Leaders' debate: For the audience it's a laugh - at politicians' expense

They are an inscrutable lot, those undecided voters. There they sit, waiting for the politicians' pearls, without giving away a hint of what they think.

They laugh sometimes, but there is little harrumphing of disgust, just fingers quietly spinning their damage on dials.

"Keep your hands on your 'Reactors'," the stage manager has told them sternly.

They daren't disobey, which makes it hard to clap.

She's already yelled at cellphone users, people walking through doors and John Campbell, who laughs and tells them he has to put up with such strop every night.

The politicians sit at desks in the Auckland Grammar School library, nervously poring over notes and chatting with advisers. Jeanette Fitzsimons is sucking on an OJ.

"Winston's got his bottle of whisky," someone jokes.

Rodney Hide says he had a lovely cup of tea. It comes back to bite him when he needs a lavatory and, in a boys' school, can find only a ladies.

Helen Clark arrives with just 15 minutes to go. There are advantages to living in the electorate next to where a debate is held. More time to do your make-up, apparently.

The audience - all sizes, all hues and all ages - enjoy a good laugh, especially at a politician's expense.

In the grammar school theatre, Campbell has warmed them up, enough for some barracking of "Campbell for Prime Minister" after he does a feed for Campbell Live.

TV3 has added Peter Dunne and Jim Anderton on lecterns in unnatural places.

The audience are vastly amused to see Mr Anderton plonked on the "lads" side of the stage, side by side with Mr Hide - but not nearly as amused as at the sight of the undeniably burly Mr Hide having his bald head powdered.

"How does it look?" he primps.

"Yay," they yell and even let go of their Reactors for claps of glee.

Campbell returns and greets Mr Anderton, whose name was not on the original invite list.

"Nice to see you," Campbell says.

"Especially nice," Mr Hide hoots with glee.

Helen Clark bowls on stage about 10 minutes after the others have taken their spaces. She is roundly clapped.

The audience are a warm-natured lot. They don't even snigger when Don Brash kicks off the debate with a blunder. "As a listener ... as a leader, I listen."

They sit patiently through Jeanette Fitzsimons talking about rivers and air, through Mr Hide's wooing head nods at the camera.

They laugh at Helen Clark's "I'm decisive and direct and nobody dies wondering what I think."

They don't dare call out "grinches" when Jeanette Fitzsimons and Helen Clark are the only leaders to keep their hands down for lowering taxes.

In the first break, Campbell tells the audience, and the relieved politicians, that the worm had only good things to say about all of them.

"You're a lovely audience. You were positive about everyone. What a great group of New Zealanders."

Campbell gives the politicians instructions to toss the conversation around among them.

"It's just a chat. I'm not going to join in terribly much, so just toss it around."

They do this merrily, but when it gets to asset sales they're tossing it about so much that Campbell's finger has gone into turbo boost while it tries to find the right target.

By the second break, the audience's instructions have been shorthanded to "keep your h's on your r's."

They like Winston Peters being given a speaking slot by Campbell because he's been "remarkably well-behaved and I'd like to reward him for that".

But they still can't clap, for fear of being discovered with their h's off their r's.

The worm has its say, and the voters leave to watch it on video and see just what damage they've done.