Tomorrow's News.

Our appetite for news is insatiable. No matter how juicy, exclusive or breaking it is, we are never satisfied. The spoof newscast ‘Tomorrow’s News’ mocks our impatience. The following contains a lot of spoilers for the first episode, but I know you’re too addicted to the media to stop reading...

The satirical radio show felt like a stopgap in my daily media consumption. Bringing ‘the news tomorrow, today’, it’ll leave you wondering whether you can ever be up-to-date with the headlines. Our constant desire for the next-big-thing was made sport of by the coverage of the newest model of music, ‘Music2’. Parodying the Apple launch tradition, Tomorrow’s News interviewed some of the first customers, with delightful effects. But the show also made jibes at current scandals being fought out in our national press. The coverage of a Charlie and the Chocolate Factory esque Golden Ticket system to solve the recent free school meal scandal was ridiculous. The fact our government cannot provide basic meal provision is more ridiculous. So if you can’t laugh along with Tomorrow’s News, you’ll find yourself crying at today’s.

“If you can’t laugh along with Tomorrow’s News, you’ll find yourself crying at today’s.”

As we’re well aware, an abundance of news specialises in the dramatic (hello tabloids). Click-driven media privileges the absurd, which is exactly what Tomorrow’s News played upon. The correspondent reporting on Biden’s inauguration told the truth: it was tranquil and uneventful. The suggestion that journalists were disappointed by its peace was perhaps more truthful. In a moment of guilty-indulgence, our correspondent admits that maybe she was slightly disappointed by the lack of drama in Washington. It is unimaginable that any journalist would suggest this. Perhaps it’s not so unimaginable that they may privately think it. Our correspondents also lamented Trump’s social media bans. Most of us are currently questioning the implication of this for free speech; Tomorrow’s News was questioning how the media would cope without the drama. Grabbing headlines and clickbait may have given its readers a false appetite. We’re not seriously disappointed there hasn’t been a repeat of the storming of Congress, are we?

“Tomorrow’s News stayed with me for longer than this morning’s headlines and certainly left me feeling a lot better after I’d indulged.”


READ MORE

Mountain View

[BLANK] is complex and expressive, but falls short in its experimentation

Somehow the show challenged our current affairs with even more farcical scenarios. Priti Patel’s feature almost had me in tears. A modulated devil voice mimicked the Home Secretary and boasted the use of the Titanic-sinking iceberg in the handling of refugee ships. It was hysterical, and it’s equally tear-jerking as you dwell on the reality of that one. These absurd moments in the show will stay on your subconscious long after you’ve stopped laughing. The program was disrupted by a more light-hearted advert for ‘I cheated on my wife.com’. I feel as if the name says it all. Initially, this segment felt immature. But sandwiching the sophomoric between satire was a welcome break. It’s a reminder that these issues are serious, but we need not be sombre in our handling of them. Tomorrow’s News stayed with me for longer than this morning’s headlines and certainly left me feeling a lot better after I’d indulged.

Boasting numerous writers and actors, you feel as if you could be tuning in to a bustling newsroom. I also thoroughly enjoyed Thomas Field’s soundtrack – it provides the verisimilitude that makes the absurdity even funnier. Jasper Cresdee-Hyde, one of the Showmakers, has also written an insight into his experience creating the show here. I think he’s right to suggest that the show caters to a range of humours. The beauty of a radio format is that, no matter your taste, you’ll get to sample the variety as you listen.

Even though the show makes a mockery of my media addiction, I cannot recommend it enough. So if you’ve already missed Tomorrow’s News, you better catch-up.