#oneaday Day 913: Funny Bone

Nothing highlights the passage of time more than switching on a comedy show and see who is standing on stage, clutching a microphone in their hand and talking bollocks to an audience.

Also, nothing makes you sound more like you’re getting old than bemoaning the fact that “modern comedians” aren’t a patch on the standups you used to enjoy.

I’ve never been a particularly hardcore follower of comedy, but I do enjoy a good standup show, and over the years I’ve appreciated the work of a wide variety of comics. I’ve never quite got the reason that comics rise and fall in popularity like fashion trends — surely if something’s funny, it’s timeless and funny forever?

Well, actually, no. That’s not quite true. I recall vividly seeing a show about Tommy Cooper a while back and finding it utterly cringeworthy from start to finish. I couldn’t quite put my finger on why, but it simply wasn’t funny. Perhaps it’s because I wasn’t “of that time” that I couldn’t appreciate it — but then I look back at some of the stuff that Kenny Everett and Les Dawson did, and that’s still hilarious despite being a little out of what I’d describe as “my time”.

The earliest real standup I was aware of was a Lenny Henry video my parents had and which I decided to watch one day when they were out. (It was “15” rated and I was not 15 at the time.) While I didn’t understand everything that he was talking about — some of the stuff about marijuana went right over my head — I found it very entertaining. It’s not fashionable to admit that nowadays, of course, because Lenny Henry is now the guy who did Chef! and the man who advertises Travelodges, but I still find him pretty watchable when he appears on Comic Relief and the like.

The two standups I have the fondest memories of, however, are Eddie Izzard and Bill Bailey. I could watch these guys’ shows repeatedly forever. (Perhaps not forever.) Their comedy is distinctive, clever and rewarding — both in different ways. Izzard’s work rewards paying close attention to how he weaves the various chaotic threads of the things he is talking about together, while Bailey’s alternation between slightly-surreal standup and genuinely excellent musical numbers is just a pure delight to watch.

Going to Edinburgh a couple of times with the university theatre group was an eye-opening experience, as we got the opportunity to see a whole swathe of comedy acts — some great, some not so great. Some of the highlights included Daniel Kitson — aka the terrible DJ from Phoenix Nights — and Marcus Brigstocke, who now makes semi-regular appearances on various TV and radio panel shows. I can’t remember the names of any of the lowlights because in most cases it was just embarrassing to watch them fall apart in front of an increasingly-restless audience.

I will always have a soft-spot for improvisation. At university, we played improvisation games as warm-ups for rehearsals, had a weekly “Improv Night” and hosted an occasional “showcase” event known as Count Rompula, which tended to be largely improvised. (The Web of Dan still leaves me with shivers.) At Edinburgh, one of my favourite memories is seeing improv troupe Boom Chicago (or Boom Shit Cock, as one of our number who was constantly forgetting their name kept calling them) and marvelling at how quickly they picked up on suggestions from the audience and ran with them.

One of the things I like about Eddie Izzard’s comedy, in fact, is that it has an air of improvisation about it — though it becomes clear when he successfully weaves all his threads together that there actually is a significant degree of planning that goes into one of his shows.

I did have a point to all this somewhere. And that is that — yes, I’m an old man now — modern comics seem to be a bit rubbish, although I am using BBC Three as my yardstick here, which may not be particularly wise. (BBC Three, for those outside the UK or simply unfamiliar with the channel, is the dustbin of television, incorporating some of the most asinine documentaries you’ll ever see, a show called Snog Marry Avoid — which is exactly what you think it is — and what they call “experimental comedy”. I call it “shite”.) In recent weeks, I’ve seen a guy whose entire shtick seems to be just shouting at the audience (to be fair, Rhod Gilbert does this too and I find him hilarious — the difference being that Gilbert shouts with passion and righteous fury, while this other guy whose name I can’t remember simply seems to blurt out obscenities), a sketch in rather bad taste regarding death, and a guy who sang a song about a fridge. (All right, that last one actually was quite funny.)

Perhaps I’m just looking in the wrong place for my comedy kicks these days. As I noted, BBC 3 is a big steaming pile of poo at the best of times, so I should probably start by not using that as a means of judging modern comedy. Suggestions for fun and entertaining stand-up shows to catch would be most welcome, then, so please feel free to share!

#oneaday Day 905: The Breakfast Show

It was announced today that self-professed “saviour of Radio 1” Chris Moyles is stepping down as the host of the station’s Breakfast Show, a post he has held since January of 2004. Moyles’ early-morning show is the longest-running show in Radio 1’s history, but it is sadly coming to an end in September of this year.

I like Chris Moyles. I have done ever since I first inadvertently discovered him by tuning in my radio to our local station at 10pm one night when I was a teenager. I was enraptured by his irreverent humour and continued listening long into the night. I was accustomed to DJs on said local station being characterless, personality-devoid track title reading machines, so to hear someone actually acting like a human being — taking the piss out of the music he was playing, having light-hearted jabs at callers and taking an irreverent (though never offensive) approach to reviewing the day’s happenings — was something of a revelation.

I was delighted when, a number of years later, I rediscovered Moyles on Radio 1. I hadn’t followed his career after I stopped listening to the radio regularly, so I had no idea what he had been up to in the interim. But having him back on my stereo entertaining me in the mornings as I endured a lengthy commute to a job I hated was a bright spot in an otherwise fairly dark part of my life. The chemistry he had with his team was excellent, and the fast pace of the show was just the thing I needed to wake me up in the morning. Some criticised him for “talking too much” but I actually preferred listening to the team’s light-hearted banter to the musical monstrosities that make up the majority of Radio 1’s playlists.

At some point, it became fashionable to hate on Moyles. This happens with certain comedians, usually once they have reached a certain level of fame and ubiquity. Recently, it’s happened with Peter Kay (everyone loved him for a while, around the time of Phoenix Nights, then suddenly everyone hated him), Michael McIntyre (who appeared semi-regularly on shows such as Mock the Week for a while before everyone arbitrarily decided that he was no longer Flavour of the Month) and, as I say, Moyles, who is most frequently criticised for being egotistical and arrogant.

Moyles’ “persona” certainly has a large ego and a degree of arrogance, but it’s important to note that it is a persona — it’s a character he plays, a mask he puts up to the public. It’s the act he’s always done, ever since I first heard him on that late night local radio show, and I’ve always found it entertaining, because it’s abundantly clear to anyone who listens that all the self-aggrandisement is done with a knowing wink to the listener. Moyles was well aware that his ego and arrogance seemed ill-placed — he knew he wasn’t the most attractive guy in the world, that his occasional beard made him looked like a tramp and that he was overweight — so he played it up deliberately to an absurd degree. Some people took that literally, however. Understandable, but inaccurate. When he needed to be, Moyles could be genuine and heartfelt, and some of his most memorable moments on radio came when he was at his most earnest and honest.

It’s for these reasons that I’ll miss listening to Chris Moyles on the radio. Granted, I haven’t had the Breakfast Show on for a while now — I tend to get up a bit late for it these days, and I don’t have a clock radio by my bed any more — but Moyles and the team were very much a fixture in my life for a considerable amount of time, and I’ll be sorry to see them go. I hope they find a new home somewhere else — Moyles is certainly well over the unofficial “age limit” to become a Radio 2 presenter!

#oneaday Day 872: Haters Gonna Inspire Worldwide-Trending YouTube Videos

I really love it when someone I know achieves success with something. That’s why it was so utterly delightful to see something that a friend from university worked on gradually spread around the world today.

I am talking, of course, about this video, which if you haven’t watched yet… well, you just should. (Probably NSFW.)

I don’t know Isabel Fay (the lead performer) directly, but I do know one Mr Tom Hopgood, who co-produced the piece and has worked very hard with Isabel and the rest of the team at Clever Pie TV to produce some high-quality comedy skits over the last few years. Today, it seems, all that hard work really paid off.

I watched it happen over the course of the day. Another university friend shared the video. I expected this. But then someone who, to my knowledge, had no direct connection to Tom or Isabel shared the video, which surprised me. Then I shared it after watching it and finding it hilarious.

Then I went and did some work. As the day progressed, I saw the video start appearing in various tweets along with Facebook and Google+ posts.

Then Stephen Fry shared it, which is pretty much a guarantee that you’re going to be a sudden global sensation, at least temporarily. Sure enough, a lot of the YouTube comments indicated that Stephen Fry sent them.

As it gets close to bedtime, I see more and more people still sharing it, including other unrelated Twitter followers. It truly is something which has spread worldwide and has enjoyed universal appeal among everyone I know online. This is delightful to see.

It’s especially delightful to see as it was absolutely perfectly timed. I have a feeling it was just a happy coincidence that it happened to appear on everyone’s radar today, but after reading this depressing post over on Feminist Frequency regarding the harassment, misogyny and silencing tactics the author had endured after promoting her upcoming research and video series, it just seemed perfectly, perfectly apt. Perhaps the fact that hateful comments on the Internet are very much at the forefront of people’s minds right now meant that it resonated more than it might have done otherwise.

Or, you know, perhaps it’s just a great piece with an infuriatingly catchy melody.

Whatever the reasons were for the video enjoying the success it has done so far (and still is — Twitter mentions of it are still flowing in even as I type this) don’t really matter, though. I’m absolutely stoked for Isabel, Tom and the rest of the Clever Pie gang, and though I haven’t seen Tom for a large number of years now I’m very proud to say that I have both known and worked with him. I have photos to prove it and everything.

I hope this is the beginning of something really big for Clever Pie. If they can continue to tap into relevant topics like this, then they’ve got it made. “Thank You Hater!” manages to be both topical and timeless at the same time — Internet trolls are always going to be an issue, but they’re particularly prominent in people’s minds right now for various reasons.

Enough gushing. Time for the weekend. Have a good one, everyone.

#oneaday Day 826: No Kind of Atmosphere

I’ve been watching Red Dwarf on Netflix recently. In the process I’ve discovered that there’s actually a hell of a lot of that series that I’d never seen before, so I’ve been delighted to (re)discover it.

Red Dwarf was one of those series that That One Guy At University Who Endlessly Quoted Things endlessly quoted. Well, perhaps not endlessly — sometimes he was quoting Blackadder. I’m only just now, some ten years later, coming around to the idea that I can actually watch those shows again without hearing That One Guy At University Who Endlessly Quoted Things’ voice in my head.

That’s beside the point though. And the point is that Red Dwarf is still an excellent series, for more reasons than one.

First up, it’s quite simply an excellent comedy series. The small cast of exaggerated characters makes for some excellent comic situations. The fact that all of the characters have at least one major flaw in their personalities is what makes them entertaining, too — Lister is arguably the closest we get to a “straight man” in the show, but even he’s flawed; he’s gross, he’s selfish and his reliance on curry as his primary form of sustenance doubtless makes him rather unpleasant to live with. Rimmer, meanwhile, is by turns arrogant and crippled by self-doubt; The Cat is vain to a fault; and Kryten has difficulty with acting independently when it conflicts with his programming. Put these dysfunctional characters together and you have a recipe for plenty of comic conflict.

The less-considered side of the show is that it’s actually a surprisingly decent sci-fi show, too. While it doesn’t have anywhere near the budget of what we might be used to from more recent titles — or even shows like Star Trek: The Next Generation, which ran at a similar time — it manages to convey a convincing feeling of what Life Is Like In The Future. The show doesn’t batter the audience over the head with lengthy descriptions of what things do or how they work; rather, it simply drops things into conversation that make it clear that we’re absolutely not on 21st century Earth any more.

Part of this comes from the show’s use of language. Its use of terms like “smeg”, “gimboid”, “goit” and numerous other faux-expletives was initially to get around the fact that it wasn’t okay to say certain things on television, but over time these words became part of the show’s identity. Numerous other shows have taken a similar approach since — Firefly features Chinese swearing, for example, while Battlestar Galactica features the multi-purpose invective “frak” at regular intervals. (It’s not clear how much Red Dwarf’s use of fake swear words influenced these titles, if at all.) Initially, the presence of these words is jarring as you wonder what they mean and why they’re not simply using regular expletives. But over time, as you become invested in the worlds created by the writers, you begin to let these words wash over you and enter your vocabulary even though, in most cases, they’re completely made up, portmanteau words or “loan words” from another language.

Ultimately, Red Dwarf succeeds due to the fact it never tries to get ideas above its station. It knows that it’s a low-budget sci-fi comedy with a small cast, and rarely attempts to deviate too much from that formula. Some may argue that the later seasons do deviate from this formula and are consequently weaker as a result, but having not (re)watched them yet, I’m not going to comment on that right now. One thing the show doesn’t do, however, is rest on its laurels; each season has its own distinctive identity, and it’s quite fascinating to see the changes it goes through as the years pass by and the budget increases.

It’s still great, then, in short, and if you’ve never had the pleasure of watching it, then you should check it out. It’s all on Netflix (in the UK, anyway), so be sure to check it out if you’re a member.

#oneaday Day 719: Being a Further Missive on the Excellence of Community (the Televisual Entertainment Programme, Not the Social Concept)

I’ve now watched every currently-available episode of Community, in some cases more than once. And doing so has confirmed the show as a new favourite, ranked right up with Spaced and some of the best of recent British comedy.

(I’m going to get mildly spoilery at various points throughout the next few paragraphs, so if you care about that sort of thing, then stop reading now.)

Here’s why Community is so wonderful, then.

First up, it strikes the perfect balance between the mundane and the absurd. The main cast’s backstories are all somewhat tragic and quite serious in some cases, but the situations into which they all get are frequently bizarre, odd and downright hilarious. But when the time comes to drop the stupidity and “be serious” for a moment, the show always manages to do so with dignity and without feeling overly “preachy”. Jeff’s speeches are a predictable part of the show — so much so that the characters even reference them on regular occasions — but they often provide a good amount of “closure”, either to an episode, or to one act at least. In some ways, it’s like South Park, with bizarre, frequently borderline-offensive humour punctuated by material which is making a point — be it satire, moralising or simple observations on life.

Secondly, the characters themselves are interesting and well-defined. They all have two specifically-identifiable features: a character trait and their appearance. Every character has their own unique way of responding to the situations the group comes across, and every character has their own unique, instantly recognisable look. This isn’t to say they become predictable, however (Jeff’s speeches notwithstanding) — on a number of occasions we find out more about them when they don’t do what we expect.

Britta is a particularly good example of this. In the first episode, she’s introduced as “the hot girl”, the impossibly beautiful eye candy whom all the male viewers would very much like to… well, you know. Jeff (the impossibly beautiful eye candy whom all the female viewers would very much like to… etc) wants to get into her pants, so he sets up the fake study group, thereby setting up the whole series. It’d be easy for the show to have been all about those two, with both Jeff and Britta remaining somewhat shallow, predictable characters. But any time we see Britta making the hideous social faux pas that she becomes known for (“turning it into a snake!”), we suddenly have sympathy for her. She’s no longer the unattainably attractive perfect blonde girl, she’s a human. Jeff finds himself the subject of similar sympathy on a number of occasions throughout, though generally not for making social faux pas.

Thirdly, and continuing on the subject of the cast, the chemistry between them is excellent, and a real highlight of the show. The show doesn’t make a big deal out of the blossoming, budding, potential relationships among the group — it’s somewhat more natural, and that’s what makes it all the more powerful. Every stolen glance, hint of a smile, lingering hug — it all adds up and makes each and every relationship feel real, and you’re right there with them, feeling that “will they/won’t they” feeling as if you were the one hoping to steal a kiss from your favourite. It’s a far cry from Ross and Rachel, anyway — there’s no angst, no whining, no “on-off-break” drama, just realistic, adult relationships between people who are convincingly awkward about such things.

Jeff and Annie’s relationship throughout the show is a particular highlight, and this was a surprise for me as I watched each episode for the first time. I was expecting the show to focus on Jeff trying to convince Britta that he was worth bothering with, but in fact the relationship which seems to be explored the most is that between Jeff and Annie — and it’s between these two that the on-screen chemistry is so utterly compelling. When the first season ends with that kiss between the two of them after all the drama with Britta and Professor Slater, it’s a surprise, but a welcome one. There’s a lot of subtle setup prior to this point, with things looking like they were coming to a head with the “debate” episode, but then tailing off as the two seemed to think it’d be “wrong” somehow — largely due to the age gap between them.

As of the time of writing, whatever electricity is between them hasn’t been fully resolved, and there’s growing tension between Troy and Britta, too. It’ll be interesting to see how these are developed when (not “if”, at last!) the show returns later in the spring.

It’s not all about the main cast, though. A big part of the humour in the show comes from its supporting actors, too. While we don’t learn a lot about Leonard, for example, we do pick up a number of nuggets of information during his brief appearances and a memorable shot of his frozen pizza reviews YouTube channel in the credits of one late episode. The Dean, conversely, gets plenty of screen time and we get to know quite a bit about this character. Initially appearing to be something of a predictable camp, gay stereotype, we gradually come to discover his hidden nuances, particularly in later episodes, with it all coming to a head (no pun intended) with his revelations in the episode where he shoots the new Greendale commercial.

And all this isn’t even getting into the wonderful “special” episodes. The paintball episodes, the Dungeons and Dragons episode, the stop-motion Christmas special, the spectacular anime sequences in the fussball episode, the Glee episode which rounded out the first half of the third season — some of the most memorable moments in TV right there. But I digress.

The sign of a good show of this type is if you’d want to hang out with the characters in your own time. And I can say with some certainty that if I had the opportunity to join that study group, I’d do so in a heartbeat. Sure, I’d probably fail every exam I took, but I’d have formed some of the most memorable friendships of my life.

The cast and crew of the show have done an astonishingly good job on creating one of the best shows in recent years. I hope against hope it isn’t made to die before its time due to its apparently poor ratings — but at least fans can take comfort from the fact that the show has been confirmed to be returning to complete its third season in the spring of this year. Beyond that, who knows?

Would that this desk were a Time Desk, so I could travel forward to the future and see if it runs for six seasons and a movie…

#oneaday, Day 47: 6 Brit Comedies You Should Watch*

There’s a specific breed of British comedy that’s been around for a few years now that’s a far cry from the “old school”. Mostly, it can be recognised by the presence of any or all of the following people in the cast: Simon Pegg, Nick Frost, Mark Heap, Dylan Moran, Tamsin Greig, Richard Ayoade, Matt Berry, Kevin Eldon, Stephen Merchant. Yes, I know there are others, but the above-mentioned each have a number of different shows to their name with a considerable amount of crossover. Also, they’re the only ones I can remember the names of without resorting to Googling.

Anyway. This specific breed of British comedy is quick-fire, clever and often quite surreal. As such, it doesn’t appeal to everyone. There are some items on this list that Americans in particular find very difficult to fathom. And indeed some Brits find it quite hard to fathom, too. But I can highly recommend at least giving all of them a shot if you’re not already familiar with them. And if you are already familiar with them, the UK-based people (and those who are clever at faking UK IP addresses) will probably be interested to know that all the Channel 4-based ones are available via YouTube.

So, onward then.

Spaced

It’d be remiss of me not to mention Spaced, probably the most accessible of all these shows, even though I’m pretty sure most people are very familiar with it by now. A tale of relatively normal people in circumstances that are frequently anything but normal, it’s a stylish show crammed full of smileworthy cultural references and some truly wonderful character work. It put Simon Pegg and Nick Frost firmly on most people’s radars, and is pretty much the reason Shaun of the Dead exists.

There are so many amazing scenes, but this has to be my favourite.

Black Books

Black Books is some gloriously surreal character-driven comedy based largely around the wonderful chemistry between Dylan Moran, Bill Bailey and Tamsin Greig. It’s a simple show with some completely off-the-wall humour that is a little too much for some people. But it managed to hold its own for three seasons, which is pretty good going for a low-budget Brit comedy, even if our seasons are considerably, considerably shorter than an American season.

Like Spaced, there are a ton of fantastic scenes to choose from, but it’s difficult to beat this one.

Big Train

Big Train is a sketch-based show on which Pegg, Heap and many others had one of their first “big breaks”. It almost defies description, such is the diversity of the sketches in which they engage. But it carries the cast’s trademark surrealist humour, allowing you to escape into a land of pure nonsense.

Garth Merenghi’s Darkplace

A great idea for a show, this. Darkplace is a fictional TV show presented with occasional talking-head segments from completely fictional writers and actors. The TV show itself is convincingly low-budget and awful—so much so that it’s intentionally unintentionally hilarious—and the whole thing is a fantastic parody of the terrible crap that we see on our TV at times.

The IT Crowd

Another piece of genius small-scale character-driven comedy, this one has successfully made the transition across the pond for many people. Featuring a cast who are perfect comic foils for one another, a setting which most people can relate to and a variety of mundane-yet-hilarious situations, this has to be one of my favourite shows.

Green Wing

I’ve only just discovered this as I’ll confess I didn’t quite “get it” when it was first shown on TV, though this was probably largely due to the fact I only ever caught little bits of it. It’s a heavily stylised show set in a hospital with very little discernible medical content, and one of the strangest casts of characters you’ll ever see. I am now addicted to it

There. Enjoy. Should keep you busy for a little while.

* Unless you’re American.**

** Maybe. Give them a chance at least.

#oneaday, Day 260: In Between

I don’t watch much TV, unless you count DVD box sets of favourite series like Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel. British TV has three main types: utterly terrible (Last of the Summer Wine, Dad’s Army, anything involving Eamon Holmes), moderately inoffensive (usually involving people wandering around houses going “hmm, it’s got character”) and bloody brilliant (Spaced, Black Books, The IT Crowd, QI). One of the latter category I will always make an effort to watch is The Inbetweeners from Channel 4.

For the uninitiated, The Inbetweeners is a show about a group of four sixth formers (college-age 16-18 year olds, to the Americans among you). And it doesn’t pull any punches whatsoever. Rather than being the sanitised view of school/college life that you see in most shows, this show is how it is. At least if you grew up in the late 90s or beyond. Possibly before; I couldn’t say, since I only went through my late teens once and did so in the late 90s.

By “realistic”, I mean “foul-mouthed, disgusting and sex-obsessed”. And yet the characters involved are somehow likeable despite being, in many cases, terrible human beings. It’s the contrasts that work well; there’s Will the “specky twat”, Simon, who is relatively normal despite stropping at his parents every five seconds, Jay the sex-obsessed, lying arsehole and Neil who is so very, painfully stupid. They’re the perfect comic foils to each other, and the best thing about the show is that I know (or have at least met) all four of them at some points in my life. And no, I shan’t be sharing who each one of them reminds me of!

The other thing that works so well is the variety of scrapes that they all get into. They’re all situations that will be familiar to anyone who remembers being a sixth former. Getting your first car and it being crap. Panicking over sexual encounters. Taking advice from your friends even when you know they’re a bunch of complete fucking idiots. And finding your place in the world.

I’m probably making this sound deeper than it actually is; mostly it’s a comedy show with a wide variety of gross-out humour and a foul mouth. But despite its extremeness at times, it remains consistently entertaining, hilarious and, at times, horrifically uncomfortable.

If I didn’t know so many people who loved watching it, I’d say it was perfect viewing for an exclusive audience of teenage boys… or at least those who remember being teenage boys. But judging from my Twitter feed there are a wide variety of people who love the show and feel much like I do; they’ll make a specific effort to watch it and will happily quote it at every opportunity.

Channel 4, despite being the home of Big Brother for so long, has long been the home of awesome shows like this. Let’s hope there are many more like it in the future; and that audiences around the world get to enjoy them too. With the content as it is, I couldn’t say if it would ever make it onto American TV (tonight’s episode featured Simon punching himself in the dick whilst shouting “GET BIG, YOU CUNT!” for example) but for those of you across the pond who like the idea of “kids talking like kids” and doing things that kids do, be sure to check it out.

#oneaday, Day 49: End of the Week

Hello! Short entry tonight as I have, despite spending most of the day thinking “I should write my blog”, ended up in bed. Oh well.

This weekend I have: tidied up, washed up, completed Miles Edgeworth: Ace Attorney and finally got around to watching a DVD from New Zealand that my parents got me a while back.

The DVD is worthy of further attention. It’s called Seven Periods with Mr Gormsby and is a comedy-drama about the titular supply teacher coming in to a rather difficult school and finding his traditional views are rather at odds with the touchy-feely nature of modern education.

Gormsby is a wonderful character, and frequently comes out with some of the most offensive things I’ve ever heard, which seem even worse in the high school context. My favourite has to be his nonplussed attitude after finding a drawing of himself on his blackboard with the slogan “Mr Gormsby takes it up the arse”.

“I would like the boy who did this,” he says, “to come forward and take his punishment like a man. I’m not going to give you detention and I’ve been forbidden to use the cane, so the one who is responsible for this defamation… I am going to fuck. And this won’t be that namby-pamby buggery you’d get from your music teacher. No, boys, no-one who gets rogered by Gormsby comes back for seconds.”

The humour is incredibly rude throughout – so much so that I’m not surprised I’ve never seen it over here. But it is hilarious and, in the words of my wife, “they should show it on teacher training courses”.

There. Done. Good night!

One A Day, Day 42: TV Time Machine

Jane and I have been watching some old TV recently, thanks to the magic of YouTube Shows, YouTube’s new(ish) section that now contains TV shows officially uploaded by the broadcasters, and not broken into 9-minute chunks. Okay, there are irritating adverts at the beginning, midpoint and end that inexplicably always freeze at exactly the same moment, but it’s a small price to pay for a huge amount of content from Channel 4 and, should you have ever found anything worth watching on there, Five. The big plus over the BBC’s iPlayer service is that it’s not just for catching up on programmes up to seven days after they’ve been broadcast. No, the new YouTube page is a replacement for Channel 4’s old 4OD (aka “4 On Demand”) service, which used to only work on PCs via Windows Media Player and some proprietary software to log in to the service. The move to YouTube means that you can watch these programmes on anything that can “get” YouTube, including devices like the PS3 and Wii.

I’ve been watching a few different things on there, including Whose Line Is It Anyway‘s gradual change from British comedy showcase (including early sightings of Stephen Fry, John Sessions and numerous others) to the almost-fixed cast of Colin Mochrie, Ryan Stiles and the rotating “other two” that is more familiar to those who picked up on it quite late.

Most recently, though, Jane and I have been watching Drop The Dead Donkey, a satirical newsroom-based sitcom which ran from 1990-1998. It was prepared and broadcast at incredibly short notice so it could always be bleeding-edge topical. Each episode on YouTube helpfully starts with a brief summary of that week’s news events, so when the characters name-check the things that went on (as they frequently do) you have at least a vague idea what they’re talking about.

The funny thing about …Donkey is that, despite being twenty years old (a fact which my wife is not at all happy about) a lot of the things in there are still just as relevant today. In particular, we have the interfering management busybody “Gus”, who habitually shows up with a smarmy “Hello! Remember, I’m not here. I am just a sort of managemental support unit” whom is a fine example of everything that is wrong with corporate usage of the English language these days. We also have roving reporter Damien’s blatant attempts to “spice up” his on-location reports, including one wonderfully perverse sequence where he is being bothered by people wandering past in the background waving, so he borrows a grenade from a passing soldier and lobs it into the background to cause a panic.

These things are still relevant today, as Charlie Brooker’s Newswipe (all of which can also be “unofficially” found online – with the full knowledge and appreciation of Mr Brooker, I might add – thanks to this fine chap on YouTube) frequently comments on. It’s always nice to find something that is still entertaining after a good few years, particularly if you never got the chance to catch it first time around, like I didn’t. …Donkey clearly had such a low budget (both in terms of time and money) that it is all about the characters and the situations, and that’s what makes it such a success. There’s no special effects to laugh at, and everyone’s hairstyle and clothes are (relatively) normal. These things make it somewhat timeless – so if you’ve never seen it, why not give it a shot?

On a side note, if you want yet another online TV site to check out, you can do far worse than check out SeeSaw, which also has a ton of content from the BBC, Channel 4 and Five. ITV’s content is conspicuously absent from both SeeSaw and YouTube, but that’s no great loss, given the fact that most programmes on ITV are enough to make you want to kill yourself.