People ask me all the time: What’s it like to stand just to the side of history, one step away from greatness? Well, it’s a thrill! I’ve been working as an ass double for six years now, mostly unpaid and sometimes unknowingly, and my caboose has been utilised as a looky-likey for some of the most famous tushies in Showbusiness, from Ethan Hawke to Mary Beard. I even filled in for Eddie Redmayne’s backside when he came down with a severe case of seat rash while filming The Theory of Everything.
Recently, I was granted the honour of doubling for Sir Keir Starmer, Leader of the Opposition. Too much time spent in the tanning salon and bleaching chamber had meant that Sir Keir’s face and ass could no longer be convincingly intercut on television. This paid gig seemed to be for an upcoming Labour Party commercial, and so I hurried down to Sir Keir’s home studio in sunny Southend-on-Sea, my hindquarters itching to get to work. We had a packed schedule, and filming was intense. We had to cram 6 scenes into the day, but the crew had evidently shot thousands of these, and Sir Keir, despite some reservations about performing on a waterbed, was a consummate professional.
During a cigar break, I finally got the chance to talk shop with the star performer himself. I asked him whether, despite his recent address to the Party Conference polling higher than that of Boris Johnson’s, he was bothered by calls that Labour is sliding alarmingly to the right. He chuckled and adjusted his towell. “Look, if it weren’t for Tony Blair, where would we be? We’d all be speaking Iraqi right now.” A little taken aback by his defiant brusqueness, I followed up with a soft-ball question about Britain’s role and responsibilities in a fractured, post-Brexit world. “There are 8 billion people on this planet, if you count Chinese people,” he says, “you can’t please all of them. In fact, you shouldn’t try too hard to please any of them.” I sat quietly for a moment, nourished by his common wisdom. Perhaps these are the hard truths our battered nation needs to pull together. Suddenly my conversation with Sir Keir was interrupted by a call from his son, Oranthal. It was his son’s birthday and he excused himself to enjoy a sliver of family time.
The rest of the day was hectic, but us Showbusiness types enjoy nothing more than a day of sweat and grind. My keyster really received a workout, but I pulled through thinking about the warm shower I would treat myself to later. We wrapped our scenes up well in time and as the crew were packing up I sought out Sir Keir to thank him for a rewarding, enlightening day of work. He was gracious, thanked me for being a sport and wished me and my reddened posterior all the best. I noticed then that he had some letters tattooed on his knuckles, and I squinted to make out the words. My one final question to Sir Keir: what does “Arbeit Macht Frei” mean?
Looking back, I don’t think that was really Sir Keir Starmer. He never said his name, and I didn’t think to ask. Lesson learned: Assumptions make an ass out of you and me! Thinking about it, I’m pretty sure the actual Sir Keir doesn't have a hook hand. Nevertheless, I had fun! You can find the latest Labour Party broadcast in certain video stores. My scene comes right after the one in which Angela Rayner catches Ed Balls getting changed, then John McDonnell follows them both into the bathroom. During most of my scenes my face was pressed into a pillow but see if you can spot my glorious derriere!