On comedy
I lament the state of British broadcast comedy, take a bit of a tour through what makes me chuckle and suggest why taking the comedic shackles off can only be good for the state of the nation.
Yesterday evening, while watching an episode of the HBO series Veep, crying with laughter at a joke so crude I can’t even allude to it here, I began – as I frequently do – to lament the current state of British broadcast comedy and sitcoms. Ah, I hear you cry, Armando Iannucci is British and before Veep he was the brains behind The Thick of It, so – in the words of Chandler Bing – you could not be more wrong. Both of these things are true but The Thick of It finished twelve years ago and we’ve not seen anything as darkly satirical since. I’d also argue that Veep, which finished its run in 2019, crossed lines that The Thick of It didn’t even dare to flirt with. British broadcast comedy has, for too long now, felt neutered. To oversimplify a little (or a great deal), Sigmund Freud theorised that jokes let out forbidden thoughts, most British comedy these days barely seems to let out thoughts. That we live in a world where the unforgivably awful Mrs Brown’s Boys exists pains me to my core.
I grew up on a decent dose of comedy thanks, in many respects, to the good taste of my mother. Blackadder (1983 - 1989), Frasier (1993 - 2004), Whose Line is it Anyway (1988 - 1999), Fist of Fun (1995 - 1996), Father Ted (1995 -1998) and Brass Eye (1997 - 2001) all set the scene. With her approval, I delved further back into Yes Minister / Yes Prime Minister (1980 -1988), Fawlty Towers (1975 - 1979), Monty Python’s Flying Circus (1969 - 1974) and The Goon Show (1951 - 1960). With the exception of Frasier, all of these were British creations, and our one point of difference was my love of another US show, Friends (1994 - 2004).
I grew up on a decent dose of comedy thanks, in many respects, to the good taste of my mother.
From the late 70s through to the late 90s, we seemed to be in a golden era of British comedy on the mainstream broadcasters. Things staggered on through Ricky Gervais’s masterpiece, The Office (2001 - 2003), and brilliant, offbeat shows like Garth Marenghi’s Darkplace (2004) and The Mighty Boosh (2004-2007). Looking back, The Thick of It feels like the last hurrah, the almost dying breath of actually being allowed to be funny on British broadcast television.
Part of this could just be me getting older. It’s quite typical to look back and say we’re not allowed to be funny anymore. Such arguments are often made on social media about things that most of us now, quite rightly, regard as offensive and discriminatory – in this category, I’d place people like Jim Davidson, Roy Chubby Brown and Bernard Manning. That kind of comedy is, and I risk like sounding like a member of the wokerati here, simply cheap and ‘othering’. So I choose not to watch it and hope others do the same. But we seem to have overcorrected to the point that we stifle creativity in new British comedy and retrospectively ‘cancel’ moments of comedic genius. Fawlty Towers is one example where, of course, things would, and should, be written differently today but that doesn’t mean we should strike off one of the best examples of British comedy. Those who delight at being offended have even retrospectively come for Friends due to the lack of diversity among the leading cast. Correcting these issues in shows made now is important but that does not mean we can’t use comedy - as we did in the past - to call out ridiculous and offensive behaviour, through satire, and darkly chuckle along the way. There is a big difference between the genius of John Clease, where we are laughing at Basil Fawlty, and jokes from the likes of Bernard Manning but somewhere along the line, in the UK, we’ve lost the ability to trust the audience to make that distinction. On the other side of the Atlantic, there seems to be far more faith placed in the viewing public.
Consider for a moment how long it would take the Guardian reading masses to cancel Matt Stone and Trey Parker were they British.
Looking at comedy that’s come out of the USA over the last decade is what reassures me that it’s not just me getting old. Veep is one obvious example but The League (2009 – 2015) is another as is What We Do in the Shadows (2019 – present) and the ongoing animated series South Park (1997 - present), Family Guy (1999 - present) and Rick and Morty (2013 - present). Curb Your Enthusiasm (2000 - 2024) has also endured over that period. Even moving into the sphere of ‘dramedy’ there are shows originally broadcast and created in the USA that enter comedic spaces that shows produced for broadcast television in the UK wouldn’t dare to touch. Succession (2018 - 2023) is a clear example where we see a stream of the most hilariously despicable characters.
Perhaps it’s the First Amendment that’s allowed the USA to better ride the wave of political correctness that’s seen British broadcast comedy falter. South Park is often dismissed as a crude cartoon on these shores but since 1997 it has clearly shown that truly brilliant comedy pushes boundaries and treats everything, equally, as fair game. It is at once able to point out the absurdities of certain positions or groups and make us laugh at those who are discriminatory. Consider for a moment how long it would take the Guardian reading masses to cancel Matt Stone and Trey Parker were they British. Would the BBC, or even Channel 4, dare go there if such a show was pitched to them.
We’ve lost our desire to be brave in British comedy, it’s why we see the likes of Ricky Gervais turn to Netflix, who as an international player aren’t afraid to push boundaries, but his ability to do that so freely with content like After Life (2019 - 2022) is, perhaps, the product of his prior success. Other British masters of the darker side of comedy, such as Matt Berry, have also found a home for their talent stateside. It’s not that I simply want our comedy to be dark, as much as I enjoy that, I just want it to be good and getting to good means creative freedom. Growing up, I idealised Niles Crane – those of you who have seen me wipe down a chair will now realise it’s a hang-up from that era. Frasier was spectacular, even the recent reboot was better than anything we’ve managed for a decade on these shores, and it managed to at once to be perfectly written, ‘he was eminent when my eminence was merely imminent’, and brilliantly physical and slapstick – the finest example of this is David Hyde Pierce in the Three Valentines episode.
It’s the wider creative freedom, that doesn’t over censor humour, that has allowed American sitcoms to thrive. Over the past ten to fifteen years, the USA has given the world quality mainstream comedies like The Good Place (2016 - 2020), The Big Bang Theory (2007 - 2019), New Girl (2011 - 2018), Brooklyn Nine-Nine (2013 - 2021), Parks & Recreation (2009 - 2015), Upload (2020 - present), Only Murders in the Building (2021 - present) and Modern Family (2012 - 2020) to name just a few, alongside darker comedy and ‘dramedy’. Comedy in the USA has not lost its edge like ours has and through Saturday Night Live (1975 - present) has the most reliable of comedic production lines - watch their relatively recent Washington’s Dream sketch which is not only hilarious but contains a critique of racial discrimination which would likely be too much for a British broadcaster.
Some might suggest that there is a correlation between the deterioration of British broadcast output and the emergence of Netflix, Amazon Prime, Disney+, AppleTV - I could go on for far too long listing them. But were this the cause, there would have been a similar fall in quality and output overseas too. To be fair, streaming services do offer some glimmers of hope for the collective British funny bone. Shows like Sex Education (2019 - 2023), though relatively inoffensive and unwilling to push boundaries with any force - despite the risqué title, demonstrate that a lack of British acting talent is clearly not the problem. But it is a far cry from the outright comedy we used to excel at and remains many miles from the era defining shows we used to produce. Something about it, and other shows we produce on these shores, feels like the handbrake is still being held. That we don’t quite dare go where writers in other countries more freely tread.
Recently, the Director of Comedy at the BBC, John Petrie, called on the TV industry to ‘save our sitcoms’. His goal is noble but the root cause of the death of the British sitcom isn’t the TV industry it’s the heads of British broadcasters who seem to stifle creativity and no longer dare to be different lest they hurt someone’s feelings. The BBC has long since stopped pushing boundaries and instead pushes agendas with shows like Dr Who now feeling more like a lesson in inclusivity than irreverent science fiction. Channel 4, which held out for longer with The Inbetweeners (2008 - 2010) being their most obvious final flurry, now seems equally terrified to offend. Censorship stifles creativity and our broadcasters have overcorrected. To create good sitcoms again, we need to be free to push the boundaries. I return to Freud – humour lets out forbidden thoughts. Here in the UK, however, we seem to be intent on forbidding humour out of the fear of causing offence.
There is a wider point here too, these little restrictions – the removal of the darker outlets for our humour all contribute to the sense that our freedom of speech in this country is being increasingly restricted. The new Labour government’s criticism and likely cancellation of the new Higher Education (Freedom of Speech) Act is another example of this. Beneath this the tension bubbles and people begin to believe their very thoughts are being policed. Rather than preventing hatred this over-restriction gives a platform to those who truly want to divide, who truly want to spread hatred.
We need to release this tension and what better place to start than comedy, so let’s take the shackles off. The left think that freedom of speech only extends to those with whom they agree. Fortunately, there is – as yet – no right not to be offended. Comedy should always push boundaries, it was true when Chaucer wrote about a bare-behind being thrust out of a window in The Miller’s Tale and it’s true today. If someone could remind our broadcasters of that, they might find their way to being funny again and if, heaven forbid, you’re upset by what you see – just switch it off.