And the winners are ... the politicians. We’re the losers

WE have been assured the Anglo prom-note deal is an unsinkable “ship” that has left “port” — let’s hope it is not the Titanic leaving Cobh, heading for an iceberg.

This column received a frosty look when it put just that analogy to the Taoiseach. But perhaps Edna Kenny’s angry glare was because he had a momentary movie flash-forward to an image of himself as the abandoned blonde in the freezing waters, drifting away on a piece of old wardrobe, amid the wreckage, as Michael Noonan ducks beneath the waves to the tune of a reworking of the Celine Dion dirge: ‘My Debt Will Go On’.

With Oscar weekend upon us once more, the self-loving, back-slapping by ministers over the Anglo-prom note move has almost rivalled Hollywood in its political onanism.

Then, along pops European Central Bank boss, Mario Draghi, to stop the premature after-party in its tracks, with his deliberately ambiguous remarks on the viability of the Anglo deal. He immediately plunged a feel good plotline into a cliff-hanger/horror film of epic proportions.

Indeed, movie metaphors could easily cling to the Government, as we focus our attention on the shiny, little bald fellow — Oscar, of course, not Mr Noonan.

Clearly, if the Coalition’s Programme for Government — with its pledges to transform Irish democracy and end stroke politics, and its Lincolnesque ideals to set the people free from dodgy bank deals — was to be turned into a film it would have to be a remake of Pulp Fiction.

Let’s not forget the outrageous comedy of Fianna Fáil being confirmed by two opinion polls as the most popular party in the country.

The plot of The Hangover fits the FF-ers to a T. The gang wakes up dazed and confused in a mass destruction of their own making, and some of them are missing (most of the parliamentary party, in fact).

Slowly, they piece together the events that led them to this squalid low as, after, initially — and conveniently — forgetting everything, they remember the wild party they threw for their buddies, which left a trail of despair and chaos all around them.

But the FF-ers did not care. They were nice and tight in their own, golden circle and living high, maxing out someone else’s credit card.

Unfortunately, that credit card belonged to me and you, and they, literally, urinated it up against a wall and then fell about laughing at our expense.

In the film, they even wake-up with an angry (Celtic) tiger, which they have lost control of, and which then turns on them in ferocious anger. Spooky.

Fianna Fáil are topping the polls once more, so it looks like Hangover 2 is coming down the tracks. And, as everyone who saw the disappointing, unfunny, sequel to the Hollywood version knows, it is just the same plot, with the same cast, set a couple of years later.

But who is up for the awards tomorrow (Sunday)?

Labour’s deputy leader, Joan Burton — given her repeated protestations that she has no intention of toppling her under-performing boss, Eamon Gilmore — must be a shoe-in for ‘best actress in a supporting role’.

When Ms Burton does the inevitable and seeks the lead in Labour’s often tragi-comedy, it could merge two of the narratives up for gongs at the Oscars in an interesting, hybrid noir.

The sheer, raw energy of Joan-Go Unchained would make Quentin Tarantino’s blood-bath fight-fest look like a Pixar children’s flick by comparison.

And, to oust Mr Gilmore, Ms Burton could ape the plot of Argo. In the Ben Affleck film, those branded capitalist stooges help smuggle hostages out of Iran during the revolution. Ms Burton could argue, via Argo, that Mr Gilmore has become an austerity stooge and is guilty of smuggling Labour principles out of the country during a right-wing take-over.

‘Best adaptation from a foreign language’ is always a tricky award to predict, but, this year, Independent TD Mattie McGrath should have a clear run at it.

Suddenly promoted to rotating voice of the technical group, he now takes part in leaders’ questions, and while his accent is not so much the problem, it is the often bizarre stream of consciousness exploding from his mouth, at scatter-gun speed, that makes observers wonder if they are, indeed, listening to the English language at all.

For the second time, he returned to Croke Park and garda pay, this week, but, as with his last intervention, events took an unusual twist, as, once again, he concentrated on inadequate toilet facilities within garda stations, for no apparent reason.

This revelation was followed by: “To make matters worse, we have heard of detectives leaving the scene of a crime, because they have had to return to the garda station to have their sandwiches.”

Whatever is going on in the Tipperary police force, it is screaming out for a TV spin-off — CSI: O’Brien’s.

Though once banned from speaking on TV, Gerry ‘Army Council? What Army Council?’ Adams is more than making up for that imposed silence, via his role in a reworking of Ted.

In the Hollywood gonzo comedy, Ted, Mark Wahlberg plays a man unwilling to get rid of his past, clinging onto it in the shape of a foul-mouthed, beer-swilling, not very cuddly toy.

Mr Adams’ version of Ted — as trailed endlessly on his Twitter feed — shows a man desperate to get rid of his past and invent a new, cuddly version of himself by constant, and rather odd, references to taking a bath with a rubber duck and playing with teddy bears who are in a same-sex relationship,

Simon Coveney may also be up for a ‘life-time achievement’ award for his role in The Horse (Meat) Whisperer, which has so far seen him evade capture in the mystery of why his officials kept so quiet about the food scandal for a month, before telling him — and, via him, us, the consumers.

But Mr Draghi remains executive producer of Ireland’s future productions, and if he turns the Anglo drama into Skyfall, it casts all of us into the wretched crowd scenes of Les Miserables.

However, Mr Kenny will not be singing in that role — he’ll be crying more buckets of tears than Gwyneth Paltrow at an Oscar acceptance speech.