Never mind the politics, I just want to be entertained

Fast forward 40 plus years to a Covid time and, although written as a damning indictment of working class Britain, Weller's vision of the future now looks like a welcome change from our current experience. Recently, it’s highly unlikely that any of us have heard an amateur band, with most musicians having entered the knacker’s yard as there's nowhere to perfect their stagecraft. We have all spent days and weeks watching telly, although with choice comes dilution of content, proving more is not necessarily merrier. And all we can do is but dream of holidays (unless wearing a face mask on the beach as you go self-catering arouses the senses).

It seems, with the tentative loosening of the lockdown shackles, that all we crave is some entertainment: an escape from the forced house arrest, a change from the monotony of the ‘new normal’ as we again dip our toes into the pool of social activity, with others whose intricacies and personal foibles have, in a short year plus, been largely forgotten. I went for my first drinking session in what seems a lifetime recently and, ready to rumble as much as age will allow me these days. I completely forgot my drinking buddy was under a matrimonial curfew as he made his excuses at 8.30pm and left me all dressed up with nowhere to go in a freezing cold beer garden where pandemic paranoia was rife and enjoyment was lacking.

And so we search for entertainment, for something to lighten the mood and give us a respite from the sterile, controlling, damning environment into which we have been forced. Football, having killed the gift horse over the last 12 months or so through relentless ramming of initiatives down people’s throats, has shot itself in both feet. It was always the case that us fans just wanted to be entertained: to spout some vitriol from the terraces and - win, lose or draw - as the bare minimum, we just demanded a little bang for our buck. Instead, the once beautiful game was brought back solely to stop the Premier League from having to refund squillions to Sky as we have had rhetoric, with political intent, rammed down our throats by the media companies and clubs pre, during and post-match.

Soccer Football - Premier League - Watford v Leicester City - Vicarage Road, Watford, Britain - June 20, 2020 Watford's Troy Deeney kneels in support of the Black Lives Matter campaign before the match, as play resumes behind closed doors following the

I cannot name one game that has been thoroughly entertaining since Covid reared its head. I can’t recall a match up with any semblance of atmosphere or that did not have meaningless soundbites or mantras from the hosts that, ultimately, change nothing but irritate the heck out of those who just want to hunker down for 90 minutes after a long day’s work and not be subjected to ‘re-education’ messages at every turn.

Maybe you want to relax at the theatre when allowed? Recently in the Spectator, Lloyd Evans laid out the fare that awaits you should you wish to smell the greasepaint. Gone are feelgood shows about boys undertaking activity that was not deemed masculine in tough as nails pit mining communities, or young animals who find salvation and hope when all is seemingly lost. In its place is the incessant politicising of the entertainment industry with wall to wall ‘thought provoking’ pieces based around the new core subjects of mental health, race and gender identity. Now, most of us are pro-change with each of those subject matters, yet the time and the place is not all the time and in every place. We get the message (it’s hard not to!) and constant reiteration does little but turn off those who began sympathising with the plight but are now tired of the relentless 24/7 mantras. Maybe it is your bag however and you can book into the theatre to watch Hysterical!, which is a woman’s quest to shake off ‘labels’ or The Sun, the Moon and the Stars (another woman’s quest). Then there's Burn at the Old Vic, based around mental health and addiction. Even Wales’ offerings such as HouseFire in Clwyd tells the tale of a rock band that fights the climate crisis and, well, need I go on…

Brett Ellis says the current selection of plays is politicised. Photo: Pixabay

If you are like me, then you have been turned off and will not even ‘entertain’ such folly. If I want to be force fed, I will commit a crime and go on hunger strike, but that will be my call and mine alone. And yes, we have a choice, of sorts: to turn off or not pay to visit the show, but often the messages are sprung upon you, Comic Relief style. Just as you start to relax and remember what enjoyment felt like, it’s as if a woke voice says ‘Enough fun!’ before force feeding yet another politicised message. As an escape, I plan to cuddle a warm girl and smell stale perfume (consensually, of course!), before feeding ducks in the park as I wished I were far away - now, that’s entertainment.

• Brett Ellis is a teacher