http://www.scotsman.com/lifestyle/tv-and-radio/yule-either-love-or-hate-it-christmas-tv-guide-1-2705383
It's Christmas time, and there's no
need to be afraid. Not my words, but the words of Messrs Geldof and
“Ure”, who evidently didn't have the Celebrity Juice
Christmas special in mind when they spoke so rashly back
in 1984. No, they were thinking about famine in Africa. And Celebrity
Juice wouldn't be invented – or rather, torn from the bowels of
Hell - for another 24 years. But the point still stands.
I love Christmas. I also love TV. You
don't have to be Einstein or Daphne from Eggheads to arrive at
the implied conclusion of that statement. But Christmas TV is often
about as much fun as an armed tax audit. Then again, it can often be
wonderful. Would you like me to scratch my brains to present a few
examples of both? Oh, all right then. Seeing as it's Christmas.
BLACKADDER'S
CHRISTMAS CAROL
The key things to remember when
making Christmas specials are A) Please don't make one if your show
is appalling at the best of times, B) For our Lord Baby Jesus' sake,
don't forget to set it at Christmas, and C) When in doubt, give
Dickens a shout.
Chaz's immortal A Christmas Carol
has weathered so many adaptations and wacky permutations, you'd think
it'd be as knackered as Marley's ghost by now. But unless it's placed
into the hands of a maniac, I honestly think you can't go wrong with
a lively variation on the story of Scrooge. Just ask Bill Murray,
Doctor Who and The Muppets. And spare a kindly thought for
Richard Curtis and Ben Elton, who in 1988 hit upon the inspired idea
of subverting A Christmas Carol and their notoriously
foul-hearted Blackadder character.
The conceit is simple yet delightful:
unlike every other member of his lineage, Victorian moustache
proprietor Ebenezer Blackadder is the kindliest man in the world. So
naturally, everyone he meets takes advantage of him. In an attempt to
enliven Ebenezer's lonely existence, Robbie Coltrane's Spirit of
Christmas tries to remind him of how wonderful he is by showing him
the wretchedness of his relatives throughout history. Inevitably,
however, Ebenezer gradually comes to admire their wit and cunning,
and ultimately reverts to egregious type.
Then at the height of their powers,
Curtis and Elton were astute enough to realise that the best comedy
Christmas specials give the viewers something a little bit different
and, well, special.
It's all too easy to assume that
everyone at home will be too sozzled and indulgent to notice or care
about a drop in quality. Just setting the action at Christmas and
chucking in a few tired cracker gags won't do. And that's why
Blackadder's Christmas Carol is easily as funny as any of the
more celebrated episodes – it was made by people who, in those days
at least, always put quality first. It feels like a real Christmas treat,
while losing none of the sharp wit that made the regular series the
classic that it is.
You can enjoy it for the first or
umpteenth time on Christmas Day on BBC2 at 8pm.
MRS
BROWN'S BOYS
In a way, this defiantly
old-fashioned adult panto is TV's brightest emblem of the true spirit
of Christmas, seeing as the only reasoned response to watching it is
a solemnly uttered “Jesus Christ.”
The argument in favour is that it
appeals to an audience who've been ignored for too long, namely those
overlooked millions who shriek with mirth at the very idea of a man
in drag saying rude words and brandishing a vibrator. I can't argue
with its popularity, but I can argue that it's a crass, depressing,
lazy shriek of badly written garbage.
The only thing that could do more
damage to our beloved comedy tradition of cross-dressing is if George
Osborne personally demolished a trail of orphanages while dressed as
Carmen Miranda.
Anyway, the BBC, in an extraordinary
act of cruelty, have foisted not one but TWO Mrs Brown Christmas
specials on us this year (Christmas Eve and Boxing Day, BBC1). And
wouldn't you know it, they're atrocious.
I'll give Mrs Brown's
limelight-hogging alter ego Brendan O'Carroll one grudging point for
at least trying to make them as Christmassy as possible. So, Mrs B
writes a nativity play in which she stars as the Virgin Mary. There's
a bit of slapstick business with a Christmas tree, which is
practically de rigueur. It's not at all funny, of course, but it's
there.
Otherwise it's dismal business as
usual, with every piss-weak gag painfully signposted from miles away,
before the whole thing degenerates into a horribly cynical puddle of
forced, fake, unearned pathos. The Christmas Eve episode actually
ends with Mrs B eulogising her dead dad to the sentimental strains of
a music box. And this following 25 minutes of crude slapstick and
fecks-a-plenty during which she's portrayed as a thoroughly
unsympathetic ratbag. It doesn't make a lick of sense, this show:
they'd be better off calling it Mrs Brown's Schizoid Circus of
Doom.
Fundamentally, I'd like to see
Brendan O'Carroll introduce the Christmas institution of announcing
your retirement from comedy.
OUTNUMBERED
The family sitcom is, of course,
perfectly suited to a Yuletide makeover. Shows such as C4's Friday
Night Dinner, which is set almost entirely within the confines of
a single family home, practically demand that at least one episode be
set at Christmas.
The inaugural special from Friday
Night Dinner (Christmas Eve, 10:30pm) is pretty successful, in
that it's consistently amusing – it too involves a bit of comic
business with a Christmas tree – and revolves around an awkward
extended family gathering where everything goes pudding-shaped. This
is practically a staple of Christmas-themed sitcom episodes, used in
everything from The Royle Family (back on Christmas Day) to
Peep Show and Outnumbered.
Sadly, our sole visit to the Brockman
household this year (Christmas Eve, 9:35pm) suggests that the
inevitable has finally happened: the young actors who play Ben and
Karen are now too mature and self-aware for the comedy to work. Ben
is alarmingly deep-voiced and large, and Karen – one of
Outnumbered's most vital components – has hardly any screen
time at all.
When she does appear,
she comes across as petulant and aloof, rather than the deadpan
sprite of yore. If you remove the maddening charm of Ben and Karen
from the equation, then Outnumbered doesn't have much of a
reason to exist. I suspect the fifth series next year will be the
last.
Speaking of disappointing
Christmases...
EASTENDERS
That Walford is at its most miserable
at Christmas has become such a cliché, the most subversive thing
they could do now is present a festive episode where everyone has a
thoroughly lovely time and nothing bad or dramatic happens at all.
Why, they could even fill it with loads of those hilarious comedy
set-pieces the show is renowned for.
Every year the writers try to outdo
the gloom and catastrophe of years gone by. The ultimate EastEnders
Christmas would probably involve the residents of Walford being wiped
out in a nuclear attack, except for lone survivor Phil Mitchell,
who'd spend the entire episode wandering around the square in a
charred paper hat screaming “WHY?!” while swigging from a bottle
of contaminated vodka. Closing shot: Phil gently sob-singing God
Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen to himself while rocking back and forward
on his haunches in the remains of the Queen Vic. The closing credits
play out over eerie, howling silence. BBC announcer: “And now on
BBC One, time for some Christmas cheer with Miranda!”
Is that what you want? Because that's
what you'll get one day.
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