This programme has won a yard long list of awards and been translated into a dozen languages. And there are two obvious reasons why – their names are LeAlan Jones and Lloyd Newman. The programme is a journey into the lives of these two self possessed youngsters who alternate their roles of reporters, occasionally sounding like lawyers (“I have no further questions” says one after interviewing his alcoholic father), and sometimes just kids.

On their first day with their mics, they scam their way into the presence of a celebrity athlete and overcome their awe enough to do an interview any rookie journo would be proud of. They interview family members and get unvarnished answers to bald questions (“mama who’s my daddy?”). Sometimes it’s the answers that leave you gasping and sometimes it’s the kids’ response to it (“where is my daddy?” “Dead I think” Pause, then in a small voice, “thank you”).

There’s no question of pitying either of these kids because as they say, they still have hope, though it’s in precious small supply in their world of early and violent death, substance abuse and madness. You can’t pity them because they don’t pity themselves. They’re tough without being hardened, decent in spite of their dangerous penchant for throwing rocks at cars off an overpass.

There are many characters and many moments that will haunt you – the one that will stay with me is LeAlan with his grandmother, a lady who’s had more than her share of grief in her life. She’s also taken responsibility for raising a handful of grandchildren. He persuades her to sing her favourite song – “One day at a time” and the old lady lets loose a voice that once must have been beautiful and now is simply extraordinary.
“She was hoarse but she still can blow” says LeAlan Jones. From the mouths of babes.

With David Isay producing this programme, it’s no surprise of course that technically the piece is a wonder. The only tiny gripe I’d have with it is that especially around the middle of the programme (around 15 minutes or so in) the bits of music dividing the scenes seemed just a shade overkill – too repetitive and jingle like. Each scene is so powerful, so deftly shadowed that they could have just stood with a short fade out and fade into the next scene.

These boys have a natural talent for interviewing and an easy mic presence that would turn professionals green with jealousy. They don’t let their interviewees get away with an untruth but they don’t heckle in any way. Their diary-like reporting flows like liquid toffee, their sweet rough voices telling their stories of pain and humour in equal balance.

Sometimes a programme comes along that makes you feel like you’ve been allowed a privileged voyeuristic insight into lives you otherwise would never have known. This is such a piece. It’s been eleven years since this programme was made – I would love to hear what’s happened to these kids since. Does LeAlan still have his wonderful infectious giggle? Has Lloyd made it away from the projects? Are they still friends? Are they still alive? But I guess that most of all, I just want to know if they managed just perhaps, to escape the destiny that was waiting for them with open jaws.