The killers themselves don’t actually think so, though their plan is to force Delamitri to make a penitent televised statement taking the blame for having “inspired” their brutalities. On the morning after he has received an Oscar for one of his ironic, post-modern gore fests, Delamitri finds himself held hostage in his own mansion, along with an alcoholic soon- to-be ex-wife, teenage daughter, and luscious Playboy centrefold. The sexy Southern white trash couple pointing the guns (excellent Patrick O’Kane and Dena Davis) are the Mall Murderers whose killing spree across the States has been condemned in the Press as a copycat version of the one in Delamitri’s film.
Elton’s main concern is not whether there is a direct link between violent art and life. In fact, Elton’s intelligent, funny and highly enjoyable play aims its weapons at a quite different target. Popcorn centres on a Tarantino-esque director, Bruce Delamitri (played by Vincenzo Nicoli), and it imagines a situation where his fiction is suddenly upstaged by brute fact. The ads for Popcorn, the stage version of Ben Elton’s best-selling novel, carry the warning/ come-on that “This production contains strong language and images of sex and violence.” If Popcorn were simply a comic indictment of screen violence and its desensitising effects, this ploy would seem more than a little hypocritical, a News of the World-type beckoning to the tittilations of moralising prurience. The closing sequence must have kept virtually the whole of West London awake: Elgar, Wood, Arne, Parry, with more whistles, shouts and sing-along voices than ever before – 25,000 in the park, coloured lights glimmering everywhere, massed voices on stage (the Maesteg and District Male Choir plus the Royal Choral Society) and a packed Albert Hall – the biggest-ever “Last Night” audience with millions watching or listening at home.

It was like a victory celebration and the suggestion of a possible repeat performance next year made them cheer even louder!. Beaming up to the Royal Albert Hall brought Andrew Davis on screen and a variety of projected images on to the curtain. Malcolm Arnold’s bold Rhapsody The Sound Barrier reminded us that the distance between the speakers and the rear-end of the park meant that the sound-track was fractionally out-of-sync with the video image. Still, the impact was considerable and the audio quality remarkably good. Voices came off best, with Puccini and a delicious French sequence (Offenbach and Berlioz) shared between Felicity Lott and Ann Murray, and an hilarious account of Rossini’s “Cat Duet” (not programmed) where “Miss Ann Murray” caterwauled her “resentment” at “Dame Felicity Lott”. And when, a little later, she returned with an idiomatic Broadway sequence of Gershwin, Coward and others, she met with storms of approval.
Night had fallen and, during a short interval, the stage was cleared and draped.

The Labeque Sisters pounded merry hell out a West Side Story selection, but the star of the show was the soprano Maria Ewing, whose vital, wildly over-projected singing seemed absolutely right for the occasion. Her Rosina (“Una voce poco fa”, Barber of Seville) was both sexy and strong-willed, her Tosca (“Vissi d’arte”) proud but vulnerable. At 7.30pm, writer, critic and broadcaster Sheridan Morley took over the main first- half, which was being relayed live on Radio 2 and featured the BBC Concert Orchestra under Robin Stapleton. It was a sort of up-market “Friday Night is Music Night” that opened with Bernstein’s Candide Overture then held the pace with a fairly unusual Carmen Fantasy (well-known tunes mixed in with some that aren’t) where a brilliant James Galway momentarily slipped off course in the “Gipsy Dance”. Long-term plans to share the Last Night of the Proms between the Royal Albert Hall and the open air of Hyde Park had finally been realised.

By 5.50pm Ed Stewart (of Crackerjack fame) was priming us for the first round of musical entertainment, snappy standards with the Piccadilly Dance Orchestra, some lusty singing by the Maesteg and District Male Choir and a highly entertaining sequence by the vocal group Cantabile. Luckily, autumn had granted us one of her better days – clear and warm, until evening set in and a touch of chill brought a mass of anoraks out of as many rucksacks. It might even let the ancestors of Leonard, Hiaasen and co, “murdered” at the movies one by one, rest in peace.n ‘Striptease’ is on general release from Friday. Speaker’s Corner heard a brand new tune when, beyond surging crowds, rows of fast-food trucks, makeshift stalls and a large concave auditorium flanked by huge video screens, Jean Sibelius stole the air. It was 5pm on Saturday, and as Sir Colin Davis led the European Union Youth Orchestra through the Second Symphony’s epic coda (filmed at an August Prom), Concorde roared overhead.