Come Fly With Me - Episode One

Come Fly With Me, starring Little Britain's David Walliams and Matt Lucas, aired on Christmas to an audience of around 10M (roughly the same as Doctor Who's overnights).

I like Lucas when he works with Reeves and Mortimer. I liked Walliams's contributions to Doctor Who Day 1999. However, I don't like them together* -- I've yet to finish an episode of Little Britain. I thought I'd try out Come Fly With Me to give the duo another chance.

Mockumentary style is nice, albeit trendy (I haven't tired of it... yet). No laugh track; we're off to a good start. Walliams and Lucas play all of the primary characters. That's the gimmick, that's part of the appeal, because people know and like Walliams and Lucas and half the fun (hence my use of the word gimmick) is seeing them skillfully inhabit vastly different characters.

(That doesn't happen on American television. One actor per role, 99 times out of 100. It occurred to me that, if the humor worked, a sketch show like CFWM that boasts a huge cast of characters might be quite successful here. A one-to-one actor to character ratio in the US would mean spotlight opportunities for many actors, because in a sketch show ideally no storyline is neglected (FlashForward, Glee, proving the point). Then again, where are any sketch shows in the US? Not on the air.)

The League of Gentlemen has infinite rewatch value, for me, because I love Gatiss, Pemberton, and Shearsmith. The actors I fell in love with keep me coming back. Walliams and Lucas hit the jackpot with Little Britain; the whole UK knows who they are. Their names don't even appear on screen until the end credits, because they don't need to be. Fans and curious viewers tuned in to CFWM because of name recognition and (probably) an extensive ad campaign by the BBC. Walliams and Lucas are big.

Unfortunately, CFWM's humor just doesn't work. CFWM's non-white characters are stereotypes, hardly characters at all. You can have a comedy that isn't nonstop laughs and is still a great show. This isn't the case here because CFWM doesn't have any depth (rounded characters) or sub-genre (TLOG's horror) to fall back on. It's just a comedy that isn't funny. A gimmick does not a successful comedy make, in the long term. Or even the short term.

* ETA: Actually, I thought Mash & Peas was decent. So I take that back.

Community - Mixology Certification, 2.10 (& The Office)

Community is fantastic. Mixology Certification is tonally at odds with the rest of the series, I'll admit, but that doesn't mean it's weaker; it's just different. Remember, this is the show with episodes like the action-packed Modern Warfare as well as bottle episode Cooperative Calligraphy. It's a young show, and its willingness to experiment shouldn't be held against it. In fact, I think its unpredictability in style and plot, grounded in its strong and familiar cast, makes it all the more compelling.

Thursday's episode wasn't very funny. And I say that in the best possible way. Because at the expense of humor, we got to look at these characters in a very different light. We saw them in a bar, where Jeff and Britta are exposed as children and Shirley as imperfect with a shameful past, and we see Troy absorb all of this. Troy's the stupid, funny jock but as he turns 21 he grows up. He becomes a man, according to Jeff. It's strange to see Troy as the moral center, the most down to earth member of the crew; but tonight he is. This might have been the obligatory character development installment of the season, but I think it turned out to be a lot more than that. It exposed all the characters, some in more obvious ways than others, but all still poignant: Pierce is helpless, Shirley regrets her alcoholic past, Annie is unsure of the path she's choosing (played BRILLIANTLY by Alison Brie, as usual), Jeff and Britta are argumentative and immature. And Troy sees all of this, and for once we see an episode through him, and it's surprisingly sincere.

Mixology Certification is bleak, and I love it for risking that. If I've learned anything from writing this blog, it's that I love shows that are a hybrid of comedy, drama, and heart. (Sprinkle a few aliens or alternate dimensions or superhero ASBO shitheads in there, and you have my undying love.) There are sketch comedies like Bruiser that are hilarious but don't have an emotional draw. And that's not a fault, that's just the way the show is. It's still ace. But if I'm not emotionally invested in some way, it's not an all-time favorite... or at least, that's the hypothesis right now. We'll see! This blog is an experiment!

- - - - -

"Imagine a country... where forks are irrelevant." All right, Office, you can make me laugh occasionally (and I am always surprised when you do), but you can't make me love you again. The spark is gone. I used to be emotionally invested in Pam and Jim and amused by Michael (wow, those were the days) but now I simply don't care about anyone. Are the characters less real now that we know so much about Oscar's holier-than-thou attitude (remember when he was just the gay Mexican one? With the bitchy art critic boyfriend Gil?), and we have been fully exposed to the deviousness of Angela. Shouldn't fleshed-out characters deepen an audience's relationship with a show? In a sitcom like The Office, plot propels but characters compel. And that's the most important thing. That's what keeps viewers watching and wanting more. Pam and Jim were TV's most popular "will they or won't they" because they were endearing and realistic.

Thursday's episode China is funny, but I found that while watching, I was bored and simply uninterested in what was going to happen next. Maybe I've just lost interest.

Unfortunately I was only half paying attention by the end and can't write an informed piece about Dwight being "not motivated by compassion" which seems like something I'd normally like to explore. Oh well.

This emotion in comedy thing... I'd like to write about the Extras special sometime. I'd say the same about the British Office, but I'd just be reiterating all the positives I've written about the US Office. (I.E. investment in Jim and Pam = good. Relatable humor in the mundane = good. Though it would differ in the Gareth/Dwight and Brent/Scott aspects because both versions of the characters are excellent for different reasons.)

And one of these days I will write about Catterick. One day.

The League of Gentlemen - Destination Royston Vasey, 2.01

The second series of The League of Gentlemen should NOT have had a laugh track. This series more than the first used fewer direct jokes in favor of bizarre situations and characters. The first episode of the second series, for instance, features two sketches that are hindered by laughter: the charity shop scene, in which the escalating situation is funny on its own, and when punctuated by laughter, is excessive. The viewer gets the joke. It doesn't need to be defined. The second sketch is the infamous Papa Lazarou one. The League of Gentlemen is a horror-comedy that is often grotesque and strange. The second series in particular draws inspiration from classic horror tropes and utilizes dark imagery. The humor is excellent as ever, but it's the darker tone that is truly compelling. The entire scene is bizarre and funny. Everything Reece does is spot-on, from the gibberish babble to the peculiar body language to the incongruous strut. "Want to buy some pegs, Dave?" incites laughs as it's meant to. But "You're my wife, now!" at the end, as Steve takes off his wedding ring in resignation, doesn't. And it's obvious why. The sketch took a brilliantly sinister turn, and though it's still funny, it's not laugh track-suitable. And when the laughter is taken away at the end of the sketch, it is more evident than ever how much the series just doesn't need it.