No mirror image of newspaper life

To film-makers, the world of newspapers has always seemed to resemble the Holy Grail, or the search for the lost city of Atlantis - a strange, mythical, highly desirable place they would love to explore.

Perhaps it's the tales of tears mixing with the printers' ink as human tragedies are unearthed, or the ruthless determination of reporters who will do anything to bring in a "scoop".

Or, is it the more earthy accounts of a band of bed-hopping, brawling and boozing misfits who - unbelievably - have the power to make or break governments.

Whatever the reasons, down the years film-makers have tried to pull off the perfect newspaper flick with almost as much regularity as the Conservative Party looks for a new leader. Unfortunately, the latest attempt to hit the screens, Rag Tale, is the Iain Duncan Smith of the bunch.

Set in the supposedly grubby offices of a downmarket newspaper called The Rag, Mary McGuckian's film is billed as "a contemporary and controversial urban satire set in the ruthless world of British tabloids". It's the classic stereotypical interpretation, with uncouth swearing louts, sex-obsessed harpies and everyone gleefully wreaking hell and damnation on anyone they take a disliking to.

I've been a reporter on the Sunday Mirror and held executive positions on The Sun, News of the World and the Daily Mirror and I can assure you this depiction is about as believable as a Network Rail timetable.

Interest may have been whipped up by the suggestion that key roles are modelled on real-life characters, but professionals such as Kelvin MacKenzie, Piers Morgan or Stuart Higgins, no strangers to the courts (and I've worked with them all), will get very rich if the film-makers are dumb enough to try to name names.

Take the preposterous plotline which spans a week in the life of a tabloid. It would disgrace The Beano, let alone a supposed hybrid of The Sun and Mirror. Briefly, the editor (Rupert Graves) is having an affair with the proprietor's wife, Jennifer Jason Leigh (who is also the deputy editor). He gets found out by the boss (Malcolm McDowell), is fired and then hatches a sting so far-fetched it beggars belief.

Tabloid newsrooms, and goodness knows I've spent a large part of my working life in them, are like many other places of business. Great chunks of monotonous chores are very occasionally broken up with the perverse rush of excitement provided by a big story breaking.

In the real world, the proprietor is too consumed with plotting the downfall of his enemies or worrying about the upkeep of his yachts to meddle endlessly in story selection.