With only three sketches (plus a tiny Gladiators
skit as a coda), this feels meandering and overindulged to me. The big House
Of Eliott parody initially scores some proper Acorn Antiques-style
laughs (Saunders' troubles with opening doors and hanging her coat, the
telegraphed plotlines, superfluous characters, the reused vintage car and
incongruous penny-farthing), but then they all get repeated several times...
The eventual appearance of the real House Of Eliott actresses,
demonstrating what good sports they are, is the kind of 'celebrity chums'
television that I find hard to tolerate. Comedy about the media reflecting
itself rather than comedy drawn from life itself.
Some stray thoughts; mostly pop and old British television drama, bits of memoir perhaps.
Showing posts with label French & Saunders. Show all posts
Showing posts with label French & Saunders. Show all posts
Sunday, 24 March 2019
Thursday, 21 March 2019
A Comedy On This Day: French & Saunders (22 March 1990)
I think that
the duo may have been at their peak with this third series. By this point they
had a sure sense of what distinctively they could achieve with a sketch show,
with less of the aimless drifting that mars the early episodes while not yet
falling into the overindulged celebrity trap that increasingly irritated me
later on. I was in the first year of sixth form when this went out, and I can't
remember any other show being so universally popular, with both fellow pupils
and teachers.
I think that the part that resonated most with my peers was the Star Test Bros interview, probably because of the worthy target (the hapless briefly-popular Goss brothers being both teen-orientated culture and something that we would have all felt was beneath us). Watching it now, I'm mainly interested in the very tight-looking facial prosthetics that the performers have been squashed into. With much of this episode's comedy, I find the details much funnier than the ostensibly amusing scenarios - Saunders' Luke Goss dropping her drumsticks, or the (slightly disturbing) visual effect in Kirsty MacColl and Simon Brint's duet of 'Something Stupid' of both singers’ reflections being superimposed over each other's eyes.
The extended Whatever Happened To Baby Jane? parody is one of the best they did, partly because of the pleasure of recognising their takes of Davis and Crawford, but mostly because the original piece had such a distinctly camp Grand Guignol style that it didn't need to be extended very much to become overly comic. The audience laughter over this filmed piece is a bit of a shame, as overt laughter at certain jokes detracts from the greater subtlety of the whole conception.
The sketch that I (and my parents, who I watched this with in 1990) most enjoyed at the time still strikes me as being the best bit now. Its a scene of an editorial conference between the two refined ladies in charge of a popular mid-market women's magazine, and - Hurray! - for once French and Saunders aren't parodying something else or impersonating other celebrities or doing recurring characters. The skit both celebrates and skewers the vacuity of the magazine ("Sue Lawley on flans? "Too spiky"), bombarding the viewer with closely-observed fine detail of the all-too-convincing magazine, discussed by two well-drawn characters.
I think that the part that resonated most with my peers was the Star Test Bros interview, probably because of the worthy target (the hapless briefly-popular Goss brothers being both teen-orientated culture and something that we would have all felt was beneath us). Watching it now, I'm mainly interested in the very tight-looking facial prosthetics that the performers have been squashed into. With much of this episode's comedy, I find the details much funnier than the ostensibly amusing scenarios - Saunders' Luke Goss dropping her drumsticks, or the (slightly disturbing) visual effect in Kirsty MacColl and Simon Brint's duet of 'Something Stupid' of both singers’ reflections being superimposed over each other's eyes.
The extended Whatever Happened To Baby Jane? parody is one of the best they did, partly because of the pleasure of recognising their takes of Davis and Crawford, but mostly because the original piece had such a distinctly camp Grand Guignol style that it didn't need to be extended very much to become overly comic. The audience laughter over this filmed piece is a bit of a shame, as overt laughter at certain jokes detracts from the greater subtlety of the whole conception.
The sketch that I (and my parents, who I watched this with in 1990) most enjoyed at the time still strikes me as being the best bit now. Its a scene of an editorial conference between the two refined ladies in charge of a popular mid-market women's magazine, and - Hurray! - for once French and Saunders aren't parodying something else or impersonating other celebrities or doing recurring characters. The skit both celebrates and skewers the vacuity of the magazine ("Sue Lawley on flans? "Too spiky"), bombarding the viewer with closely-observed fine detail of the all-too-convincing magazine, discussed by two well-drawn characters.
Thursday, 7 February 2019
A Comedy On This Day: French & Saunders (8 February 1996)
This should be interesting. 1996 must have
been about the height of their popularity, but after I'd stopped
watching. Seeing it now is an ideal test of the instinctive prejudices that
meant that I didn't see it at the time.
I think that it was the combination of a perceived self-satisfied quality about them - combined with the amount of emotional investment that so much of the British public had in them, as much for what they represented as celebrities as their actual comedy - that put me off. I was largely right, though there are still enough funny bits to make it worth watching.
By far the worst section is the v-e-r-y l-o-n-g parody, a mash-up of Judge Judy as populated by characters from Star Trek. The production values are right, but it’s a long stretch of them and their comedy friends doing funny business (like going "woosh" whenever the doors open) rather than a tight, pertinent, sketch.
I think that it was the combination of a perceived self-satisfied quality about them - combined with the amount of emotional investment that so much of the British public had in them, as much for what they represented as celebrities as their actual comedy - that put me off. I was largely right, though there are still enough funny bits to make it worth watching.
By far the worst section is the v-e-r-y l-o-n-g parody, a mash-up of Judge Judy as populated by characters from Star Trek. The production values are right, but it’s a long stretch of them and their comedy friends doing funny business (like going "woosh" whenever the doors open) rather than a tight, pertinent, sketch.
Another long
sketch is the pair playing two soppy brides planning a double wedding. Here the
details are funny and the initial effect of their characterisations is
impressive, but something goes a bit wrong when the two women have to fall out
and be reconciled. The emotions are rushed and the performers corpse a little,
and I start to feel that it would benefit from more guidance from a third
party.
The best part of the show is the final sketch, a The Making of Pride & Prejudice-type feature with F & S as the two posh homeowners who unwittingly continually disrupt the filming on their estate. Rosemary Leach is fantastic in this, not only when playing herself but especially in the disrupted scenes from the fake serial, which she always manages to make wholly convincing but just pushed a little further to show how they can look absurd. It’s the best-judged comic performance in the show, and it’s from an actor rather than a comedian.
I am curious to identify which bits of additional material were written by the young Mel & Sue. I'm fairly sure that I can tell, but who knows?
The best part of the show is the final sketch, a The Making of Pride & Prejudice-type feature with F & S as the two posh homeowners who unwittingly continually disrupt the filming on their estate. Rosemary Leach is fantastic in this, not only when playing herself but especially in the disrupted scenes from the fake serial, which she always manages to make wholly convincing but just pushed a little further to show how they can look absurd. It’s the best-judged comic performance in the show, and it’s from an actor rather than a comedian.
I am curious to identify which bits of additional material were written by the young Mel & Sue. I'm fairly sure that I can tell, but who knows?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)



