Talk to the hand

It's strange how many things, aimed ostensibly at children, seem to creep out such a big proportion of adults. Clowns, for example, are considered pretty unnerving by many people, despite the fact that they're meant to be figures of fun for kids. The medieval harlequin is damn scary, with its manic grin and crazy hat. And marionettes can make the skin crawl, all jerky movements and ugly, exaggerated features.

Personally, though, I've always been most freaked out by ventriloquist dummies.

Children's entertainment, my foot; the way their hinged mouths chomp up and down is absolutely horrible, compounded by those boggly eyes and swivelling head. Not to mention the fact that there's a guy next to the puppet, talking without moving his lips and shoving his hand where hands were not meant to go.

Speaking From the Belly(BBC Radio 4, Tuesday 11.30am) attempted to put a brighter face on this spooky art by talking to several ventriloquists. Presented by Nina Conti, daughter of actor Tom, it certainly shed new light on the subject, with Conti an engaging, inquisitive presence.

But – and maybe this is just my own neurosis coming through – it didn't quite convince me where the attraction lies here. I still don't really know what possesses someone to devote their time and energy to ventriloquism, bar the usual, vaguely meaningless declarations of interest or passion in the craft. And I certainly won't be toddling down to the theatre the next time Chucky the Killer Doll or one of his pals is playing a show.

Speaking of neuroses, Kenneth Williams of Carry On fame was less of a proper human being than a veritable bundle of the things. In the fascinating The Private World of Kenneth Williams (BBC Radio 4, Sunday 8.30pm), his diaries revealed the gifted comic actor to be massively insecure, panicky, vain and pessimistic, deeply troubled by all manner of demons.

His death is widely presumed to have been suicide, and listening to his own thoughts on life, it's easy to see why. Everything was a disappointment for Williams: he wanted more respect as a "proper" actor, he felt lonely and unloved, he famously wondered, "Oh, what's the bloody point?"

The man was such a stereotype of the tortured soul behind the comic mask that he seems almost two-dimensional, which is both ironic and oddly appropriate for someone who earned his fame playing the fool in broad comedies. Williams once declared madness to be "the ultimate refuge of the over-sensitive", and ultimately, that's what he was: a precious, overly self-regarding, but fundamentally decent, man.

His life story was made for radio, at any rate: an anonymous actor perfectly captured that lilting, faux-supercilious accent, and one felt almost privy to something intimate and personal, like hearing the unfettered confessions of a friend.

Last week I criticised Pat Kenny for his depressing infatuation with shallow celebrity; this week he showed his better qualities in a well-handled interview with black American figurehead, the Reverend Jesse Jackson, on Today withÖ (Monday-Friday 10am). Jackson has become celebrated – some would say notorious – for his confrontational, sometimes incendiary brand of politics, and he certainly had plenty to say here.

Bush, the soi-disant "war on terror" and the negation of people's rights, both in the US and further afield, were all on the receiving end of Jackson's sharp tongue, the precision and conviction of his words in pleasing contrast to the drawling, heavily-accented delivery. Kenny kept the interview moving briskly, not letting the subject get side-tracked, and drew an interesting observation from Jackson on Ireland's position in this brave new pre-emptive world.

While not unethical, he argued, the Government decision to allow Shannon be used for military flights has made us a legitimate target in the eyes of Islamic terrorist groups. That might give Bertie and colleagues some pause for thought.

Still, couldn't jeopardise all that lovely multinational investment, could we?

Finally, a quick mention of one of the best music shows on air at the moment.

Mention world music to most people and they think of melancholy wailing noises from indiscriminate Middle Eastern countries, Paul Simon messing about in South Africa or, worst of all, those tuneless "fusion" acts which seem to exist solely to appear at arts festivals. Well, that's what I think of, anyway.

But Reels to Ragas (Lyric FM, Sunday 6pm) is a world music programme that's a joy. Presenter Gerry Godley has an impossibly broad musical knowledge, bringing the listener on an eclectic, electric global tour of styles and sounds. And no Paul Simon, guaranteed.

DARRAGH MCMANUS