Oxford’s curveball interview questions are a great leveller

http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/oct/13/oxford-university-questions-brian-blessed

Version 0 of 1.

The course of our lives often hinges on a word. Often, it’s “yes” or “no”. Sometimes it’s stranger. I remember a court case in Newcastle a few years ago. A couple’s sex game had appeared to go wrong; jury discussions mostly concerned whether, in the throes of passion, one might plausibly mishear their safe word – which was “toast”.

Mine is “clumpy” (key word, not safe word). The details are foggy, but some sort of vaguely acceptable response to a question about why it might be an effective adjective through the ages is, without doubt, what got me into Oxford.

The newly released set of sample questions lobbed by admissions tutors (Do bankers deserve bonuses? Why are Welsh people bad at remembering phone numbers?) has met with some grumbling. Small wonder: private schools are commercial enterprises whose sell is to best prepare pupils for such interviews. If they’re so unpredictable, why pay?

But I love the curveball principle. It is a great leveller, not only in terms of class, but priority too. Just because you might have been offered the chance to study Ovid, it doesn’t mean you would opt to. And also because life now consists of navigating the random. Scholarship is still important, recall less so. When so much information is available instantly, it is interpretation that must be considered most crucial.

My blessings for Blessed

The appeal of Brian Blessed is easy: everywhere he goes, he sucks marrow. He is panto made flesh. He makes the everyday extraordinary. He can’t take a walk in a park without gnawing through an umbilical cord and licking clean the face of a newborn. Imagine what a full-blown hike must be like.

Few organisations will feel more vindicated by the general outpouring of love for him this past week than Medway county council. Two years ago, it attracted considerable criticism for paying Blessed £4,000 to tape the voiceover for its open-top bus.

But such a decision was actually inspired. Medway has many knockout sights – Chatham dockyards, Upnor castle, Rochester’s whopping cathedral – of which the tour affords fantastic views. But there are also longueurs: a wiggle round a Gillingham industrial estate whose delights reveal themselves only on really dedicated inspection. On a wet and windy day, having Blessed’s enthusiasm roaring in your ears isn’t just worth it – it is essential.

Turner’s blurring effect

Another Kent council’s decision was proved correct – to me, at least – this week on a trip to Margate. A decade ago spending £24m on a modern art gallery felt obscene. Margate is not a wealthy place, and the new gallery spoils the very view Turner loved. Yet four years on, the effect is undeniable. There are three high-end Danish furniture stores, a million little galleries selling not-horrible paintings, posh lobster caffs, and endless vintage boutiques and hobo emporiums. The regeneration has worked. Well, sort of. What’s odd about parachuting in scores of shops that celebrate the singular is that they all sort of blur into one.

Movies and shakers

Film-makers tend to hate journalists. Yet not only have many of them nursed early journalistic ambition, some still dabble, through their movies. This week sees the release of Stephen Frears’ Lance Armstrong film, a highly engaged ode to the sports reporter who exposed him. Two major Oscar contenders – Truth and Spotlight – amplify the work of investigative reporters. Even Leonardo DiCaprio – a man yet more ambivalent about the press than his peers – is in on the act, announcing a film about how the lid was lifted on the VW emissions scandal. Yet this story differs in one crucial way: its hero is not a reporter, for none was key to the leak. Instead it is a man named John, who heads a small nonprofit called the International Council on Clean Transportation.

Related: Oxford University admissions interview questions – and answers – revealed