TV Review: DEREK

This article was originally published in The Courier on 17th May 2014.

http://www.thecourier.co.uk/lifestyle

Derek: Wednesday, Channel 4

Paul Whitelaw

Before we talk about Derek, some historical context is required. Only when familiar with the evolution of Ricky Gervais’ extraordinary paean to kindness and innocence can we truly get to grips with its myriad complexities.

It’s 2002. Following the initial success of The Office, Gervais starred in an ensemble stand-up show at the Edinburgh Fringe. He introduced a character called Derek Noakes. The mannerisms were already in place: the shuffling gait, jutting jaw and forehead-flattened hair were all recognisable as the Derek we know and love today.

The important difference is that this iteration of Derek wasn’t a wise, holy fool deserving of respect. He was a figure of fun, a lonely, deluded man with learning difficulties who existed purely as a vessel for cheap “shock” humour. We were being invited to laugh at an able-bodied comedian brazenly performing a cruel playground caricature.

Gervais frequently broke character to cackle at his own outrageousness, clearly thrilled by the buzz of getting away with it. That was the “point” of Derek: an act of childish mockery from someone who should know better.

As the years went by, Gervais would occasionally slip into Derek during his stand-up act as a way of deriding those he deemed beneath him, namely “sad” autograph hunters and Britain’s Got Talent fans. Weirdly, autograph hunting and BGT are two of the “favouritest” things of Derek from the heart-warming Channel 4 sitcom.

Gervais then got in trouble for repeatedly using the word “mong” on Twitter and on stage (he described Susan Boyle as such; the newer, nicer Derek is a big fan of Boyle). Despite being widely recognised as a disablist insult, Gervais denied any knowledge of this. As far as he was concerned, it was just a harmless way of describing the comical face-pulling he’s so fond of. And yet his Boyle routine blatantly contradicts this claim: he obviously knew what it meant.

Stung by the backlash, he hastily revived Derek for an embarrassingly mawkish, heavy-handed comedy-drama about an elderly care home. We’re now expected to accept him as an inspirational figure whose unwavering kindness is a lesson to us all. And yet Derek, which resembles an inept pantomime written by an earnest teenager, constantly undermines this simplistic message.

Kindly Derek wrestles an elderly resident to the floor; a woman is mocked for being overweight; alcoholism is debilitating yet hilarious; OAP sex is repulsive; older people should be listened to, just as long as they’re given as few lines as possible; it’s perfectly acceptable for a care home assistant to have sex with her boyfriend on the premises.

What a fascinating, jaw-dropping mess. Nothing about it makes sense. And yet some have fallen for it. Viewers who cared little for the choice highlights of his earlier work now regard Gervais as a saintly purveyor of valuable life lessons. His cynical volte-face worked. Maybe he’s a genius after all.

The latest episode featured a visit to the zoo. Its whimsical celebration of the animal kingdom would’ve had Attenborough reaching for an air rifle. Meanwhile, Hannah’s mission to conceive ended in disappointment. Cue Derek: “I wanted to ‘old it… I never knows what to say, so I just hugs. And that sort of says it all.”

I don’t think Gervais is a bad person. He’s doubtless convinced himself that Derek is a sincere plea from the heart. The reality is it’s one of the most addictively incompetent works ever produced by a major comedian. I loves it, me.

TV PREVIEW: Doctor Who, The Voice UK, The Village, Life's Too Short

This article was originally published in The Scotsman on Saturday 30th March 2013.

http://www.scotsman.com/lifestyle/tv-and-radio/tv-preview-doctor-who-the-voice-uk-the-village-life-s-too-short-1-2866239

DOCTOR WHO

Today, BBC1, 6:15pm

THE VOICE UK

Today, BBC1, 7pm

THE VILLAGE

Sunday, BBC1, 9pm

LIFE'S TOO SHORT

Today, BBC2, 10pm

Paul Whitelaw

The problem with previewing new episodes of DOCTOR WHO is that, because it thrives on shock and surprise, you're left with little to say beyond a few gentle hints. To go into any more detail would be like telling a child what it's getting for Christmas. Which I might actually do one day as a social experiment, but that's another story.

So, what I can tell you is that as series seven resumes, the Doctor is brooding over the bizarre ongoing mystery of Clara Oswald, a young woman who, on the two occasions they've met, has died in different periods in history. How can this be? This being Steven Moffat's Doctor Who, the eventual answer will probably be convoluted and disappointing, but I'll gladly be proven wrong.

In any case, the Doctor is now obsessed with tracking down yet another version of Clara, only this time with a view to keeping her alive. And sure enough, as anyone with even a passing interest in Doctor Who already knows, he meets Clara Mark III in Moffat'sThe Bells of Saint John. It's one of those purely entertaining episodes best described as a romp, as the Doctor sets himself up as Clara's galactic guardian while struggling to save humankind from being enslaved by alien Wi-Fi.

This, of course, is a standard Moffat trick: take an everyday facet of existence and invest it with horror. He must spend his days wandering around thinking of ways to make door knobs and carpets scary. Here he takes our real-world concerns about internet identity theft, chucks in one of his other favourite tropes, the creepy child, adds a possible reference to The Exorcist and a fan-pleasing nod to a former companion, and voila! 45 minutes of fun, pacy Moffat Doctor Who.

Matt Smith is a note-perfect delight as usual, although the day he stops being a note-perfect delight as the Doctor is the day he regenerates into the unfortunate thesp who has to follow him. After Clara's introduction in last year's Asylum of the Daleks and the most recent Christmas special, Jenna Louise-Coleman continues to impress with her likeable, charming, understated performance (she's far less annoying than she was in her sass-talking début). She and Smith make for an endearing team.

Also, watch out for a surprise cameo from John Simm's Master and classic series baddies the Zygons.

Dear internet forums and fellow media outlets: please note that this last statement is an outright lie, humorously pertaining to the dilemma established in my opening paragraph. Thanks.

Also returning to BBC1's Saturday night line-up is THE VOICE UK, the torpid X Factor clone that drew flack last year for its repetitive, drawn-out format and excessive overuse of Jessie J doing that thing with her head. But the producers have apparently made some game-changing improvements to the format, despite retaining the same set of judges. So expect another billion weeks of Tom Jones looking like he'd rather be at home having a nap, and will.i.am standing on his chair whenever he feels he's not getting enough attention.

A big week for TV dramatists called Moffat continues with THE VILLAGE, in which Peter Moffat (Criminal Justice; Silk) abandons his usual peregrinations around the legal system for an epic trek across the entire 20^th century. Or at least, that's the plan. Moffat has declared that The Village, which is entirely set within a rural community in the North of England, will unfold over 42 episodes. So that's seven series in as many years.

This ambitious concept automatically confers upon The Village the sort of “event TV” buzz one doesn't normally associate with Sunday night period dramas. It's frustrating, then, that episode one feels like little more than a flat, silly parody.

Leaving no trope unturned, it begins in 1914 by introducing a sadistic farmer (John Simm – genuinely this time – glowering for all his worth) who brutally torments his cowering wife (Maxine Peake) and children, one of whom tops and tails each episode as a centenarian reflecting over his life. There's also a sadistic schoolteacher who is, of course, directly countermanded by a kindly schoolteacher. Meanwhile, up at the Downton-esque big house, the conversation at dinner is preoccupied with the suffragette movement and dark rumblings about war with Germany. It practically writes itself.

Although it's clear that Moffat is trying to do something interesting here, he struggles to settle on the right tone. The unrelenting misery actually becomes funny after a while, a problem hardly alleviated by the persistently mournful brass and harmonium soundtrack. It feels at times like a deranged Hovis advert. However, the more idiosyncratic elements of The Village begin to click into place in part two, with part one feeling in retrospect like a formally self-conscious introduction. So it may be worth sticking with. Over seven years, if need be.

Finally, Gervais & Merchant's dismal sitcom LIFE'S TOO SHORT returns unbidden for a one-off finale. Drab and mean-spirited, it sidelines its nominal star, Warwick Davis, in favour of the supposedly hilarious spectacle of ha-ha-has-beens Keith Chegwin, Shaun Williamson and Les Dennis making fools of themselves. It's truly desperate stuff.

Ricky Gervais and DEREK: What Fresh Hell is This?!

This article was originally published in The Scotsman on 24th January 2013.

http://www.scotsman.com/lifestyle/tv-and-radio/derek-might-be-worst-thing-ricky-gervais-has-done-1-2759890

DEREK

A pseudo-documentary based in an old people's home, Ricky Gervais' Derek caused something of a stir when the pilot aired last year.

Following on the heels of a much-criticised incident where he used the word “mong” on Twitter and denied all knowledge of it being a disablist term, the controversy was compounded by his new project, in which he appeared to be playing a man with learning difficulties. Gervais, of course, stubbornly denied that he was.

To be fair to his creator, the shambling Derek – a voluntary carer – is never presented as an object of ridicule. Indeed, he's innocent and kind to a fault. Gervais says he wishes more people were like him.

But Derek's physical appearance - jaw permanently jutted, hair flattened over his forehead - is practically identical to the face Gervais pulls in the countless pictures he Tweets of himself to cruelly mock the supposedly idiotic fans of Susan Boyle and Britain's Got Talent. Coincidentally, they're also two of Derek's favourite things. So what's he trying to say here? I don't think even he knows.

Make no mistake, Derek – a series written and directed by Gervais alone - is one of the most embarrassingly inept concoctions you're ever likely to see. Indeed, I actually feel quite sorry for the befuddled auteur. He's a thin-skinned, insecure superstar who wants to be seen as a great artist and deep thinker. And his heart appears to be in the right place with Derek. In theory at least, it's a (painfully) sincere attempt to say something meaningful about human kindness and the way society marginalises the elderly.

But Gervais' efforts are so horribly forced and heavy-handed. It feels more like a cynical exercise in emotional manipulation than the heart-warming – and potentially award-winning - piece he's aiming for. The pathos in his only great work,The Office, felt relatively effortless, but here it's delivered with a sledgehammer.

The soundtrack drowns in overbearing “FEEL SAD NOW” piano, as Gervais pits his merry band of outsiders against crudely-rendered men in grey. And despite good performances from his core cast – including regular sidekick Karl Pilkington – Gervais is still problematic in the lead role. You never believe in Derek as a consistent character. It's just millionaire comedian Ricky Gervais shuffling about in a cardigan and pulling a face.

As a comedy-drama, it's almost fascinatingly dull, repetitive, shallow and unsubtle. The dramatic elements are overdone and the comedy barely existent. A tonal train-wreck, its abject failings are crystallised in the hilariously ill-conceived montage that closes episode two. Scored to Radiohead's tenderly triumphant Bones (clumsy literalism ahoy!), images of happily dreaming elderly residents are spliced with grainy footage of them supposedly in their youth. It's truly jaw-dropping in its deranged efforts to yank the heartstrings.

If that wasn't jarring enough, it's immediately preceded by a scene in which Derek vomits into a toilet, an old man soils himself, and another character emits an explosive fart. It's like someone earnestly lecturing you on the poetry of existence while throwing bricks through your window. Time and time again you'll ask yourself: “What the hell were you thinking, man?!”

Quoted in the official press release, Gervais actually says – of his own creation – that he's never seen anything quite like it. Fair dues, Ricky, I'm with you on that.

DEREK airs from Wednesday 30^th January on Channel 4 at 10pm.

Whatever Happened to Ricky Gervais?

This bauble of thought was first published in The Scotsman on 19th July 2012.

NOTE: the following isn't intended as another article about a celebrity behaving like a prat on Twitter, because frankly who cares? But the car-crash antics of Ricky Gervais on the popular social networking site are so beyond the pale – yes, even in a world where Charlie Sheen exists – that they practically demand special attention.

In any case, they're symptomatic of a wider malaise within the confused mindset of the formerly chubby funster. Gervais isn't the first celebrity to let fame go to his head, but he's a fascinating example of someone who's obsessed with the trappings and pitfalls of celebrity, and yet who now fully embodies the very nightmare he once warned against.

I regard The Office as one of the greatest TV comedies of the last 20 years. Beautifully co-written, directed and performed by Gervais, it was an astute study of an embarrassing, needy, thin-skinned idiot who desperately craved affection, but who constantly caused offence due to his staggering lack of self-awareness. And yet here we are a decade later, where the line between David Brent and his creator is barely distinguishable.

Gervais spends most of his time on Twitter pompously instructing us on what we should and shouldn't be offended by, while obsessively deleting his more aggressive tweets and calling upon his vast army of sycophantic followers to shower abuse on anyone who dares criticise him. Perpetually on the defensive for crimes he's in the process of committing, he simply will not be challenged on anything.

You don't like his comedy? That's because you don't “get” it, and not because you think it's a load of poorly constructed rubbish with no consistent moral or logical centre. You're offended by his use of the word “mong”? That's because you haven't realised that it's no longer a derogatory term for someone with Down's Syndrome, despite an earlier stand-up routine about Susan Boyle proving that he clearly understands the specific connotations of the word.

The complex evolution of language and nuance of meaning are areas upon which Ricky Gervais is the sole arbiter, and woe betide anyone who disagrees. For someone who professes not to care what his critics think, he spends an awful lot of time getting upset over what his critics think.

Is it any coincidence that the heavily criticised “mong-gate” incident and catastrophic failure of Life's Too Short – in which he empowered the dwarf actor Warwick Davis by placing him in a toilet twice – was followed by Derek, a clumsily manipulative and overbearingly mawkish sitcom about a kind, gentle man with learning difficulties?

 

But wait, hang on, he doesn't have learning difficulties at all, because Gervais says so. And what Gervais says is gospel. Not that he believes in gospel, given that he's an atheist who never tires of promoting his beliefs in the manner of a dim adolescent who believes he's blowing minds with every iconoclastic utterance.

Oh Ricky, what hast thou become?