TV Review: Virgin Virtuosos

Published on Wednesday 3 March 2010 18:03

Virgin Virtuosos, Sky Arts 1

SKY ARTS presenter John Myatt always begins his programmes by cheerfully reminding us that he once pulled off one of the biggest art frauds of the 20th century. But whenever he drops this bombshell, the expert forger is always quick to explain that he has done his time and gone straight, lest anyone accuse Rupert Murdoch of funding the escapades of an international criminal mastermind. Heaven forfend.

So, having turned his back on crime, the former jailbird now employs his exceptional talents as a force for good, principally through informal art programmes such as Virgin Virtuosos, in which he exercises that most noble of pursuits, teaching celebrities how to paint.

Myatt believes he can bring out the artist in anyone, plebeian and thespian alike, in just one day. He does this by flattering and encouraging his pupils in spite of their formal limitations. He's a terrific teacher, genial and supportive, with a disarming gift for bringing out the best in people. Who else but Myatt could achieve the hitherto unimaginable feat of making his latest guest, Keith Allen, look like an endearingly vulnerable schoolboy trying his best to please teacher?

Self-deprecating to a fault, Allen admitted that he was completely useless when it came to painting. This was all Myatt needed to hear as he revealed that their task for the day was to emulate Canaletto's Greenwich Hospital from the North Bank of the Thames.

Setting up their easels on the windswept riverbank, the two men gradually settled into an easy rapport. They bonded thoughtfully over their common experiences in prison (Allen spent time in Borstal and was later jailed for smashing up a nightclub), with Allen admitting, as if we needed reminding, that he has always had a problem with authority.

This prompted yet another airing of that notorious footage of him losing his temper during a Late Show discussion. This clip follows him everywhere he goes; I'm surprised they never edited it into episodes of Robin Hood. Fortunately, Myatt is such a likeable authority figure, there was little chance of him igniting Allen's rebellious streak, although if he had thrown his easel into the Thames, at least he'd have another colourful clip to include in future TV appearances.

While they painted, Myatt provided a potted history of both artist and celebrity, juxtaposing choice biographical titbits such as "Giovanni Canaletto was one of the most brilliant landscape artists of the 18th century, most famous for his views of Venice" with "Keith has been married twice and is rumoured to have eight children by different women. He now lives with an actress 20 years his junior."

Allen's painting was, by his own admission, dreadful, but after some gentle assistance from Myatt, he ended up with something which, at the very least, didn't resemble the inchoate scribblings of a madman. Allen's eventual delight with his efforts was genuine and contagious. I'd even go as far as saying that he's probably quite a sweet man underneath that boorish exterior. Or maybe that's the paint fumes talking.

Perhaps it's just that it is undeniably heartening to see someone achieve something they thought was beyond them, even if that someone is Keith Allen.

Myatt's chat-show-cum-art-lesson is, like the repentant copycat himself, an unpretentious charmer.