This week we learned that (for tax purposes) the Scottish TV presenter was in fact not Lorraine Kelly but ‘Lorraine Kelly’, a cheery version of herself, whenever she appeared onscreen. Could she also be playing the PM?

GOING anywhere nice on your holidays? I wish I was. Every time I start planning a week in Lanzarote there’s yet another delay. My client Lorraine promised me she’d only be playing Theresa May until the end of next week, then on Wednesday night she phoned to say the run’s been extended. I had to get straight online to order a kilo of Max Factor “deathly pallor” and four new wigs. I’m at my wit’s end.

At the start it seemed like the perfect gig. One client, one appointment per day, 9.40am on the dot. Aye, the latex skin is a bit of a footer to stick on, but I’ve got it down to a fine art and these days she’s in and out within the hour. When I see how long it takes Gary to transform Jamie Dornan into Jeremy Corbyn I count myself lucky! But I’m feeling the strain now. We’d bloody better be getting thanked in these Bafta acceptance speeches. I think we’ll both be quite happy if we never see another shade of grey again.

I’ve seen some negative reviews of Lorraine’s performance at the podium on Wednesday night. Everyone’s a critic, aren’t they? But you have to remember, this is a woman who’s been getting up at 5am for more than a decade, and has been walking on stilts for twelve hours a day since 2016. I know Helen Mirren’s still fizzing she didn’t get the PM part, but Lorraine told me the casting director wasn’t at all impressed with her. “Too much humanity and too much charisma,” she said. “What does she think this is, Hollywood?” She even used her own legs for the dance audition.

Can you imagine?

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Many of the political reviewers are failing to grasp the layers and nuance Lorraine is bringing to the Theresa May role, let alone the incredible versatility she’s demonstrating by playing two sharply contrasting characters every weekday – one studio-based, the other site-specific; one bubbly and relatable, the other cold and mechanical.

Yes, the so-called Prime Minister came across as dangerously delusional and dictatorial when she addressed the nation this week – claiming she is on “our side” and blaming everything on the MPs who have twice rejected her deal – but what if that is the scriptwriter’s intention? What if the story arc requires this character to do a job that’s just good enough to dodge no-confidence motions right up until now, but bad enough to ensure the UK does not leave the EU next Friday, or any subsequent date? Never mind the Baftas, or even the Oscars – Lorraine should be in line for a Nobel Peace Prize if she manages to pull this off.

The National:

Those expressing disbelief that a leader of the UK could be so awful, so arrogant, so out of touch are missing what’s right in front of them – a sensational performance that is perfectly calculated to fit the tagline of the forthcoming motion picture, May Day: “She gave it her all, but it wasn’t enough”.

Surely it must be obvious there is method in the madness? With this role of a lifetime, Lorraine is making De Niro look like a rank amateur.

Us showbusiness folk are always encouraging audiences to suspend disbelief, but there have to be some limits. I mean, do folk really imagine all of these high-profile politicians have simply abandoned their day jobs to spend weeks and months and years talking about Brexit and achieving hee-haw in the process? Don’t be daft!

Next you’ll be telling me the British public believe the Home Secretary is shagging Richard Madden and that Donald Trump is something other than an extended sketch by Owen Wilson of Zoolander and The Royal Tenenbaums fame. I know half of them believed lies on a bus, but come on.

Of course the job of learning and delivering meaningless soundbites about “red lines” and “a jobs-first Brexit” was outsourced. How were people imagining the employment figures were looking so healthy, if not for the recruitment of so many artistes who would otherwise be “resting”? The team of puppeteers operating Jacob Rees-Mogg haven’t been this busy since Being John Malkovich, and that was 20 years ago.

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I’ll be relieved when it’s all over, but I won’t pretend this Brexit cul-de-suc hasn’t been a boon for the British creative sector, filling the void that was left when the last Harry Potter film wrapped.

You’d think at least the journalists would have figured out what’s going on, seeing as they get close enough to our “elected representatives” to see the wig lace and smell the grease paint (Chiwetel Ejiofor looks nothing like Chuka Umunna, even with the stick-on beard removed) but apparently they are as deluded as everyone else.

Little did Kay Burley know that when she accused “Ian Blackford” of mansplaining this week she was actually addressing his understudy Karen Gillan, who crouches inside a hyper-realistic body form pulling strings and speaking through a voice distorter on those increasingly frequent occasions when the real Ian Blackford is lying in a dark room suffering from a rage-induced migraine.

Unless of course Kay Burley herself is actually Piers Morgan in a wig and blusher, dashing between TV stations in his determination to bellow at left-wingers, promote a no-deal Brexit and undermine legitimate feminist arguments.

These days it feels like anything’s possible – maybe even the withdrawal of Article 50. So will Lorraine stick to the script, or start ad libbing? Stay tuned to find out!