2290: The Excruciating Accuracy of W1A

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The other night, I was randomly trawling Netflix for something to watch while I couldn’t sleep, and I stumbled across a BBC show I’d never seen before called W1A. I later discovered that this was the follow-up to Twenty Twelve (which I also haven’t seen yet), and is one of the most effective “fake documentary” series I’ve seen since the original British version of The Office.

W1A focuses on the BBC itself, which is a pretty ballsy move given how scathing the show is of BBC corporate culture. Casting Hugh “Downton Abbey” Bonneville in the role of Ian Fletcher, the BBC’s new Head of Values, the show follows Fletcher’s efforts to make sense of the waffling business-speak world that one of the world’s most celebrated broadcasters has become in the last few years. Fletcher is by no means a blameless character in all this, but he, by far, comes across as one of the most “normal” and relatable characters in the cast.

The reason for this is that the rest of the cast members are exaggerated parodies of various office archetypes. I would say that they are exaggerated to the degree of absurdity, but not far through the first episode I realised that I had met and interacted with each and every one of these archetypes at various points in my professional life — in education, in office work and in retail — and suddenly it didn’t feel quite so absurd after all. It was still amusing, but in a tragic sort of way; the realisation hit me that this is what the world has become these days.

One of the most frequent character traits on display is relentless, unnecessary positivity, even when it’s completely inappropriate. It’s not unusual to see serious issues being raised in meetings, with the only responses from around the table being a chorus of “Brilliant.” “Great.” “Well then.” “Marvellous.” and “Okay then.” Likewise, to my chagrin, I’ve caught myself using some of the character traits of intern Will, most notably his blind agreeing (and declaration that it’s “cool” and “no worries”) with everything that people say, only to admit that he didn’t actually hear what he just agreed to just a moment later.

While I find W1A pretty excruciating to watch — particularly when Jessica Hynes and her painfully millenial PR company “Perfect Curve” are on screen — it’s nonetheless rather compelling and almost reassuring in a strange sort of way: a viewer’s initial reaction to these seeming caricatures — their repetitiveness and their relentless, inappropriate cheerfulness — as them being absurd in some way is entirely deliberate. The writers of the show know how ridiculous and absurd the situation is, along with all the nonsense that goes on in modern corporate culture — which more often than not cares more about outward appearances than actually making life good for its employees and clients — and the show itself acts as a means of people who are tired of this aspect of modern life to come together, point and laugh, then perhaps go and have a little cry in the corner.

You’re not alone in hating the way the world has turned out, says W1A. We hate it too; we’ve just decided to laugh at it, because what’s the alternative?

1552: An American Workplace

Finally reached the end of the American incarnation of The Office today, and I was very pleased with how it all wrapped itself up. I was very pleasantly surprised with the series as a whole, in fact — though the early stages of the first series where it was literally nothing more than a word-for-word remake of the English version were… not poor, but disappointing; and the latter part of the complete run did perhaps drag on a little longer than it needed to. Still, the finale was good, and the nine seasons of episodes meant that by the end you have a very strong understanding of all the characters involved.

I liked the balance it struck between some genuinely touching stories and somewhat formulaic character comedy. Many of the characters in the show almost had a “catchphrase” — not literally, but an iconic means of behaving — but the show, on the whole, managed to ensure that these party tricks weren’t used so much that the people using them became one-dimensional joke machines. Angela’s prim and proper attitude was subverted by what happened to her in the later seasons with regard to her relationships, for example, while the seemingly alcoholic Meredith points out in the last episode that the side of her captured on film — the side that drank too much, frequently got her tits out and behaved completely inappropriately — was only part of the entire picture.

And this was part of the point, really. As a spoof “docudrama”, both the English and American versions of The Office play with the idea that it’s possible to steer a narrative that you have no external influence on through careful, selective editing and manipulation after the fact. It’s a common trick in reality TV; some shows even supposedly have disclaimers that you may not be portrayed entirely accurately if you appear on them, because the footage will be edited to fit the “script” rather than to give a truthful picture of what actually happened.

In the case of The Office, of course, the whole thing was scripted and planned out from start to finish, and it was, at times, hard to forget that side of things. Jim and Pam’s romance was a little too perfect at times — even with the several pieces of tension introduced in the final season. Similarly, characters such as Dwight, Erin and Andy were almost too much of a caricature to be truly “believable” at times; this certainly didn’t hurt the show if you treated it as an ongoing comedy drama rather than attempting to suspend your disbelief and treat it as an ongoing documentary, but it did lose a little of the magic that the English original had.

That said, thinking back to the English original version, David Brent was an obvious caricature that, on many occasions, behaved far too ridiculously to be “believable” as a real person. The difference is that alongside his obvious nonsense, everything else was a lot more understated. The Tim and Dawn possible romance was constantly left dangling — something the American version simply couldn’t do with the considerably larger number of episodes it boasted — and even when it seemed to “wrap things up” had a certain degree of ambiguity about it. Not so much with Jim and Pam — though again, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing; Jim and Pam’s relationship and how they overcame their difficulties and stuck together was a pleasantly heartwarming tale when all’s said and done.

On the whole, then, I really enjoyed the whole series, and the last couple of episodes were an excellent finale to the entire run. It’s a very distinct beast from the English original — I’m not sure if it’s better overall, but it certainly managed to maintain our attention for nine seasons of twentysomething episodes each rather than the original’s two seasons of six episodes each.

It’s a good watch, then; less dependent on outright uncomfortable comedy than the British original, and more focus on slow, gradual character development over time. The whole run could have possibly stood to be a couple of seasons shorter — things dragged a little in the middle — but it started and finished very strong, and I’m very glad I took the time to watch it from start to finish.

The question is, then, what’s next?

1430: Step Into My…

As I mentioned in a previous post, I’ve been watching the US incarnation of The Office recently. And I have to say, I’m a big fan — even more so than I liked the UK original, in fact. And I liked the original a lot — the three DVDs that made up the complete UK series in its entirety joined Spaced and Black Books as titles that were in my regular “rotation” for a while — things I’d watch over and over again when I just wanted to zone out and not really do anything.

I watched the first episode of the American The Office mostly out of curiosity. And the first episode disappointed me a lot, as it was little more than a word-for-word recreation of an episode of the original series.

However, clearly the team behind the new American version understood that this wasn’t good enough, because by the second episode, there was enough new stuff to distinguish it significantly from the original. And by partway through the first series, it’s a completely different show that never looks back.

For my money, it’s a better show, too. It still has the same kind of uncomfortable humour as its UK counterpart does, but it carries off better and more consistently. It makes better use of the “docudrama” format, with a lot more in the way of sidelong glances to the camera and otherwise acknowledging that the characters are being filmed going about their business, rather than gradually drifting into a relatively straightforward “comedy drama” format.

Michael Scott, the David Brent equivalent, is a much more sympathetic character, too. At least part of this may be due to the fact that he’s not played by Ricky Gervais. I personally have no issue with Ricky Gervais, but it’s sometimes difficult not to see him as just Ricky Gervais rather than David Brent. Perhaps it’s just because I’m not particularly familiar with Steve Carrell and there’s none of the associated baggage that comes with Ricky Gervais — whatever the case, I think Michael Scott works much better as a character than David Brent does, since although he’s obnoxious, stupid and utterly, utterly tone-deaf, there are numerous occasions when you will find yourself feeling genuinely bad for him.

The Tim-Dawn equivalent will-they-won’t-they romance between Jim and Pam is explored in much greater depth, too. The fact that nothing was ever really quite resolved in the UK version was one of its hallmarks, and indeed so far in the US version, nothing has become particularly “conclusive” as yet, but it’s already gone further than it did in the UK version. Their relationship is interesting, depicted — and rather familiar, too.

A real highlight is the supporting characters, though. In the UK Office, I’d be hard-pressed to name many of the supporting characters other than the fantastic Keith, of Scotch egg-eating fame. In the US version, meanwhile, each of the other characters is fleshed out rather nicely; we perhaps only see each of them for a few minutes in most episodes, but we start to get a sense of who they are and what they’re all about over time — and each of them has their own little story arc, too, which is nice. The focus is still very much on Michael Scott’s troubles as a boss and the relationship between Jim and Pam, but this bit of extra detail just helps to flesh everything out that little bit more.

I’m about into the third season or so now, I think, and I’m looking forward to seeing where it goes next. There’s certainly plenty of it to enjoy!

#oneaday, Day 153: Hopeless Romantic

I watched the finale of The Office for the first time in ages tonight. That’s the original UK version of The Office, for the curious, meaning that the finale was the second part of the series’ Christmas special. I am totally going to spoil the shit out of that episode, so if you’re one of the very few people who haven’t seen it before and care, you might want to skip this post.

The chemistry between Tim and Dawn is the centrepiece of The Office‘s narrative. Everyone remembers David Brent and his stupid Comic Relief dance, but it’s really a story about two people trying desperately to find one another and always seeming to have something in the way.

The tension between Tim and Dawn is built up throughout the course of the show’s two seasons marvellously. The pair of them hang out together a lot, they joke around, they share a mutual love of making office douchebag Gareth’s life a misery and it’s abundantly clear that both of them are completely smitten with one another. And yet neither of them are able to say the words to make it happen. Dawn because she has a fiancé (yes, that is the correct spelling for the male partner, I checked and everything) who is woefully inappropriate for her. Tim because despite his sweet nature, he lacks in self-confidence thanks to his life situation.

In fact, that’s not quite accurate. Throughout the course of the main series, Tim does ask Dawn out twice and she flat out says no. The most heartbreaking of these moments is at the end of the second season where Tim, in the middle of a “talking head” shot, speaking to the “documentary crew” who are supposedly filming the show, tears off his microphone, goes to tell Dawn how he really feels and gets knocked back. The audience don’t hear this exchange, we just see it through a window, partially obscured by a blind. It’s a genuinely heartbreaking moment to witness.

Throughout the series, Dawn in particular makes a point of touching Tim, whether it’s a light brush on the arm, or holding his face tenderly while she gives him a kiss “for Comic Relief”. Whatever she says out loud, her actions say something different, much louder.

So when she returns from Florida in the Christmas special, some years after the original two seasons, it’s clear that Tim still has feelings for her and wishes things had gone differently. Yet throughout the course of the two finale episodes, it becomes clear that Tim has no idea how to go about dealing with this situation, particularly as the fiancé is still on the scene and never far away from Dawn during their time together.

In what appears to be their final moment together, I really feel for Tim. He is talking to Dawn, clearly struggling for what to say. He does a big and obviously fake cough at one point, and stares after her as she leaves, looking around the office, obviously completely crushed inside but not wanting to show it at all.

And then a little while later, the real ending happens. Dawn, riding in the back seat of a taxi, her fiancé asleep in the front, opens her “Secret Santa” present, which it transpires is an incredibly thoughtful gift from Tim. It moves her to tears.

We cut back to Tim, who is still at the office’s Christmas party, obviously trying to have a good time and not really succeeding, when Dawn reappears unexpectedly, grabs him and kisses him. It’s such a beautiful moment and a wonderful feeling of “resolution” for the series. A genuinely happy ending.

In the meantime, while all this is happening, we’ve also seen the comically tragic figure of David Brent growing as a person more in the space of half an hour than he managed in three years thanks to a special someone. By the end of the whole thing, we have felt sympathy for someone who initially seemed to be odious and annoying; and we have felt hope for his redemption.

In short, the whole thing is a fine example of how to do a finale perfectly. Wrap up every little loose end and make it very clear that “This. Is. The. End.” And that doesn’t have to mean a main character dying, or the world ending, or anything like that. A simple resolution of the threads that have been running throughout the series is all that’s needed for a satisfying conclusion.

I love this ending for several reasons. Firstly, I just love a happy ending. Secondly, I feel for Tim, and Dawn for that matter. I’ve experienced the situation they’ve been in and know how difficult it can be, and how wonderful those few tiny little gestures can feel. To see two people who obviously deserve to be together finally get together is utterly heartwarming and never fails to bring a smile to my face. And it ends there – we don’t need to see “what happens next”, whether it works out, any of that – that’s the end of their story.

In case you hadn’t noticed, I am a sucker for a happy ending. Particularly a romantic happy ending.

There’s some games that have done this sort of thing well, too. The Persona series is particularly good at it thanks to the Social Link system that runs through the last two entries in the series. Each Social Link is a complete story in and of itself, with the player’s character being someone who is there for someone else during a period of change, growth or hardship. With the games centred on teenage life in Japan, sometimes this is as simple as a character growing up and learning something about themselves. At other times, it is about a burgeoning romance. At others still, it is about someone accepting a fate which is coming for them, like a terminal illness. But by far the most satisfying thing about those games was not necessarily reaching the end (though the endings to both are awesome) but reaching the resolution of these little mini-stories throughout. Seeing other people brought to a state of happiness by the actions (or simple presence) of another is a good feeling, and Persona, like The Office, plays on that pleasant feeling beautifully.

Did I seriously just compare Persona to The Office? That’s late-night writing for you. Oh well. There you have it!