Joking apart: why Boris is the man for the job

Boris Johnson has confounded his critics, says Matthew d’Ancona. The contest will go to the wire, but our man has proved himself to be both shrewd enough and serious enough to take charge

‘Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the next Mayor of London…’ A January dinner at the Dorchester in honour of Boris Johnson, and it falls to me, as one of the hosts, to introduce the Tory candidate. I look across the room at the high-rollers, hacks, friends and acquaintances who have come along to toast the candidate and, in some cases, to see if he is for real. Many are already Boris-positive; others merely Boris-curious.

Not for the first time, I appreciate the predicament that confronted Boris when he decided to run for mayor last July. I am reminded of the film-maker played by Woody Allen in Stardust Memories, whose fans say they love his movies — ‘especially the early, funny ones’. He faces the objection of the prim pundits: namely, that a man of such wit should not stand for mayor at all, as if a sense of humour were a disqualification for high office. But he must also deal with the expectation of the fans that he will import all his chatshow charisma to the race. Tonight, you can tell that the dinner guests still crave the ‘early, funny’ Boris. They want the Lord of Misrule to poke his tickling stick at Red Ken.

And this is not what is on offer: by no means. The Dorchester barman has dreamt up a new ‘Boris’ cocktail, but the man himself declines to savour its delights. He is more concerned by the noise of the air-conditioning in the dining-room, and the music that is playing in the background, and whether it will distract attention from his speech. Charming and amusing as he undoubtedly remains, the Boris on show tonight is presenting himself not as a comic insurgent, but as a serious candidate, less interested in the showbiz glamour of victory — though he undoubtedly wants that — than in doing the job itself.