“Barry and I worked together for over seven years and whenever you threatened him over the air, man he would stick it right back in your face. It was like his dick was flapping in the wind and he’d like to see if he could get an erection. The guy had a little dick but he liked to flap it out there. Then they cut it off, so now he’s dead. I don’t know if you understand my analogy but it’s clearest one I can make”.

We live in a world where everybody can give an opinion whenever they want. Prime example; you’re reading a review from some random guy who likes films. With the modern advent of social media, along with all the other current forms of media in our world, it’s now easier than ever to pass your comment on whatever matter and to all extensive purposes – get away with it, unless of course you’re a celebrity of some kind, where your every word goes under intense scrutiny. In that sense it’s quite hard to imagine the world of Oliver Stone and Eric Bogosian’s  1988 frantic drama-comedy Talk Radio. A world where people tune in late at night to hear one voice, the voice of Barry Champlain on his talk radio show ‘Night talk (with Barry Champlain)’. Shot over the course of four weeks in a Dallas warehouse that was completely converted into a fully equipped radio station and based on Bogosian’s 1987 Pulitzer prize finalist play, based from a concept of his and Ted Savinar’s, Talk Radio works off of the premise of the story of Barry Champlain, a Dallas area shock jock dealing with the possibility of the radio show’s national syndication, aswell as the overwhelming threat of multiple death threats. Bogosian makes his theatrical feature film debut in the film and blows us away in every scene with his ferociously verbose delivery of his own didactic and entertaining dialogue. It has been since commented that Stone and Bogosian had several creative difference regarding the development of the screenplay, even during production. There’s no official comments from either party at where this friction came to a head, but all in all it is fair to say that the final product we ended up with was ultimately a marvellous adaptation and expanding of Bogosian’s original text.

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The supporting cast is rounded out by some wonderful character actors bringing us into the world of Champlain beyond the radio station. This leads to the biggest changes from the play to the film, with Ellen Greene appearing as Barry’s ex-wife, also named Ellen. Greene is barely recognisable from her squeaky voiced Audrey from her most famous role in Little Shop of Horrors, but is no less wonderful as another scorned woman in Champlain’s life. The current woman in Champlain’s life is Leslie Hope’s Laura who epitomises the girl that has walked into his life, fallen head over heels and doesn’t know where she stands. John C. McGinley, Stone’s most frequent collaborator, also reprises his stage role, as Stu, Champlain’s long-time assistant and maybe the strongest relationship in Champlain’s life. Michael Wincott also reprises his stage role as the boisterous rebel special guest Kent, who worms his way onto Night Talk to spread some attempt at anarchy. Alec Baldwin is the second billing star and appears as a manager of the show, trying as hard as he can to get Champlain onto national syndication. Baldwin is marvellous as he usually is, playing the jobsworth piece of work that we have seen him play many times before, this isn’t his best iteration of this figure, but’s it’s another very enjoyable role and a great addition to his filmic ouvre of assholes. Baldwin however explained in his autobiography, Nevertheless, that he truly despised his experience on the film, particularly focussing on his dislike for Stone, describing him fiercely as a “Machiavellian filmmaker who would throw his own mother down a flight of stairs if it would help him get his project financed, get the shot he wanted, or simply get his way”. Not a great opinion of our director, I think it’s fairly fair to say.

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Loosely based upon the real life murder of talk radio star Alec Berg in 1984, at the hands of murderous white supremacists. Aswell as basing certain factors of the performance upon the talk show’s of Tom Leykis, from his Los Angeles station KFI. The film was ultimately released around four years after Berg’s death. At one point in the film Bogosian adapts one of Berg’s most famous quotes; “Talk radio is like Russian roulette. When you press that button, you don’t know what will happen”. The film follows two nights with Champlain, the second featuring a complete breakdown where Bogosian relays an incredibly powerful monologue, spouting obscenity after obscenity intertwined with biting social-political dialogue, attacking and confronting everybody under the sun it seems. But we quickly come to learn as the diatribe grows it’s focus, that we are being talked to as the audience. We have been listening to Champlain for the past two hours and in many ways we have even come to like him. But we love when he’s mean. We love when he speaks truths. We love it and we devour it and we even relish when he gets close to danger, by rebutting racists and anti-Semites with his perfectly eloquent and profane spoken prose. We then of course are shocked to no end when the final card is turned and Champlain is gunned down so brutally quickly, so suddenly. With harsh edits and brutal flashes of light, we struggle to catch our breath. But it is of course the only fate available to our poor shock jock. Whether we know the real life influence of Berg’s murder or not, we can feel a terrible dread seeping into the film at all times, even when it’s at its most humorous. After the death, Bogosian’s head suddenly glows with light, before we pan up to a radio tower, paired with comments from call in’s discussing the brutal murder, culminating in the hilarious comments of Stu, that I used to open this piece. This final montage ultimately leads to Champlain  becoming a messianic figure for the outspoken liberals of the world, for the wickedly profane, for anybody who feels like their voice isn’t heard. In this sense I’m surprised that Talk Radio hasn’t had a second life in the era we live in today, with the Alex Jones of the world. Of course Champlain is our hero because he does have liberal views and because he takes such glee in rebutting monstrous bigots, so he naturally doesn’t fit into the small minded view of the bigots that may watch the film. Hell, if you’re a bigot, watch this film and maybe some of Bogosian’s comments may change your mind. Hopefully.

“I guess... we’re stuck with each other. This is Barry Camplain”

-          - Thomas Carruthers