Content Lessons: Mark Kermode and Simon Mayo's Film Reviews
The followers of ‘Wittertainment’ are so devout they speak of it as a church, not just a radio show.
Every Friday afternoon for almost two decades, Simon Mayo and Mark Kermode have spent an hour or two reviewing the latest film releases; pouring praise on the Oscar-worthy, frying the turkeys and interviewing those who create magic on the silver screen.
As the “BBC’s flagship film show”, it has won a host of major awards and was the corporation’s fourth most downloaded podcast for most of the noughties.
Quality content is always best defined by consistency and longevity. This programme has endured moves from Radio 1 to Radio Five Live, the station’s physical move from London to Manchester and the departure of one of the presenters from the BBC amid reports of acrimony.
The BBC is a much-admired yet deeply flawed organisation whose funding structure should provide it with preeminence in a world of fake news, partisan politics cloaked as serious debate and, as a result, intense division. However the corporation has lost focus, confidence and conviction in the last few decades as traditional media has fragmented. As a result, it now seems to chase quantity of audience when it should be in pursuit of quality of output. It has become a curious beast, incapable of standing up for its own principles, thereby susceptible to fads and whims.
Despite all this, Kermode and Mayo’s Film Reviews has not only survived but flourished. As an earlier adopter of podcasts, I have missed only a handful of shows with these two venerable broadcasters over the past 15 years. In its early days on Radio Five Live, it was an hour amid Mayo’s afternoon show, now it is double that length. If you add a top and tail, counted as ‘Podcast Extras’, their weekly witterings often amount to 150 minutes. Much longer than the commute-to-work period so many podcast producers look to inhabit.
I listened to the show well before my children were born even though I went to the cinema only half a dozen times a year. I continued to tune in religiously throughout their toddler years, a period in which most perma-tired parents do not dream of going to the movies.
Mayo and Kermode are not much older than myself with school-age kids of their own. So over the years, they have consistently taken off half-term and holidays as family time. However, the show kept going and replacements were brought in to assess the movies during these weeks.
But I never listened.
The substitutes were (and still are) eminently capable but it is just not the same. These days I delete those podcast downloads without even listening.
Just as Kermode always says “Jaws is not a movie about a shark”, this is not a movie show about movies, or at least that is not the reason I have been listening for so long.
Looking at my consumption habits from a distance, clearly my hook is the relationship between the two presenters, their repartee and, has time as gone on, the familiarity.
Mayo was a high-profile DJ on Radio 1, the UK’s leading pop music station at a time in my youth when the music charts were relevant. He was also a regular presenter on Top of the Pops, perhaps the most important weekly 30 minutes of television for a Generation Xer in the UK. We have all grown up since then but both men are musically minded, regularly throwing in songs and lyrics that could only resonate with those from our generation.
Kermode is forceful, opinionated and, at first appeared a touch arrogant but, over time, has built a huge repository of respect among listeners who may not universally agree with his view but always appreciate it.
There is a warmth between them and reverence for each other’s abilities but also a realism and humanity. They regularly bicker and snipe at one another but only in that playful way that male friends do. There is an array of in-jokes that act to deepen the long-term listener’s affection and, of course, a reverence and enthusiasm for movies.
The lesson for creators is clear – value your chemistry as much as your content and consider the means of communication as much as its composition.
Not everything engaging is tangible, not everything memorable is measurable and sometimes the way a product is produced is, in fact, the product itself.
And, of course, whatever you do always say hello to Jason Isaacs.
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