Those unfamiliar with Piers Morgan’s oeuvre might have been confused by ITV’s method of heralding his new Good Morning Britain job. The entire promotional strategy, smeared across televisions and billboards for days on end, focused exclusively on what a spectacular turd he is.
“Back by unpopular demand,” the ads screamed, setting several unrealistic expectations about Morgan’s first morning on set. How obnoxious would he actually be, you wondered? Would he spend the first 30 minutes tying Susanna Reid to a railway line? Would he roam around the studio, simultaneously reviewing the front pages and shoving children into puddles?
In the end, his introduction was stymied by current events. The situation in Brussels took precedence over Morgan’s tendency to make everything about him, and he was left to stand around like a spare part, awkwardly clutching his gut like he was waiting for the Imodium to kick in.
Slowly, however, Piers found himself slipping into his comfort zone. The formula began to coalesce after about 15 minutes, during an item about the banned Lord’s Prayer advert. Susanna Reid and Charlotte Hawkins would even-handedly introduce a story, before Morgan barged in – all mad eyes and clattering jowls – to blurt out a furious barrage of red-hot takes delivered at the very top of his lungs like a online comments section gone terrifyingly sentient. “WELL I MEAN THIS IS JUST PREPOSTEROUS ISN’T IT” he’d yell over and over again for about 45 seconds. Then he would fall silent and Reid and Hawkins would calmly carry on.
There’s a lot riding on this inter-host chemistry, you sense. And, on the basis of this morning’s episode, the seed of something quite interesting is already in place. Piers Morgan and Susanna Reid seem to mix genuine affection for each other with genuine hatred. At one point, about an hour and a half in, Susanna referred to herself as Morgan’s TV wife. “Wife?” Morgan oozed as he slipped an arm around her. “Do I get any conjugal rights?”. “Nope!” Reid yelped, frantically blinking out urgent requests for help in morse code.
But the chemistry isn’t fully calibrated yet. Morgan’s tendency towards outright hostility, combined with Reid’s endless patience, had the effect of leaving you slightly punchdrunk, as if you’d been good-cop-bad-copped to within an inch of your life.
To be fair, though, Morgan’s debut still managed to be more entertaining than every other episode of Good Morning Britain combined. Thanks to his tendency to get sacked from everything he ever does, Piers Morgan currently finds himself at a stage in his career where he has no choice but to embrace his colossal unpopularity. As a result, about 90% of his time onscreen was spent reading out abusive tweets he had been sent that morning, with a look of cartoonish faux-agony on his face. Self-indulgent, yes, but you have to admit this isn’t something you would ever find Bill Turnbull doing.
There were also moments where Morgan proved his worth as a journalist. During an early interview with shadow defence secretary Maria Eagle, he prodded and jabbed away with such gleeful ferocity that Eagle staggered out of the studio in a full-blown daze. This is where he’s going to earn his money, not by stammering his way through endless softball interviews with hiccuping children, as he was forced to do an hour later.
For all his faults, Morgan does offer something genuinely new in the cosy world of breakfast television. He’s an aggressive journalist, forged in the fires of tabloid culture, with a clear point of view and a total indifference to popular opinion. If breakfast television in 2015 is a lovely mug of hot tea, then Piers Morgan is a bucket of cold sick. It pains me to admit this, but he might be just what we need.
