The Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin

If you grew up in the 70s and your parents were proud Angophiles with an anti-establishment sense of humor, then you need to come to my house for a cup of tea because you and I will become fast friends before the Earl Grey cools. I know this because I feel certain your parents let you stay up to watch Monty Python at age 9 and likely even let you study another BBC counterculture classic The Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin. This brilliant piece of Britcom, although lesser-known in the U.S., shaped more of my world view than I would ever care to admit and that's why I feel a need to promote it here, for those of you who haven't yet had the pleasure.

A three-season series launched in 1976, the first season tells the story of 46-year old Reginald Perrin, a senior sale executive with Sunshine Desserts, a company that sells and promotes flavored ices. A normal-enough man with a normal-enough life, Perrin slowly starts to lose his sanity in the face of continuing his solidly uneventful and mind-numbing suburban commuter routine. He rebels against normality -- almost unintentionally at first -- fantasizing quietly inside his own head about breaking free -- and then openly, in front of friends, colleagues and family. Unable to accept another day of inventing new ways to boast about flavored ice, he craves escape, but - like nearly everyone else in his circumstance - he just doesn't quite know how to manage it. He starts with a standard mid-life crisis agenda -- talking back to his boss unexpectedly and having an affair with his secretary -- but even that starts to feel sadly pedestrian. And so, in a fit of desperation, he fakes his own suicide -- leaving his clothes on an abandoned beach -- and starts a new life.



Soon, however, Perrin misses his wife Elizabeth and returns (under a false name, though his wife pretends not to recognize him) and remarries her. In the second series, he starts a new company, Grot, openly selling useless items at obscenely inflated prices. "So much rubbish is sold these days under false pretences", Perrin tells a customer, "that I decided to be honest about it." His goods include square footballs, round dice, silent records, and tins of melted snow -- and so it is, of course, a huge success. Horrified, Perrin makes numerous failed attempts to destroy Grot, and eventually just gives up again -- faking his own suicide once more, though this time accompanied by his wife.

The plot sounds simple enough in its 70's-style morality, but the series was really brought to life by the very tight writing and the performance of an impressive cast -- most especially its leader, Leonard Rossiter, who played Perrin. Rossiter was a natural at portraying the stereotypical English suburbanite; yet also managed to keep that subversive twinkle in his eye as Perrin grew odder and odder.

Personally, my favorite aspect of the show was always the catch phrases. Catch phrases have a terribly bad name in today's comedy; but in Perrin they were used properly -- as a simple device for illustrating the painfully repetitive nature of Perrin's day. Like passive worker bees, Perrin's office colleagues literally used the exact same words to respond to every situation presented to them. For example, two junior "yes men" sale colleagues at Sunshine Desserts, bumblers who quivered in the face of authority, were rarely ever permitted to say anything other than "Great!" and "Super!" respectively, no matter what they were asked. It sounds extreme, but it truly works well -- even today, it reminds me of too many folks that I've worked with in offices through the years. It's an odd little trick that really holds up. Similarly, the boss at Sunshine Desserts, CJ, could never start a sentence without the tired phrase "I didn't get where I am today by . . . " blah blah blah. And even to a 9-year old, it quickly became apparent why Perrin needed to get away. Of all these, the one I always enjoyed most, however, came from Perrin's ne'er-do-well hippy son-in-law, who never quite managed to get a grip on anything. His phrase, as befitted his life, was "bit of a cock up on the XX front." As in, when asked about his new job, "Well, bit of a cock up on the employment front." Where's the food? "Afraid there's been a bit of a cock up on the catering front." Poor Perrin's life never changed; yet, somehow, for the viewer, it never got old. (BTW, you can't imagine the constant temptation, as a grade-schooler, to sidle up to my teachers and announce "Ah, yes, bit of a cock up on the ol' homework front today." Real missed opportunity there.)

There are times, certainly, when the series feels dated -- not just in fashion and setting, but also in its 1970s style of rebellion. I still feel, though, upon a recent reviewing, that there is a timeless quality about Perrin. For as one older review that I found of the show mused: "As long as there is industry, capitalism and a human longing for a life less ordinary, there will always be a Reggie Perrin sentiment present in the world."

The series was based largely off the the 1975 novel "The Death of Reginald Perrin" by David Nobbs. Nobbs was an established comedy writer in Britain in the early 70s. He was a writer for The Two Ronnies when the BBC invited him to submit an idea for a play about social problems in contemporary society. The synopsis he submitted concerned a man slowly going mad from his daily routine and it was rejected as unsuitable. Thankfully, Nobbs he held it and converted it into the Perrin novel.



Sadly, there aren't a great number of clips available online from the original series to show you, though there is this fun show post-show analysis / retrospective:



and this quick couple of bits from a similar retrospective, intro by Ronnie Barker:



Thankfully, you can still buy the entire series from Amazon UK (for the time being), though you will need to have a multi-region DVD player to see them. If you ever get the chance, do see it. And then stop by my house for tea and flavored ices.

Infatuated? Like, Totally -- So What's Next for Dylan Moran?

If you are tall, Irish and extremely funny, then chances are good that I've already fallen in love with you three or four times over and, at this point, you're just wishing I would lose your phone number so that you could avoid all the hassle and paperwork involved with getting a restraining order (that can take weeks -- who has the time?) And that pattern probably best explains the reason for my ongoing infatuation with comedy's most delicious mophead, Dylan Moran.



If you're an American and already know Moran, that's probably because you were lucky enough to catch one or more seasons of Black Books on BBC America. Created, written and developed for Channel 4 by Moran, it chronicles the struggles of crumedgeonly drunken bookstore owner Bernard Black.

Bernard is a throughly unlikeable inebriate, but Moran relates him to the overwhelmed-by-the-modern-world bookworm inside many of us who just wants to be left alone. With his two long-suffering friends -- equally unmotivated shop owner Fran and painfully underconfident Manny, (played with equal strength by Bill Bailey and Tamsin Greig) -- they seek refuge in the bookstore and hope that the rest of London will just let them be; but it never does. Customers continue to drop in with the unreasonable expectation that they may browse or purchase volumes without being heckled. If that wasn't annoyance enough, soon a bright and cheery chain bookstore (with crass corporate customer service provided by a steely Simon Pegg) moves in next door -- and then the customers *stop* coming. As with all of comedy's greatest characters, it seems that there is no way for poor Bernard to win. The only hope for all three characters is to tolerate each others eccentricities long enough to form a family-style bond and barrier against the outside world.



"Black Books" was well-loved by fans in the UK and abroad -- and even the critics chimed in approvingly -- it won a BAFTA in 2002 for best sitcom. All of the episodes are gems, but I'm especially fond of "Elephants and Hens" (in which Bernard and Manny write a children's book); and the final episode, "Party", in which Bernard tries to explain why he has been so grumpy and misanthropic all these years. Frankly, though, I recommend that you buy all of them.



To date, Dylan has been fairly cautious about maintaining creative control over his work and that has definitely been to his benefit. Much of what he appeared in has been of his own design (although in 1998, prior "Black Books", he did star in another charming but less popular series called "How Do You Want Me?" which was written by Simon Nye, who also wrote "Men Behaving Badly.") The rare movies he has done have been ones written and led by friends with equal talent. For example, he has worked with Simon Pegg (including his key role in "Shaun of the Dead" and his heroic effort as Pegg's friend and trainer Gordon in the most recent [but not quite as funny] "Run, Fat Boy Run"). He also held a great double role in "Tristam Shandy -- a Cock and Bull Story" as Dr. Slop -- the "modern physician" who delivers the lead character. (A key premise of the original novel being that the narrator continually tries to tell the story of his own birth but is constantly distracted by other story threads). He pairs that role, as do all of the actors, with interspersed scenes where he appears as himself -- an actor in the film. (For fuller background on the post-modern nature of the film, see The Resilient Rabbit: Knowing Me, Knowing You) This is best near the end when all of the actors view a screening of the final product and Moran is chatting with Gillian Anderson about why all of her best scenes ended up on the cutting room floor. (Have I mentioned before you that you really must see this film? Seriously. It's an overlooked gem. But once again I digress).

Dylan rarely grants interviews -- he doesn't seem comfortable around reporters (a point that was played up for humorous effect during a short that precedes the opening of his "Monster" stand up DVD). And even when he does talk, he is reticent on the subjects of himself, his family, his history and the creative process. So much of all that remains a bit of mystery, which probably adds to the charm.

Moran is only 37, but the bounce back question still comes to mind for me. "Black Books" wrapped back in 2001 and I've been ever-so-curious to see what he comes up with next. He is apparently still doing stand up in the UK -- check out dates for his "What It Is" tour here -- and if his two performance DVDs, Monster and Like, Totally, are representative, then he is definitely worth checking out on stage. Moran started out in stand up and even won with Perrier award at Edinburgh before he began work in television, so he definitely knows how to work an audience. And though the "Monster" DVD still shows him performing his signature glass of red wine in hand, he says that he has grown bored of the prop -- and of performing while plastered generally -- so I would be even more intrigued to see what his stand up looks like now.

Here's hoping that this Rabbit -- and the rest of his infatuated American audience -- will be lucky enough to find out more soon.

Spring Break in Slough; Thanksgiving in Torquay? Are you having a laugh?

VisitBritain has recently launched an effort to promote the locations of past British sitcoms as tourist destinations. According to the Times: "The tourism body, which had success last year with its campaign to encourage “set-jetting” to locations of blockbuster films such as The Da Vinci Code, says that 40 per cent of all visits around Britain are inspired by scenes shown on TV and in films.

The most visited places for comic nostalgia are expected to be Torquay, location for Fawlty Towers, Holmfirth in West Yorkshire, setting for Last of the Summer Wine, Turville in the Chilterns, the parish made famous by The Vicar of Dibley, Norwich, home to Steve Coogan's I'm Alan Partridge, and Cricket St Thomas, Somerset, the village where Peter Bowles and Penelope Keith filmed To the Manor Born."

Look: I'm a ridiculous Britcom nerd. I admit to being over-the-top addicted. If I didn't have a family to raise and a job to hold, I would certainly and happily waste the rest of my days away -- "Spaced" in front of the television -- watching reruns of Fawlty Towers, Give My Head Peace, the Mighty Boosh, the Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin, I'm Alan Partridge and Black Books -- and that would ideally be before breakfast.

But here's the difference between me and the promoters of these tour plans: I was paying attention while watching these shows. I recognized that, in the original Office, a central theme was the characters' flailing inability to escape from the dreary life of Slough. Likewise, Fawlty Towers wouldn't have been quite as brilliant if it were set in an exciting seaside resort so that the inn might occasionally attract fun or interesting guests. (Okay -- "the Germans" would be funny in any setting, but that's just because of the funny walk . . . ) The show is better because Basil is stuck in Torquay. As a proud British citizen, he refuses to admit that it's not exactly the Cote D'Azur -- but that denial only further fuels the premise.

Point being: these spots are not hidden gems of holiday excitement.

I will say, however, that the campaign's website -- although sporting a very goofy design -- is actually chock full of useful info for folks like me, including links to where one can find comedy clubs and festivals around the island. I could have used this last time we were in London and I was whining to my long-suffering spouse that I didn't want to go to the Comedy Store OR Sohoho again. They even reference and link to the Blue Lounge in Thirsk -- which I might actually visit someday if only because I think that Greg Proops' "Back in the UK" was partially recorded there (though mostly taped in Sheffield and Edinburgh). And how about this description: "Giggling Badger Comedy Club, which opened in 2006, is one of the biggest Sunday night comedy clubs in the Midlands." (Please Note: In February 2008, a second Giggling Badger club opened at the Royal British Legion club, Melton Road, in Syston. This venue now hosts a comedy night on the second Wednesday of every month.)

Wow: the biggest of *all* the Sunday night gig venues in the Midlands?? Now you almost have to go, right?

It also has an index of outing spots organized by comedy hero. My favorite part about this index is that it links the reader back to pictures of the places mentioned. These show glowing pictures of the getaways -- all of them sunny, bright and cheery. Here is the picture they show of Torquay:












And, granted, I visited there once and the place certainly has charm. It's cute. Looks like you'd think an English seaside village would look. But, honestly, here is how I remember it:



That picture was lifted from the "boy was this a bad marketing strategy" Torquay webcam -- visit it and judge for yourself!

Note: no picture posted for Slough. We wonder why? Probably best summarized by the first stanza from the famous John Betjeman poem -- remember when Brent read aloud from it?

Slough
Come friendly bombs and fall on Slough!
It isn't fit for humans now,
There isn't grass to graze a cow.
Swarm over, Death!

Come, bombs and blow to smithereens
Those air -conditioned, bright canteens,
Tinned fruit, tinned meat, tinned milk, tinned beans,
Tinned minds, tinned breath.

Mess up the mess they call a town-
A house for ninety-seven down
And once a week a half a crown
For twenty years.

The Complete and Utter History of Britain

In a mix-up that could easily have been described in a Monty Python sketch, episodes from Michael Palin and Terry Jones's "The Complete and Utter History of Britain" have been found by the British Film Institute's Missing Believed Wiped effort. The intrepid folks at MBW track down footage from eras when archival of film was prohibitively expensive, so many shows were erased after transmission. Why didn't they just upload to BitTorrent?

"The Complete and Utter History of Britain" was a sketch comedy by Palin and Jones, who collaborated before joining Monty Python. The show, which presented historical events like the Battle Of Hastings as live news, is a sort of Rosetta Stone of sketch comedy, providing a definite chronological link between The Goon Show and The Daily Show. This major discovery is just as if Aristotle's Poetics of Comedy had been discovered, and had been funny, and Aristotle had long hair and a wacky accent.

In addition to the three episodes discovered recently, another has been unearthed. It had been misfiled. It is hoped that the parties responsible for the misfile have been sacked.

Messrs. Jones and Palin will be introducing the show at a special event hosted by the British Film Institute on June 25th.

[Via Dead-Frog]

NOTE: I, the Resilient Rabbit, did not write this post -- it is taken in full from Comedy Central Insider who, apparently, lifted it from Dead Frog. So full credit goes to them and I have linked to the original above. I pass it along here only because I know that folks who read this might be interested.