential miscreants until a state sponsored certificate or biometric ID proves otherwise. This idea only makes sense if we think other individuals are at best untrustworthy, at worse a constant threat to the stability and security of our individual and social lives. ID cards, and the interventionist ideology which underpins it, are much more an expression of a government’s sense of insecurity and isolation from the public than a real solution to the risks and uncertainties of our everyday lives.

The Manifesto Club is running a series of events under the title ‘Freedom Summer’. For more information, go to
www.manifestoclub.com

 

iSPY

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Sitting in state on the South Bank of the Thames, literally and figuratively watching over Government on the other side, the famous building at Vauxhall Cross is one of the most striking modern additions to the London skyline. The illuminated silhouette of a gigantic terraced pyramid, with its symmetrical twin towers blazing against the darkness beyond, has become a standard feature in 007 films and has seared itself onto the national consciousness as a mysterious symbol of espionage and intrigue. Sometimes it is easy to forget that 85, Albert Embankment is a workplace, an office for hundreds of men and women who wear suits and tap away on computers, just like the rest of the world.

Since 2006, the Secret Intelligence Service (more commonly known as MI6) has been openly recruiting staff online, so if you fancy entering the clandestine portals of its Headquarters and becoming James Bond, now is the time to apply. Open advertising on sites like Facebook, building on the 2005 launch of an official website, is intended to broaden and diversify SIS’s recruitment base.

The Head of Recruitment of SIS, known here only as John, is an engaging and articulate man, as you might expect from someone responsible for sourcing the personalities behind the imposing architecture at Vauxhall Cross – or, perhaps, from your friend’s patrician, successful and rather imposing father. He himself was ‘headhunted’ during his final year at Oxford, and has worked for the service ever since. “I was kicking around in my third year, not really sure what I wanted to do yet. And I was approached by someone and asked if I was interested in an interview.”

The days of this kind of tap on the shoulder at Oxford have been and gone. In today’s fraught employment climate, as students attempt to navigate a combination of sponsored company schmoozes, endless internship application forms and Daddy’s best contacts, everyone can apply.

“There are still people in Oxford, quietly asking students if they’ve thought of a career like this”, John revealed. “But nowadays, they will direct people to the website. A lot of people still apply from Oxford, and actually a lot of our successful applications do come from Oxford graduates. But having opened up the process, we have got a much broader base of applicants from different places and stages in their lives. Whilst we still welcome applicants from traditional subjects, like PPE, History and languages, now our recruits have studied a far wider range of subjects.”

It is easy to imagine a crusty old don in a green-tinged gown giving a Modern Languages student the wink over a glass of port during the 1980s, but the fact that some of them are still doing so behind their oak-panelled doors today is certainly food for thought, and demonstrates the lasting link between the University and the Service.

You can apply to SIS from the age of 21 upwards and they do recruit some people straight from University. “Some people have everything we need by then,” explained John. “Others are better suited to coming a few years later, after they’ve done another job and matured a bit.” But whatever age you are at the time of application, there are certain qualities you will need to possess order to make it through the rigorous selection process. “You definitely need a certain degree of intellectual horsepower. Our recruits are generally in the top 25-40% of their peer group. This is why we do stipulate a 2:2 or above as a requirement. As well as being intelligent, you will need to buy into the whole idea of government service and have a commitment to that, not into becoming wealthy. It’s not a job where you’re going to earn stacks of money or be in the limelight. You will need to have good judgement and decision-making skills as well as excellent interpersonal skills. It’s a very team-based job and you will need to have those kinds of personal abilities. We need people of integrity, who people will trust, because at the end of the day you will be out there recruiting and running agents.”

The long list of laudable personal qualities outlined (conjuring up, in my mind anyway, a twenty-five-year-old fusion of Pierce Brosnan and Adam Carter off Spooks) justifies the very long and rigorous process involved in recruiting officers, which can take over 6 months to complete.

The website http://www.sis.gov.uk gives a detailed explanation of the recruitment procedure, which includes an online application, followed by an online cognitive test. If you pass the online cognitive test and the application form sift, you will be invited to a first interview over the telephone. If you pass the first interview you will be invited to a second interview with an experienced operational officer and will be asked to sign the Official Secrets Act. It involves a day spent at the offices in London during which you will also be asked to complete some more cognitive tests and do a written exercise. A successful day will lead to a two day, non-residential assessment centre and a drugs test. If you are successful at the assessment centre, you will move to the final stage of recruitment, which is security clearance. Subject to this clearance and final references being received, you will get a formal offer of employment.

So what do the cherry-picked successful candidates do when they have survived the process? “Recruits go into 3 or 4 months of training when they join the organization,” John explains. “They can then expect a couple of years working in London. When you start you will be mentored by an experienced officer, so we don’t expect you to hit the ground running. Saying that, there is a lot of responsibility, and you will be expected to pick up speed quickly.”

Two people that did just this are James and Tanya, both operational officers who joined SIS soon after graduating. Despite the secret nature of their employment, the immediate impression the pair give is of overwhelming normality. Both disarmingly modest and, frankly, human, the one thing that seems to distinguish them from the majority of their peers is their belief in and enjoyment of their work, both concurring that “yes, the job is both immensely enjoyable and fundamentally worthwhile.”

The lifestyle of young recruits is something that many would worry about subscribing to, given that the job is so serious in nature that you can’t talk about your professional life with outsiders. When pressed about this, John was keen to refute the stereotype. “People coming into the Service have been really impressed by the quality of the people and the convivial environment,” he countered. “Whilst we wouldn’t want it to become an introspective organization, people do form very strong relationships with their colleagues. Of course you can’t be completely open about your job to outsiders, but it soon becomes second nature. People remain in touch with their university friends in just the same way as people in other professional environments.”

Touching on the issue of dealing with ‘outsiders’, operational officer James revealed a similar response: “Since I first joined, I have grown used to conveying the impression to friends that my job involves worthy but rather tedious bureaucracy in a Whitehall department. And there is nothing like tedious bureaucracy to ensure that any social conversation moves swiftly on. Do I wish that I could tell others about the reality of my job, one that is far removed from relentless paper-pushing? No, nor would I be well-suited to the role if I did.”

He doesn’t go so far as to say that his career is ideal. Clearly the age-old problems that have dogged centuries of fictional spies do sometimes take their toll upon their real-life counterparts. “Of course not, no career could ever be ideal. As with any office, it has its frustrations and its demands on your personal life, although far less so than I imagined before I joined – joining SIS doesn’t stop you having a ‘normal’ social life. I have never once looked back at the path I chose in 2000 with any regret, something that cannot be said for most of my university friends.”

Tanya too challenges the stereotypical view of the intelligence officer’s poor social life. “I made friends for life during my initial induction course and some of my peers attended my wedding last year. Having said that it is possible to continue with your old life, and I still regularly see friends that I have known since my school days. Whilst they don’t know what I do, they loved the opportunity to visit me during my overseas posting and meeting up for lunch or a drink after work is still an option. In fact, my work/life balance remains very similar to that during my year in the private sector.”

Whilst fiction has portrayed intelligence officers as combat-trained physical specimens complete with a license to kill, John clarified that this was “a bit of a fantasy. SIS is not a military organization. There are medical tests, but no physical fitness tests for potential recruits. For a small minority of postings in places where there is a potential threat, officers will be trained so they are capable of handling themselves in these areas for their own safety.” So in reality there are less of the rippling Rupert Penry-Jones look-alikes sprinting around the streets of London. What a pity.

A career with SIS can be a career for life, and the Service has very high retention rates, which must say something about the rewarding nature of the work. And the perks do sound appealing: the opportunity to travel, to learn new languages and, in James’ words, “though it sounds hyperbolic to say so, to save lives”.

Spy lifestyles are never going to quite match up to the glamorous world of 007, and you probably won’t find yourself parachuting onto the O2 Arena during your initial training period. There is, nonetheless, a well-trodden path from Oxford to Vauxhall Cross that you might want to think about looking into, starting on the website. Just don’t tell your housemates.