LISTER at large

How I `outed' the Heritage Minister

when he stayed home

I HAVE to confess to "outing" the National Heritage Secretary, Stephen Dorrell. It was not, I stress, blackmail, just an invitation to him to come clean and declare his personal preferences. It happened in a corridor at the House of Commons just before he was to give evidence to the select committee on the film industry. I asked him if he enjoyed the movies, and he, bravely or shamelessly, depending on your point of view, admitted that he couldn't remember the name of the last film he had seen.

A Press Association journalist nearby overheard this and Mr Dorrell's secret was out. He was a "non-attender", the ultimate perversion in the arts world, the one unforgiveable sin. Since then Mr Dorrell's non-attendance at theatre, ballet, music and opera have been paraded in the gutter press, even his non-watching of television in the privacy of his own home. And, rightly, it has been suggested that this habitual non-attender should not be left in charge of the nation's culture.

But as the man who inadvertently did the "outing", I have become a bit alarmed at the wave of bigotry now unleashed against him. Certainly aspects of Mr Dorrell's non-attendance are extreme - I gather that a recent visit to the National Theatre was his first, an extraordinary omission for a cultivated man in his forties - but I am not convinced that any of this disqualifies him from office.

Others clearly disagree. Even fellow Tory Sir John Gorst says that Mr Dorrell should eschew turning up in the Commons for vital votes and go instead to first nights, "at the business end of his portfolio".

It is diverting to imagine John Major's expression on being told that he lost a confidence motion by one vote because Stephen Dorrell was at Copacabana. But I suspect Sir John and other Dorrell detractors are wrong on this point. Without venturing into a theatre, cinema or opera house, Dorrell managed to secure a larger increase from the Treasury last autumn than some of his predecessors, virile luvvies all. His experience in Treasury bartering was probably of more use than a host of first nights.

Of course it would be nice if the minister responsible for the arts was actually keen on the arts. But I suspect that he would be no use to anybody if he attended all the first nights in his extensive arts, sport, media and tourism portfolio. He would be in perpetual motion travelling from concert hall to football match to cricket to lacrosse, with the video recorder at home keeping him up to date with the soaps.

Much better than going to first nights, he should sit in the ministry and become the first heritage secretary or arts minister to draw up a national arts strategy. He could turn non-attendance into an art form.

A cut above the rest

SIR DAVID PUTTNAM tells me he is off to India shortly to produce a 13-part adaptation for Channel 4 of Vikram Seth's vast 1400-page prize- winning novel, A Suitable Boy. All of it will be made on location in India with an Indian cast. To Seth's outrage this was the book that Lord Gowrie, when chairman of the Booker judges, said should have been brought to him for editing. When I asked Sir David if he foresaw any problems in having to cut chunks, he gave a reply which might not only shame Gowrie but even surprise Seth. "Actually," he said, "not only won't we be cutting, we intend to add some material."

Your funeral, Prime Minister

STEPHEN DORRELL may not have seen Four Weddings and a Funeral, but the Prime Minister seems to know all about it. At his reception for the arts at Number 10 he was engrossed with Hugh Grant and quite monopolised him. Indeed, one woman strove in vain to get the PM's attention before muttering indignantly to a friend, "I see I'm no longer flavour of the month". Memo to John Major: her name's Shirley Bassey, chanteuse, unused to being ignored, and probably a more interesting conversationalist than Hugh Grant.