The Brits Explain the Subprime Mortgage Crisis
February 1, 2009 Leave a comment
John Bird and John Fortune: incisive, weak-chinned and devastating:
Protagonists at large
February 1, 2009 Leave a comment
John Bird and John Fortune: incisive, weak-chinned and devastating:
December 8, 2008 Leave a comment
This reflects my frame of mind after trying to write Part 1 of Flirting. Tomorrow I will make a return to language, and tackle Part 2 with renewed vigor. In the meantime, I leave you with this delicious tidbit, in which thoughts are held, ideals are bibbled, and Hugh Laurie thinks Stephen Fry said “vulva.”
October 15, 2008 2 Comments
Dear CF,
You’re so right about the haziness of the impression PS leaves behind. Maybe it’s because it’s so conversational—things aren’t punctuated even as much as they are in the BBC Office, which gives Brent the Talking Head moments to really showcase his one-liners. Here, though, it’s sort of a delicious stream-of-consciousness sequence in which one delightful discomfort quickly displaces the one that came before. You’re enjoying Mark’s fantasy of crushing the small scary boys outside (why, incidentally, do they call him Clean Shirt?) when BOOM! you’re on the floor looking up into Toni’s face, disfigured with rage over her failure to get Alpen. Next thing you know, you’re watching her eat, her forehead shiny and enlarged, and somewhere, a poo retreats.
I share most of your favorite moments, and thought a few were worth reproducing here.
Mark Moments:
Super Hans Moment:
Jeremy Moments:
Great Exchange #1:
The grocery list, which I must reproduce in full:
Mark’s optimism is so touching here, and his disappointment when he says the following is an instance, I think, of your point that their delivery is sometimes nothing short of brilliant:
Great Exchange #2
Scenes:
Pyramid-Selling Great Exchanges:
Later, Jez in the bathtub, Mark sitting on toilet:
I think Episode 2 might be my favorite.
Mark’s incredible range between know-it-all high-horsiness and humiliated paralysis is so real–they strike an amazing balance between the impulses that make somebody a righteous prig and a sad little ball of insecurity who regularly imagines that “nothing this bad has happened to anyone, ever,” and switches in the next second to “this is the best thing that has happened to anyone ever!” Which might in the end be about wheat toast. Mark’s non sequiturs and small delights are so much more satisfying than Jez’s because he wants to resist them so badly. His lapses of self-consciousness are so pleasant; how nice, we think, that he forgot himself and actually enjoyed something for a second.
I like, too, that nothing that works for Jez works for Mark. Jez’s whole system—“maybe if I don’t think about it, it didn’t happen,” and vice versa—is based on a sort of anarchic splattering of everything with Jezness in the hope that some of it sticks, and some of it does.
Why is it that Mark is actually comfortable, relaxed, even kind of witty with the goth girl? Is it her youth? Her gothness? Her evident willingness to accept him just as he is and evaluate him according to his own miserable standard and still hang out with him?
Fondly,
Millicent
October 9, 2008 1 Comment
Dear Millicent,
So, I am not yet through all of Peep Show season 1, but in my half review, I remembered how the first time I watched the show, it made for a particular syndrome for me. I would watch and laugh aloud, sure that they were some of the funniest things I had seen in awhile, and then not be able to remember any of the punchlines. It is almost as if Peep Show is simply too much. We get the effect of the drug, the afterglow, but the actual stimuli is more of a blur than anything apropriate to later recall in conversation (perhaps like orgasms or dreams). This was, of course, until I started watching this time with pencil and paper in hand. These, so far, are things that have, as they say, cracked me up:
Why is this glee so sharp? Is it because they handle the POV so well, and the timing as deftly as Gervais and Merchant delivered in The Office? Is it because they nail anxiety and delusion is a way that Seinfeld only hinted at? Is it because the props and references are painfully, wonderfully exact? Is it because they say “pedo” all the time, and there is a character named Big Suze?
Like crack, as Super Hans (why not Super Hands? it wouldn’t not make sense for his character) would say, it has a more-ish taste.
I kinda love all of them, and will do my duty and watch more pronto,
CF
October 4, 2008 2 Comments
Dear CF,
I have binged on Peep Show during this past week, and have watched nearly all of the five series. I find it addictive and pleasant, despite the really quite incredible unattractiveness of the people and lifestyles concerned. I feel like it’s sort of an inverse of the The Office. This is what the show might have been like if the documentarians ignored the office life and followed Ricky Gervais around at home.
That flat is among the dreariest, most depressing and utterly beige things I have ever seen on television. It’s appalling and depressing and yet so nondescript that I can’t call to mind a SINGLE feature of their living room. The kitchen is more definite.
Mark’s obsession with history stuff is so unappealing and so real; his entire persona is brilliantly crafted, I think, right down to the worry about his misshapen scrotum (though not, he explicitly states, his penis). The homosocial stuff is dealt with so directly; I love that Mark spends a lot of time considering whether he might be gay because of his man-crush on Allen Johnson.
The way the show handles story arc between episodes is bizarre, and more “real” in its effect than reality TV could ever possibly be.
Can we talk about this as we would a movie? I nominate it for Nitpicking.
Fondly,
Millicent