Turning pro in less than 362 days!

Hopefully turning pro in less than six thousand three hundred and eighty nine days!

Thursday, 10 November 2011

Life's Too Short - a Real Time Review (may contain a shitload of spoilers)

Ok, I know it's a bit on the late side, but I'm finally get round to watching the latest offering from everyone's favourite cunt, Ricky Gervais.

To celebrate I thought I would do a real time, stream of consciousness review of episode one.

What am I expecting? Well, we all know that Gervais has based his entire career on the scene from Spinal Tap containing the immortal line-

"It's such a fine line between stupid and... clever".

Remorselessly mined with the interpretation 'do what you like, as long as you angle the presentation so that the joke aimed at the disadvantaged is thrust back on to the audience in an ironic act of genius'. Oh yes Gervais, we fucking sussed you long ago, matey boy.

Therefore, I'm expecting scenes such as this one, set at the circus. A convicted pedophile is in the audience - Stephen Merchant recognizes him from the paper and gets a good view, owing to his hilarious height, and calls out to the police, who charge over, hoping to nab him before he can get his mittens on. But there's no way - he's practically out the door.

It's over to Warwick Davis - the only man who can save the day. He selflessly and hilariously climbs his diminutive frame into a cannon and fires himself across the stage, aiming to bring down the molesting bastard.

Or maybe I'm doing Ricky a disservice, and I should stress at this point that everything he has ever done I have found fucking hilarious. Anyway, enough bollocks, let's watch this bitch!

Starts out with Warwick walking through a city centre, with some cuts of films he's been in - a cut out ewok - quick flash of a Princess Leia poster - my God, I forgot how good those bangers were. Back in a minute.

Ah, Warwick is playing an arrogant son of a bitch version of himself - what a fantastic switch! The wee guy with the big ego - let's knock him down a peg or two using visually humiliating imagery- shouldn't be too hard, he's already most of the way there, eh Ricky! BAAAAM! If you want me on your writing team, I am currently available. Unless I'm working the checkout, of course.

Two and a half minutes in and he's still introducing himself-  man, he must be sooooo conceited - oh hang on - he's getting out of his massive Range Rover - yep - he's fallen out HA HA HA HA!! Fuckin' brilliant! He deserved that, the tiny arrogant prick!

Five minutes in, and Warwick mentions being fired out of a cannon - can it be? Is that telegraphing a later scene?

Warwick is good, very good. He's in his big swanky house, still introducing himself. Points out the heels in the hall are not his, good one, points out his wedding photo - "Sue had to lose a lot of weight to wear that dress. Not as much as I'd have liked, but enough to get into her dead mum's dress". Fuck me, I bet that scene took three days - they must've been dying on set.

In the kitchen, even his dog, Chewbacca ignores him, oh no! His wife comes in - oh no they're separated - he shouldn't even be in the house! She claims he left her, thinking he could do better in Hollywood, he denies it, whilst stressing that he could have done better if he had wanted to. His character is starting to sound quite familiar...

Blah, blah, wife gags, he's Manning Lite now. CUT TO:

He's outside some flats or something, walking up some steps. Oh no! He can't reach the buzzers! A ha ha ha! He gets a passer by to buzz it for him. Oh, it's Ricky Gervais's flat - and he can't hear him down there - he thinks there's nobody there - Warwick laughs it off. Glad someone can. He gets a passer-by, who happens to be black, to speak into the intercom for him. But he's unsympathetic -he's never heard of him - that's not right - they are both minorities aren't they - good one Ricky, keeping it real and totally counter expectation there. Some comedy gold here, culminating with the passer by announcing Warwick as Warren Davis - fuckin' A!

Inside the flat and Ricky Gervais is sat at a swanky glass table with his comedy sidekick Stephen Merchandise (see how funny it is when you get the name slightly wrong - it implies a total lack of respect on my part towards Mr Merchant!) Curiously, Ricky comes across as a right cunt - he doesn't think much of Warwick - thought he made the buzzer high enough to put him off coming round. Warwick has a thick enough skin to brush it off. He comes clean - he needs work - have they got any? No. Talk about the impending divorce and Warwick starts discussing their sex life - how he always saw to her needs - TooMuchInformation Warwick - who would want that image in their heads - there's only one thing worse than an image of a dwarf fucking a respectably attractive normally sized woman - and that's a thousand Miss World winners eating shit out of a single, gigantic cup.

Oh, he bumps into that cunt from Eastenders who was in Extras - awesome! Is he going to sing? Not yet, no.But he is doing Ricky and Steve's laundry. Very good. Moving on.

Hires an assistant or something. Has no choice -she's the only candidate!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Next, and to his accountant's office. Jesus, this guy is a cunt, too! Who would've thought it - he is a shit, apathetic anus - didn't see that coming, fuck! He can't even do simple math - bloody brilliant! Absolutely disingenuous, predictable, forced, humourless crap.

Back at Ricky and Steve's office, to more resistance. Oh, hang on - here comes Liam Neeson for a cameo - he wants to be a stand up and he needs their help. He's anal in this universe and he's made a list of things he wants to cover - he claims that's why he was cast in Schindler's List: -
"Steven, I love making lists"
"That's exactly what I'm looking for" replies Spielberg.

HAA! That is a genuine laugh, by the way - that is a bloody good gag, and Neeson's dead pan delivery is spot on. They run through some improvised comedy - each time Neeson brings it back to AIDS, contracting it from an African prostitute, or T*& C$%^&* a bleeped out Hollywood actor. This is a very funny scene - but Warwick is marginalised and it feels like an aside.

Now we're back to Warwick, packing his suitcase, preparing for single life, or something, and we're expected to laugh at him using the expression dipping my wick. In women, he makes clear - he is not a homosexual.

He leaves the house, dragging his suitcase along the driveway and we're done.

Almost certainly.

No comments:

Post a Comment