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THE Malcolm Turnbull Show - aka, Q&A - continues a long and glorious tradition in Australian late-night television.
Older viewers will recall The Graham Kennedy Show in the 1970s, the heir to In Melbourne Tonight and predecessor to The Don Lane Show, in which on several infamous occasions the host squawked his imitation of a crow call - "Faarrrrrrk" - and walked away whistling, as if no one would know what he really meant.
In modern political terms, Malcolm Turnbull has the Kennedy crow call down pat.
He didn't quite scream "Faarrrrrrk" at the situation the Abbott government finds itself in during Monday night's Q&A, but we all knew what he meant as he confronted a needy world with concern and gravitas, opening the batting with an address straight down the barrel of the camera in a manner suggesting he might want to lay off those West Wing binges on long weekends at the farm.
"Perhaps if I can address this to the Indonesian government," President Turnbull suggested to Tony Jones, whose camera crew was evidently prepared for the Address to Another Nation to follow.
This was Turbo Turnbull. He'd left the leather jacket at home, but loins were otherwise girded for the challenge - such as it was - and no moment was left behind in the endeavour to remind a grateful nation that he was not That Other Bloke. Or indeed, Any Other Bloke, or Any Other Woman. He was, like Kevin Rudd in another life, just Malcolm from Point Piper. And he was here to help.
"The strength of mercy," was his pitch to the Indonesian government, though not to the Liberal party room, a body one sensed he hoped would show less of this quality when assessing the relative merits of his good self and whoever it was had gotten the country into this terrible mess.
"Let me just say this to you ..." was another Turnbull opening gambit, delivered with the menace of a man about to serve you Hawaiian pizza and tell you it's a fruit salad.
With modest deference, Malcolm demurred when asked to explain the decision to dump Philip Ruddock as party whip. Malcolm knows not of the whip, but he is familiar with the lazy chainsaw: "It was Tony's call. He's the one who has to explain it."
Tony, for those unfamiliar with Malcolm's invisible foil, is Tony Abbott, a prime minister and a man considerably less familiar with the ABC panel show known to others as I'm A Prime Minister, Get Me Out Of Here.
Malcolm knows the environs well, and knows the rules of the Q&A Tucker Challenge - see an ankle, you bite it, discreetly. See a captain, sink his ship, then run. Tony is Malcolm's captain, to wit: "He's the captain, he can make a captain's call."
Regular political observers will note that "a captain's call" is best translated as the sound made by a very noisy bird, or "faarrrrrrk".
There were, in case you blinked and missed them, other panellists on Monday's show.
There was Bryan Stevenson, an American anti-capital punishment campaigner who was enlightening when he was on but who must have wondered why he bothered.
There was Labor's Catherine King, shadow health minister, whose declaration that both sides of politics needed to take a long, hard look at themselves suggested she may not be long for this political world.
And Lisa Wilkinson, the Today host, whose persistent grace and intelligence leaves you wondering how she survives as a player in either media or politics.
Greg Sheridan, columnist for The Australian and former classmate of the prime minister, was on hand to remind the PM that it wasn't just Malcolm eyeing him with something less than enthusiasm. He restrained from emitting a crow call in an audible manner, but we got the gist.
Question of the night went to the woman who wondered about the dire state of political leadership and mused of a successor to the current occupant of the PM's office: "Is that person in this room?"
"Tempting though it is to venture into this minefield …" offered President Turnbull, indicating nothing could be further from his mind.
He had more where that came from, admonishing Tony Jones on "the absurdity of your querulousness" - a glorious Malcolm moment that didn't make much sense, but which had the country and probably much of the Liberal party room wishing he'd stick to the basic crow call and just get on with it.
