Set between the outbreak of Covid in early 2020 and the spring of the following year, Joseph Bullman’s film has Johnson himself as a peripheral presence, played by a lookalike filmed from behind and voiced by Jon Culshaw. Our protagonists are the aides, advisers, PR people and junior civil servants around him – most of whom are named, real people.
By day, they were running the country. By night, they were on the wine and karaoke, and Partygate’s core mission is to say, yes, the rule-breaking really was that bad, both in terms of the number of parties – each of the 15 shown is numbered and dated by a caption on the screen – and how debauched they were. Its signature scene is a horribly authentic rendering of a full-on blowout: sweat, snogs and spew in a confined space.
Whenever you wonder whether the dramatizations can possibly be accurate, relevant quotes from Sue Gray’s report pop up to corroborate them. News clips are also spliced in to show us where we are on the Covid timeline, and to remind us of the extent of the catastrophe. The cold facts are sobering; to explore why they didn’t sober up 10 Downing Street, Bullman creates two fictional main characters, recent recruit Grace (Georgie Henley) and experienced operator Annabel (Ophelia Lovibond).
A recreation of a party in the garden at No 10. Photograph: Jack Barnes/Channel 4
Partygate shares one of the key qualities of The Thick of It, which is not just portraying political professionals as unpleasant, interchangeable idiots but showing them playing their own private parlour game, never giving a thought to how policy affects people. Aside from when someone has to reply to the public’s tweets asking if they can have a Christmas party – absolutely not, the wonk responds, struggling to type because he’s hungover from a Downing Street Christmas party – the wellbeing of the masses does not intrude.
This film, however, gives voice to those who are not members of the club. We regularly cut to stark interviews with those whose irreplaceable final days with dying loved ones were compromised by what they thought were unbreakable rules.
Time is also taken to explore how the Covid booze-ups point to a blatantly rigged justice system: when they were eventually met with legal sanction, Johnson and his underlings were fined £50 each, but we meet ordinary people whose lives were ruined by fines of £10,000 or more.
The searing contempt and bruised regret in the tale it tells is a vital document of a moment of national shame.
AFAIK, all reviews are equally condemnatory and laudatory …
I shall be watching tonight.