We’ve discussed it many times: the reasons why the UK produces so many great actors (and compelling pop stars, I might add). I mean, beyond his training methods and a fruitful work microsystem. This brings us into the elusive field of British character, which is supposed to foreground the suppression of emotions and thus tolerance of other people’s fictions. This perhaps explains the abundance of fraudsters, from Gregor MacGregor, who invented a country starved for investment (Poyais, supposedly in Central America), to Malcolm McLaren (after he launched the Sex Pistols, even though it was his fault). Lacking musical talents, he transformed himself back into a recording artist). .
One of these amazing fraudsters was Ronnie Cornwell, although the “detection” came to him only after the fact; His shadow hangs over the entire work of his son, the writer John Le Carré. Ronnie spent time in prisons in various countries, but managed to make a living through brazen scams. I remembered his career while watching The Greatest Show Never Made, a three-episode series available on Prime Video. Here the fraudster calls himself Nikita Russian, and his friends call him Nik, which is likely to arouse suspicion: Nikita was a hit from 1985, where – if the embarrassing video is to be believed – Elton John falls in love with a border guard from the German Democratic Republic Republic. Already.
Here we go: In 2002, reality TV shows – Big Brother, Pop Idol, Survivor – took Britain by storm. One advert appears to ask potential contestants to give up a year of their life with the chance of winning £100,000 (and the resulting celebrity). After a casting, three teams are formed, each with 10 candidates. People who give up their job and sometimes their place of residence to pursue “their dream”. We follow the adventures of a team. When Nik meets in a desolate London park, he explains to them that they won’t be locked up in an ad hoc house: the test is to live alone and, er, make a million pounds.
The accommodation is decided by one of the members who invites them to his apartment. He is Tim, a professional clown who has a video camera with which he records his companions’ daze as they realize they won’t be traveling to an exotic destination – they had to show up with a passport – and that they must sign a reckless contract. Warning signs sound: They discover that Nik was employed at a bookstore chain and that they don’t know him on the channel that is supposed to broadcast the show. They decide that the reality show only exists in his head: they hold him until he confesses to a team from the London Tonight show. They gain no fame, but a certain amount of shame: Nik for his farce, she for her naivety. They disperse.
20 years later they come together. A real television production company, legitimized by Amazon money, has built a replica of Tim’s apartment in a studio, with rich colors as if it were a fable. They reflect on their experiences from 2002 and finally admit a certain affection for Nik. After a detective follows his trail, it turns out that he, like the others, has rebuilt his life. And everyone finally achieves their goal: to star in a series.
All the culture that goes with it awaits you here.
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