Showing posts with label sitcoms. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sitcoms. Show all posts

Wednesday, 19 April 2017

Big Brother (Only Fools and Horses episode)

Recently, I have started re-watching episodes of the great British sitcom "Only Fools and Horses", and thought I would put together some articles on noteworthy or important episodes.

For the uninitiated, "Only Fools And Horses" followed the lives, loves, fortunes and misfortunes of the Trotter family from London. They eke out a living by market-trading and assorted black-market activities, engaging in various "schemes" which they hope will make them into millionaires.  The two main characters are Derek "Del Boy" Trotter (played by David Jason) and his younger brother Rodney (Nicholas Lyndhurst).

Starting from the beginning, let's take a look at the very first episode of the first series, entitled "Big Brother".....



The first thing which I noticed was the state of the characters. Del Boy in particular is nowhere near as rounded and subtle an entity in these early days as he would later become.  Del even displays signs of "sophistication", and there is not always the requisite dose of bathos to balance things out. Traits which would become familiar are under-cooked and undeveloped. There were rough edges to smooth over before the character found its comforting, natural and pleasing equilibrium. The same applies to the character of Trigger. The path to the "polished" characterizations would be uneven.

It is perhaps unsurprising that these early episodes were erratic in quality and atmosphere, as any ambitious brand new concept has to be given time to find its feet and evolve. Even the talents of David Jason and Nicholas Lyndhurst don't always transcend the issues.

The tone in these early days was darker and grittier than the later seasons, and the humour was not as homely. As others have observed, some of the dialogue, and its delivery, seemed forced at times, at odds with the seamlessness, freshness and naturalness which would later become one of the hallmarks of "Only Fools and Horses".

Although the plot of this opening episode ostensibly concerns a batch of "dodgy" briefcases, it is really a vehicle for introducing us to some of the elements of the "situation" in the sitcom, and to the relationship between Del and Rodney in particular. Bits of exposition and back-story are liberally sprinkled amongst the narrative.

"Big Brother" invokes one of the strands which permeates the show through all its incarnations - Rodney's yearning to escape from the shadow of Del, to achieve more independence, in this case by running away. However, Rodney usually ends up returning to "the fold".  By the same token, Del, although on the surface confident and self-reliant, is somehow incomplete and lacking in zest without his brother as his sidekick. Expediency and brotherly love both have a bearing on this.

The "Grandad" character, so beautifully played by Lennard Pearce, hits the ground running, fully formed, more than the other participants, partly because of the nature of the actor's performance, and partly because the Grandad persona was less complicated and intricate.

Making some allowances, this is still quite a weak and unsatisfying episode, not as watchable even as some of the other episodes in the first season, which betray more of the OFAH charm and depth. This is "Only Fools and Horses" in raw, incipient, prototype form.

You would have been hard pressed in 1981 to envisage it achieving classic and culturally iconic status in the UK. It must have seemed like something which might be confined to a cult following or a niche. "Big Brother" is still worth seeing, for curiosity value, and as a measure of just how far John Sullivan and his creation traveled in the years which followed.




Saturday, 12 December 2015

The Likely Lads (1976) - movie review

In the 1970s and early 1980s there were lots of cinematic spin-offs from British television sitcoms, and the artistic quality of these projects was variable to say the least. One of the better of these spin-offs was "The Likely Lads" from 1976, starring Rodney Bewes as Bob Ferris and James Bolam as Terry Collier.

The original "Likely Lads" TV series from the 1960s followed the fortunes of Bob and Terry as young men, and the follow-up "Whatever Happened To The Likely Lads" picked up the story when they had reached the brink of their thirties, at the time of Terry's return from a stint in the Army.

This film appears to be set a couple of years after the end of the timescale of "Whatever Happened To The Likely Lads", with Bob going through some kind of emotional, existential crisis. Indeed, the central themes of the movie are "there must be more to life than this" and "where has the past gone?", universally understood sentiments which engage the viewer. Times change, but our own routine becomes and remains tedious, and we ask whether the grass is greener elsewhere.

Even more so than the second television series, this film screams "Seventies!", from the fashions, to the backdrops, to the cultural references and the social mores. Added to this are Bob's Vauxhall Chevette, the boutique and the predilection for caravanning!

As ever, the writing of Dick Clement and Ian La Frenais drives proceedings charmingly. The storyline is a good, solid one, with a nicely conceived ending which inverts the conclusion of the original 60s series. The writers specialized in extracting great comedy from mundane, everyday things, and the eccentricities of the tenets of English life. The script of this film, to me, celebrates nostalgia whilst at the same time hinting that there is no easy escape from the pressures of the present. The grass is not necessarily greener, and we sometimes envy the lifestyles of our peers whilst overlooking the pitfalls of those lifestyles and the virtues of our own hard-won stability and security...

One thing which does not feature that prominently in this movie is the tension between Bob and Terry's relative social aspirations, an angle which dominated parts of the 1970s TV series. The emphasis here is on more elusive emotional and spiritual concerns. That said, the characterizations are still endearing and natural.

Rodney Bewes does a fine job in this film of portraying the angst-ridden and preoccupied Bob. The character has moved on from the "upwardly mobile" persona which he exuded during the second TV show. His life has reached a disconcerting and bewildering plateau.

The settings are different from "Whatever Happened To...", but I see this as a strength, as it helps to endow the movie with an identity of its own. The pleasant location shots of the North East England countryside and coastline also contribute to an overall visual appeal, and the "Whitley Bay" sequences are truly evocative!

There are some fine individual scenes, most notably the first one in the boutique, which kick-starts the central portion of the movie. As ever, the most effective comedic exchanges between Bob and Terry are tinged with poignancy and sadness, such as the conversation on the ship near the end.

To my present-day self, the overall effect of this picture is to induce sorrow and regret at a period gone forever, when life was simpler, or so we like to believe. It was released during my childhood, and the imagery brings back fond memories. This kind of nostalgia leavens the sterility and uncertainty of the present.

Opinion of this film among critics has been mixed, but I really like it. It has charm as a period piece, quite apart from the richness of the writing, the humour and the acting. Fine entertainment, and rather heart-warming...




Wednesday, 19 March 2014

Whatever Happened To The Likely Lads?

Just recently, whilst seeking inspiration and emotional sustenance, I dug out my DVDs of "Whatever Happened To The Likely Lads", the classic BBC sitcom from the 1970s. The works of Dick Clement and Alan La Frenais are always a nice refuge, because of the depth and richness of their writing.

Apart from the quality of the scripts and the acting, the major strength of this show was its premise, Terry Collier returning from five years in the Army to find his best friend Bob Ferris immersed in his career, and on the verge of domestic bliss with Thelma. The tension and comic potential inherent in this scenario are harnessed to the full. However, it is the particular methods of the writers which created the real magic.



The humour is very British, but the subject matter is universal.  Much of the dialogue deals with the problems of leaving behind one's youth, and the conflicting attractions of domesticity, independence and carefree indolence. The show also examines issues of class, snobbery and social structures in a very natural and perceptive way, pointing out what really happens, not the version which tends to be projected by those with some axe to grind. The absence of preaching and moralizing is an advantage, and although contentious issues are not overlooked, they are not allowed to overshadow the levity.

A real asset of Clement and La Frenais' writing is the capacity to be honest and realistic about social mores and hang-ups, and to extract great and enduring comedy from it. Moreover, in addition to the laughs, the situation and the stories have the power to provoke reflection on the part of the viewer. The ground which is covered is that with which real people can identify, because it is rooted in everyday existence - social climbing, thwarted aspirations, nostalgia, family, friendships. This makes it timeless, like few other comedies of its era. Only the hairstyles and the fashions have dated!

The scripts are delightfully homely and organic, conveying the vitality, eccentricity and occasional absurdity of British life, its contradictions and foibles. Much of the material concentrates on the dichotomy between the less complicated worlds of childhood and young adulthood, and the practicalities and harsh but inescapable realities and responsibilities of being "grown up". Much of this is encapsulated in the episodes  "Storm in A Tea Chest" and "The Ant and the Grasshopper" - the battle to maintain a balance in the face of commitments, priorities and pressures.

The subject of friendship is also explored;its limitations, its virtues and its constraints, and how it evolves and becomes more complicated and occasionally burdensome.

If this wonderful show reminds me of anything these days, it is that whatever our idealism and nostalgia, the world of adult existence is one long series of compromises. Many of us either never fully embrace this, or realize it too late....



Thursday, 6 September 2012

Going Straight

Spin-offs or sequels to celebrated situation comedies have a chequered history, to put it mildly.  However, one which merits some attention and praise is Going Straight, which followed on from the immense Porridge.

The basic premise of Going Straight was the struggle of Norman Stanley Fletcher, played by Ronnie Barker, to re-adjust and reintegrate into society following his release from Slade Prison.  However, to me the series, brief though its tenure was, was so much more than that.  Direct comparisons with its illustrious predecessor were also unfair, for several reasons.

The "situation" was one of the prime factors which made  Porridge such an endearing and effectual situation comedy.  This element is not as pervasive or concentrated in Going Straight, the arena being the big, bad outside world, and not the confines of a prison. This would inevitably mean that the follow-up would seem more disparate by comparison.  It does have pronounced virtues and hallmarks of its own, though.

The tone is markedly less outwardly comedic, and more dark, than Porridge, with much more in the way of poignancy and pathos.  I will admit that Going Straight is not always a comfortable watch, because of the predicament in which Norman Stanley Fletcher finds himself, and the vulnerability which this evokes.  The certainties of incarcertation have been stripped away, and he is at the mercy of the more varied and unpredictable vagaries of wider society.  The priority in prison was short-term bucking of the system, whereas on the outside one perhaps has to accept that the oppressive forces are too diffuse and powerful.


One of the great strengths of the series is its subject matter, which transcends time, and never grows stale.  Temptation, honour, dignity, perseverance, resolve, integrity and resilience are all tested and scrutinised. Despite the 1970s cultural references which abound in Going Straight, the themes raised are still startlingly relevent today.

The subject matter is, of course, expertly collated and deployed by the peerless writing team of Dick Clement and Ian La Frenais.  Their scripts for Going Straight were sharp and fresh, and possessed their uniquely appealing combination of warmth, incisiveness and empathy.

Of course, one of the departures of Going Straight was its wider diversity of major characters.  In this respect, the performance of Patricia Brake as Fletch's daughter Ingrid was particularly impressive, if under-rated. Torn between love and sympathy for her father, concern for the welfare of her wider family, and a sense of right and wrong.

To varying degrees, the six episodes chronicle the never-ending struggles of life, the ongoing battle to balance expediency with morality and integrity. By and large the righteous honest course wins out, if only just.  This ensures that some hope does at least emerge from the somewhat gloomy tenor.

We are left with a keen sense of the underlying decency of most ordinary people, trying constantly to "do the right thing", often when confronted by insurmountable odds.

One of the most intriguing sub-plots is the apparent role reversal involving Fletch and his erstwhile cellmate Lennie Godber, played by Richard Beckinsale. In prison, Fletch was the mentor, but Godber, with the advantage of youth, finds it much easier to adapt to "civilian" life.  The world has moved on, and Fletch feels left behind. In striving to overcome these obstacles, he feels tempted to resort to skullduggery in order to put himself on a more solid footing. The old chestnut about "ends" and "means" rears its head.  This time it is Godber, and other younger characters, who are dispensing the guidance and advice.

During the series, optimism and promise flicker fitfully for Fletch, as he searches for inspiration and direction.  He tries his best, but faces cynicism from others, some of which is born of a lack of understanding.  At least the series ended on a positive note, as he curtails involvement in a criminal enterprise in order to be at Ingrid and Lennie's wedding.

In portraying the changing role and fortunes of Fletcher, Ronnie Barker displayed his real versatility and mastery of characterisation. 

When engineering the "set-piece" scenarios in the series, plausibility was stretched at times, with several coincidences, and old acquaintances of Fletch coming out of the woodwork in a relatively brief timescale.  However, to me this never felt really contrived, and the quality of the writing and acting always tended to win out and prevail.

Of course, further series of Going Straight were precluded by the tragic death of Richard Beckinsale in 1979.  It is intriguing to extrapolate things, and imagine how the story could have panned out. Fletch's efforts and challenges, and brushes with temptation, would doubtless have continued.  Perhaps Godber's own situation might have altered, and the "balance of power" between himself and Fletch shifted once more?

Whatever, the speculation, my view remains that Going Straight is worthy of inclusion in a list of great British sitcoms of its era.  If anything, it gets better with the passing of time...