A Smorgasbord of British Satire: Wit for a King

Of all the different types of humour that hovers around in the big scary world that is the media today, there is perhaps none more respected and valued than satire. Mark Twain once said, “The secret source of humor itself is not joy but sorrow. There is no humor in heaven”, summing up nicely why satire and similar forms of humour exist and are so popular. Unlike any other humour, satire does not just improve with pragmatics, it requires it. People feel smart when they get it, and curious when they don’t, and can encourage people to keep up with the news and events. And, while I fully admit to a certain bias in their favour, Britain in particular have a certain spark for subtle-y humiliating adversaries and allies alike. Some are amazing, some are abysmal, some I'll touch on here. Well, the ones I know enough about to have an opinionated snort at.

One of the first examples of a television broadcast to feature parodies of news and politics was a 1962 late-night BBC broadcast that went by the name of That Was The Week That Was. Hosted by now legendary satirist David Frost, the show pushed boundaries and caused people to question the famous unbiased attitude of the BBC’s political agenda. However, the show never showed favouritism towards a political party as a whole, and instead focused on the incompetent acts of individual members and in general, lampooned the establishment in a successful attempt to appeal to the lower classes of the audience classification. As Frost put it, they wanted to "Change the world, one joke at a time".

This paved the way for other British satires to establish themselves and be taken seriously by the British public. Have I Got News For You is as simple as satire programs get. Host, four panelists, taking the piss out of the week's events. This simplicity, however, has managed to give the show an astounding lifespan of over 44 seasons and counting. The mix of politicians, journalists, comedians and other controversial celebrities as guests are a factor in maintaining the constant current-ness and controversy and roping in various audiences that want, among other things, the political wit and the light hearted whimsies, as well as a different guest host every episode to keep things fresh. Sorry, Angus, but you were terrible.
Oddly enough, I find this three minute clip to be the best representation of the show.

Of course, the great can't exist without the terrible to establish the great as being great, and to me, the biggest insult to satire that Blighty ever spat out was Russell Howard's Good News. This monstrosity focuses less on the main headlines of the week, and instead targets news stories that are more obscure, but have more opportunities for comedy. In addition, the show does not rely on pragmatics as much as it’s more sophisticated counterparts. Instead, it chooses to fully explain the story before the host, aptly named Russell Howard, begins his joke. It also features considerably more profanity and juvenile antics, and occasionally includes videos found online. Good News, like it’s British satire counterparts mentioned earlier, are featured on the BBC, specifically BBC Three, a channel of which I have made my feelings very clear. To empathise this, the show is edited in a manner that gives it a low budget feel, with a small, somewhat grimy studio, basic camera cuts, and Howard himself dressing in casual attire. He's essentially the British Dane Cook. Avoid at all costs.

When searching for the greatest British satirical program, however, there can only be one winner. That winner is Brass Eye. I won't say much about it, I'll let the clip speak for itself. We can't be friends if you don't find this funny. Which is fine, because it's the type of clip that can really divide people, and if you don't like it, you won't want to be friends with anyone who is. It'll make sense when you watch it.

 This entire entry was just an excuse to play that clip. I hope it was worth it for both of us.

Kingdom of the Crystal Skull: A Fridge too Far

Ah, Indiana Jones. The second most popular action hero ever had a hell of a resume, one to be proud of. Three films, three successes over the course of the 80's, each succeeding by themselves whilst still contributing to the overall arc of the trilogy. What a feel-good story in the world of film! Three well behaved, likable children, getting good jobs and ready to make a difference in the world. But wait a minute! The dad that left home when you were 8 has had another baby, decades later, with another lady! What the hell, dad? You're like, 53.

The Phantom Menace is the drunk uncle in this analogy.

Yes, Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull has always stood out as the last hurrah that nobody wanted, a last ditch effort to milk some nostalgia bucks out of nerds and fathers who have so far failed at convincing their kids how great Indiana Jones is. And upon release, was met by such seething resentment, you'd be forgiven for thinking the film just consisted of Indy snagging his balls on the corner of a dinner table and swallowing a bee. If you didn't hate this movie, you didn't deserve movies, or fun, or any kind of distraction from the misery of your inevitable demise. But does it deserve all the contempt and loathing beseech-ed upon it? Well, no, not really. Crystal Skull is actually a damn solid film.

The drugs are starting to take their toll on Mia Wallace.

There are a lot of reasons why the internet has chosen to use the fourth Jones installment as their cork board of hatred and misery. The plot, the gimmicks, the effects, Shia LaBeouf, having to google Shia LaBeouf to make sure you have the spelling right, and then twice going back and checking again because you forgot it. But the way I see it, few of those complaints are valid. Let's start with the plot. Many believed it was an absurd departure from the 'traditional' Indy format, introducing aliens at the cost of the usual religious myth. I honestly thought this was okay. It wasn't really any more unrealistic than the other Jones movies, it just had a slightly different focus. Besides, a crystal skull is synonymous with alien folklore, so it wasn't that much of a surprise going in. Sometimes it pays to Wikipedia a film before you see it.

In a time without Nazi's, it's harder for bad guys to immediately explain their motives and be hated at the same time, so in that sense, the bad guys, led by a perfectly serviceable Cate Blanchett, do well in their roles. The character and development of Mac is dumb, but Ray Winstone makes chicken salad out of it, using every ounce of his lovable sliminess. It's fun seeing Marion again, albeit slightly bizarre, since this is the first example of clear canon the series has ever had. And then there's Mutt. The movie character equivalent of getting bitten by a rabid monkey. I don't like him, by any means. But I don't hate him. He doesn't try and steal the show and he gets beaten up a lot, which are two easy ways to make me not hate a character. So congratulations, Shia LaBeouf. Your extremely punchable face getting punched all over the place has made me tolerate you.

It's time we addressed the lead-coated elephant in the room. Nuke the Fridge is one of the dumbest moments in Indiana Jones history, and that includes Kate Capshaw being terrified of an owl. Yes, even if that'd worked (it wouldn't have) Jonsey would've broken ever bone in his body on the landing. Yes, he probably has radiation poisoning and will die too young in tremendous amounts of pain. But you know what? If faces can melt and a knight can live for 700 years, maybe a fridge can withstand an atom bomb blast. Maybe. Probably not, though.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull is not a superb film, it's the worst in the quadrilogy, sure. But the things you loved so much about the first three films - the humour, the wacky yet historic plots, the fun characters, the action, the general B-movie-ness - it's all still there, if you look past the blu-ray and the grey hair and the completely appropriate Shia LaBeouf hanging out with monkeys. I truly believe that, as time goes by, people will accept this as a film that earned its place at the dinner table, and where the Christmas photo won't have a face mysteriously scratched out.

You sick of these Indy films = broken family jokes yet?

...I don't have to f**king impress you.

Mitchell Monday: Passion

I'm currently at an age where I have to be writing about myself a lot. I'm avoiding the word "passion" as much as possible. It's surprisingly difficult. Enjoy the video.

Cars: Pixar it Didn't Happen

There aren't many places where you expect phenomenal quality and get it just about every time. The Ritz, Arrested Development, Manchester United if they're losing and it's injury time. And for a long time, Pixar had its rightful spot on that list, creating some of the finest family films ever made. They were everything an audience could want. Memorable, likable characters, perfect range of jokes to suit all ages, inside references, the works. Then 2006 happened, Disney officially bought Pixar, and people held their breath. Now that the soul sapping, woman hating, money grabbing dynasty was in control of the lovable studio, how would it affect their films? Cars was the first film to come out under the new regime. And those people that had held their breath exhaled, not in relief, but in more of a "...yyyyyup."

And so began the most depressing Rule 34 tag ever.

The reason why Cars is Pixars first fail is several-fold, and not all of said reasons are because of Disney. Firstly, the characters are not that interesting. Probably the least likable, least developed characters in any Pixar film. Lightning McQueen is an awesome track rider! But alls he cares about is winning! Will he meet a group of characters that can make him see the error of his ways, preferably characters that don't stray even a little bit from redemption film genre stereotypes, like boring love interest, old cranky veteran, idiotic funny sidekick and Mexican? Darn right he will, in a mind-numbingly suspenseful tale, full of twists and turns...in the road. The story, not so much. The lack of effort in creating a dynamic story with compelling characters is especially jarring when compared to Pixars other endeavors, where original stories accompany them to Oscar wins and critical acclaim. So if Cars isn't here for the awards, what is it here for?

Pretty much.

Cars was made solely to sell merchandise, and it shows. There's a five second scene of McQueen daydreaming about saving the world from aliens with missiles and fire, and that got released as a toy.Characters that have speak about nine words during the course of the film, suddenly are part of the main gang at Christmas time and they're on the shelves. The popular characters all have clever one liners that are so obviously made for the talking toy range, they sound distinctively phoned in. The fact that it's a movie about cars, called Cars, makes the video game tie-in even lazier than most movie games. 

For the first time, Pixar neglected part of their audience when making a film; the parents. They'd proved numerous times before that they can make a family film that's just about perfect, and they'd go on to prove it again. Which just makes this flat faced sell out of a film all the more disappointing.

Oh, and then there's this.

Of course.

Mitchell Monday: Downton Abbey

I don't watch Downton Abbey. I will never write anything about it. It's not specifically because of what David Mitchell says here that put me off, but it certainly didn't help.

Spaced: The Fried Gold Standard

British TV comedy is an unsteady thing. When it's good it's wonderful, with masterpieces like Blackadder, Porridge, and more recently, Outnumbered and Episodes. When it's bad it's embarrassing, with Not Going Out, 2 Pints of Lager and a Packet of Crisps and Miranda serving to remind us that we're still not out of that Carry On/Benny Hill slapstick innuendo laugh track codswallop that Britain has been unfortunately shouldering since the 60's. For me, though, the show that tops all other British comedies isn't a 20 series marathon or a relic from the dungeons of BBC headquarters. It is Spaced, the first creation from the minds of Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright. A creation they have yet to match since, and likely never will.

I'm so happy.

To explain why Spaced is such genius, one has to realise how original and off the wall it was. Hell, the first episode aired in 1999, but if it was airing for the first time today, it would still be breaking away from the pack. Channel 4 are notably good at giving new comedies a chance, so it makes sense that they would be the channel to give Spaced its break.What the series did was create a base premise as simple as peas, and add insane characters that had limitless rules for them to stick to. Every character was superb and added to the show significantly, but the stars of the show were always Tim and Daisy, the loser friends that have to pretend to be a couple in order to rent a cheap, comfortable flat. They're not conning anyone into having penthouse apartment in the centre of London, it's a realistic, relate-able suburb, with a somewhat believable explanation as to how all these characters come together. The premise of 'extraordinary people in an ordinary world' is a cliché, for sure, but it certainly doesn't feel like one here. It's a seemingly dull story, told in an over the top, Hollywood way, and that's why it works. Because it shouldn't.

Then there's the humour itself. Spaced consists of a steady barrage of wit, sight gags, slapstick, colloquial jokes, references and setup/punchline adjacency pairs that weave together to create a seamless, hilarious experience that makes you wonder why other comedies simply rely on one form of humour. Take My Family, where the only joke is Ben is stupid and hates his family, or Miranda, where the only joke is Miranda is stupid and ugly. With Spaced, it's a safe bet that your favourite moment in the show will be wildly different to what theirs is. That being said, the numerous film and TV references is probably one of the most celebrated traits of Spaced. It's like Airplane! for nerds; if there was a movie reference you didn't find funny or didn't get, don't worry, there'll be another in five seconds that you will find funny. Rarely are these references substantial to the plot, and serve mostly as little rewards to the audience members that are as geeky as Pegg, Wright and Stevenson. Which is completely the right way round of doing it.

What needs to be taken into account, however, is why the show felt so fresh during its run; because there was barely a run to begin with. With just two 7 episode series', Spaced was over before it could barely get up to full speed, such is often the case with British comedies. Perhaps, then, that's why Fox felt the need to create their own version of the extremely tongue-in-cheek, British show, with predictably, and thankfully, disastrous results. Or, maybe it's a prefect example of cashing in your chips whilst you're on a high and never looking back, making sure you're only remembered as one of the true greats. Whatever the case, Spaced will always be fondly remembered as one of Britains quirkiest, weirdest and funniest TV shows. Let 'em have it.

Mitchell Monday(ish): Lol

It's still Monday for some of you, but I can't lie to myself; I'm late, and I'm sorry. Anyhow, this is one of my favourite Soap Box videos, effortlessly explaining the way I text and why.

Page vs. Screen: Tess of the D'Urbervilles

I'm going to be honest. I don't like Thomas Hardy. His poetry is bland and irredeemably melancholy, he seemed to be something of a tool in real life and the way he victimised himself when it came to his relationships made him seem as likable as Tighten from Megamind. But that doesn't mean I can't respect a piece of work like Tess of the D'Urbervilles, famed for its incredible imagery, overly explanatory context and one of the most beloved female characters in the history of literature. The BBC, a reliable source of well created period dramas, created four hour long episodes committed to giving the famous novel a middle class, tax funded make over. And as it turns out, that doesn't do much harm at all.

One of the only Google Image pictures from Tess that isn't a character staring moodily at the camera.

The novel edition of Tess of the D'Urbervilles jumps often between incredible, immersive literature, and Thomas Hardy drabble. The story itself is pretty hard to fault; if you ever wanted to know how to make a protagonist sympathetic, this should be your inspiration. Tess is happy for about 9 pages of this over 500 page epic, with the rest consisting of terrible things happening to her at every turn. Some of the language Hardy uses is breathtaking, with quotes like "chilled the eyeballs of the twain" sticking in the memory long after you've finished reading. The novel does a good job at sticking with Tess' perspective throughout, veering off only when Angel is looking for her in the city. It's been well documented that Thomas Hardy fell in love with Tess during the writing of her, and you can truly tell, as great detail has been put into every experience she undertakes, and despite the awfulness she goes through, you can sense him wanting to protect her, and you can't help but feel the same. But for every incredible moment, there's half a page of Hardy reciting a history book to you. Tess will visit a church or something, and suddenly you're reading about all the famous people that are buried there.It serves no purpose other than it gives Tommy a chance to brag about how much he knows about dilapidated buildings. It disrupts the pace and frustrates the reader, acting as an infuriating level boss before moving on to the next chapter. You shouldn't need to go through filler to read the bits you really love, and a lot of the time, that's what Thomas Hardy's Tess of the D'Urbervilles feels like.

The BBC series adaptation received criticism for its slow pacing and lack of 'oomph' that was found in other adaptations, such as the 1979, which I've yet to see, unfortunately. From where I'm standing, however, the four episode series has the perfect pacing that does justice to the book while still being a standalone success. The performances are exceptional, with Gemma Arterton as Tess in the only role I've ever liked her in ever, Hans Matheson is deliciously slimy as Alec, even down to the more minor roles like Ruth Jones as Joan, Tess' mother. There is not another actor in Britain today who could have done a better job. Not a single plot point that Hardy included is omitted in the series, with the four hours used efficiently to leave no stone un-turned and risk die-hard fans complaining. The pace is slow, there's no denying that. But it's supposed to be, and it works. Nothing is filler, despite the slow pace, and everything feels necessary and beneficial. Which brings us to the clincher. There's one thing the series does leave out. Something that makes it much better off as a result. The Thomas Hardy history lessons.

It's because of this I can't help but prefer the BBC series of Tess of the D'Urbervilles to Thomas Hardy's original. I don't know if it's the best adaptation of Tess that's ever been created, but I'll be damned if there's one that does a better job at sticking to the novels structure, telling its story simplistically and trimming the narrative fat that is Thomas Hardy's ego. Do I prefer the series solely because I don't like Hardy? Maybe. But it's not my fault he was a tosser.

BOOK OR TV: TV

Mitchell Monday: Beer Advertising

Apologies for the tardiness with posts last week, I've been super busy with real life type things. Unfortunately, it will probably continue this week, and then after that I'll be back to a fuller steam than you've ever seen before. But these are easy, so at least I can keep up with them.