Mark Andrews: Indiana Jones was a TV turn-off, and questions about whether the PM understands the private sector

It was a kind gesture of Sir Keir Starmer to put on a Christmas dinner for invite 93 public sector workers to Downing Street for an early Christmas dinner. They were all due to be working on Christmas Day, and he wanted to thank them for their contribution. 

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But did it really have to be exclusively for public sector workers? What about the lorry drivers, care-home workers, hospital contract cleaners who also did their bit on Christmas day? Then there's the small matter of the farmers, pub landlords and hospitality staff, although one can see that the PM might get a frosty reception from them.

Maybe Sir Keir felt that, as their ultimate boss, he wanted to thank workers on the government payroll. Fair enough. But the problem is, the PM always gives out the impression that he somehow considers public-sector work more noble than that in the rather vulgar, dirty world of the private sector. That he thinks the public sector is filled with caring, kindly people who devote their lives to helping others, while those in the private sector are a bunch of avaricious chancers mostly concerned with the pursuit of profit.

Which probably explains why not one member of his cabinet has any experience of running a private sector business. And why his promises of funding better public services by turbocharging economic growth have yielded so little fruit.

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And what is it with all these Christmas messages from politicians? The King's address to the nation is a national institution, and at a push I can perhaps stomach a non-political message from the Prime Minister. But now they're all at it, emoting from the heart, even that weird hypnotist bloke from the Green Party had a crack at it. 

I don't suppose it occurred to any of them that Christmas is perhaps the one time of year that we would like a break from them?

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It's never too late to try something new, they say. So over Christmas, some 44 years after it was first screened in the cinema, I finally got round to seeing my first Indiana Jones film, Raiders of the Lost Ark. And what a load of rubbish it was. 

For someone who regularly contends that the 1980s was as good as life ever got, and that we have been living in a state of economic, cultural and moral decline ever since, it was quite an eye opener. I could forgive the hammy acting and silly stunts - I'm a fan of The Saint and The Avengers - had there been any point to the story. But there wasn't. It wasn't the rope tricks, snake scaring or stunt driving that saved the day, it was the contents of the box that killed the baddies. 

So why did I sit through almost two hours of dross? Well the sad thing is, it was still better than anything else on mainstream television.