Reviews

Like Steve Coogan's previous live video, Live 'n' Lewd, The Man Who Thinks He's It shies away from Coogan's earlier impression-based stand-up, and instead showcases a number of comic characters: smutty shop girl Pauline Calf; nervous comedian Duncan Thickett; Portuguese pop sensation Tony Ferrino; unemployable drunkard Paul Calf; blunt, oblivious chat show host Alan Partridge; and the self-absorbed comedian Steve Coogan.

At the beginning of The Man, in one of its many faux-interviews with Steve Coogan in pretentious actor mode, Coogan vows that this show will be "different from all those other live videos." This promise is somewhat upheld, but at a loss for the viewers at home.

By 1998, Coogan's The Man characters were all fairly well-established, having had their own series, shorts, or at least previous video appearances. For Alan Partridge, this meant having a well-known catchphrase and the expectation that he would get down to some chat, but for the other characters as well, a formula seemed to have developed for their stage performances. Pauline Calf, as she did in Live 'n' Lewd, crassly discusses her wanton lifestyle, and then reads an excerpt from her newest book. Duncan Thickett botches his attempts at the latest fads in comedy (including some meta "character comedy"). Tony Ferrino deplores matrimony, and then sings some songs winking at infidelity. Paul Calf drunkenly mumbles about unemployment and females. Alan Partridge has a chat and then sings a "medley" from a female vocalist's oeuvre (this time Kate Bush). This is quite a variety of very different performances, but for anyone familiar with Coogan's work, it's no surprise. A first-time viewer might giggle at the fact that crude Pauline Calf has written a book; a Coogan aficionado is just waiting to hear the name of her newest Mary-Sue character. Someone unfamiliar with Thickett might cackle at the fact that someone so out-of-touch is even attempting to do observational comedy; the well-versed viewer just wants to see what embarrassing bit of personal information he will give away in his attempts to relate with the audience. The characters themselves – much like Tony Ferrino's song selection – have become variations on a theme. Who will Paul Calf insult? Who will Alan Partridge awkwardly interview? These are humorous routines, but for a Coogan enthusiast, they are comfortable comedy, as comfy and familiar as sports casual clothing; nothing new or exciting here.

In order to fulfill that above-mentioned promise to be unlike other live shows, The Man Who Thinks He's It features many cut-aways to "Steve the Comedian," as well as bits with his fellow performers Julia Davis and Simon Pegg. The inclusion of co-performers is a key change from Live 'n' Lewd, and The Man depends heavily on them for its laughs. Julia Davis plays Pauline Calf's homely best friend, Tony Ferrino's soon-to-be-late wife, a feminist singer Paul Calf mistakenly invites to play a song, Alan Partridge's depressed, bulimic guest, and herself. Though Julia Davis is always a funny presence, rather than refresh Coogan's characters with some on-stage banter, her roles seem to just interrupt the sketches, and then drag them on without many actual jokes written for this interaction. With Paul Calf, Julia Davis performs a quintessential man-hating tune, and Paul just lazily dances around in the background. With these other characters to rely on, the center of the show – Coogan's creations – seem underwritten. The aforementioned same-old formula is used with a new friend in lieu of new jokes.

In their interview interstitials, Davis and Pegg paint a portrait of Coogan as a very self-obsessed, but desperate man. In one moment, overhearing Simon receiving big laughs while emceeing, Steve asks Simon not to tell that joke next time. This is a humorous poke at the egotism that comes with success, but it is also the only time we get to see Pegg in his emceeing role, unlike John Thomson as Bernard Righton in Live 'n' Lewd. With these frequent cutaways to documentary segments, once even interrupting Tony Ferrino mid-song, The Man Who Thinks He's It definitely does not feel like any other live show: it doesn't feel like a live show at all. The lampooning of the Comic Steve Coogan has become one of Coogan's funniest devices (in The Trip, Cock & Bull, Coffee & Cigarettes, etc.), but here, it's used almost too much. Like the addition of co-performers, the frequency of these documentary interstitials stops seeming refreshing and new, and starts to feel like a crutch to distract from an otherwise lackluster bill of performances.

In The Man Who Thinks He's It, Coogan is of course funny, but his characters (including "Steve Coogan" himself) have all had more hilarious, fresh, and enthusiastic performances. The Man showcases consistent, comfortable comedy, but you'll find nothing brilliant here.

In this 1994 live special, Coogan plays four of his characters (some less well-known than others): openly-polysexual townie Pauline Calf, nervous stand-up comedian Duncan Thickett, no-nonsense health and safety lecturer Ernest Moss, and the eternally-intoxicated wastrel Paul Calf.

A lot of the humour in these characters comes from knowing that in real life, Steve Coogan is a charming, handsome, funny man, yet he's dedicated himself to playing such unappealing roles. (Steve Coogan the Comedian is poked at with little "documentary" interstitials that bookend the show and fill the intermission.) Though all inherently depressing, there is a delicious variety to Coogan's comic creations, and whatever they lack in funny, they make up for in pure enthusiasm. With Pauline Calf, even if her slaggy "I've done him" mantra gets a bit trite, one cannot help but marvel at how convincing a woman Coogan makes — he's not pantomiming in drag; he's really transformed himself into a character who happens to be a lady. With awkward stand-up comedian Duncan Thickett, Coogan has perfected the "anti-performance": Thickett jumps about anxiously and constantly moves his hands, trying to compensate for his nervousness with an overzealous performance; he is a stage character totally not at ease with being on stage. Many of Thickett's laughs come from this Coogan / character juxtaposition: we know (even just from the Pauline Calf routine) that Coogan is a master of voices and jokes, yet Thickett is a terrible comedian, and a terrible impressionist. Occasionally Coogan allows Thickett an accurate impersonation, hilarious in that Duncan seems less realistic than his Neil Kinnock imitation. If ever a slow spot in these sketches, there's always comedy in trying to see Steve Coogan underneath his Ernest Moss glasses or Paul Calf haircut, yet the material itself is consistently hilarious.

The characters are each introduced by John Thomson as Bernard Righton, a surprisingly entertaining (yet staunchly politically correct) emcee. The video also contains the aforementioned "documentary" bits with Coogan as Coogan, as well as faux-interviews with audience and critics (Coogan and Thomson), and some pseudo-pedantic narration by Coogan as Terry Wogan. These interstitials make the video (which lacks but needs no narrative) feel interconnected and whole, like one linked comedy piece instead of the mishmash of disparate characters that it easily could have been.

For an early venture in Coogan's career, Live 'n' Lewd holds up very well, unlike Coogan's earliest, impression-based stand-up, which can now really only be viewed as the raw, cringe-worthy beginnings from which his later work ascended. Yes, his characters still invite comparison with Coogan the comic (then and now), but that was intentional at the time; someone with no external knowledge is provided a Coogan persona with which to juxtapose his roles. For an early piece with jokes that sometimes falter, that sort of self-awareness/-containment really gives a timeless quality to the video. Even if Steve Coogan had never gone on to do anything else, Live 'n' Lewd would still be a stand-up special worth watching.

Steve Coogan and Henry Normal, writers of The Parole Officer, both have had moments of brilliance in their careers. The Parole Officer, however, is not one.

The film is ostensibly a comedy, but devotes most of its screen time to hackneyed, and frankly boring, story lines: Coogan plays Simon Garden, a parole officer who discovers corruption within the Manchester police department, and assembles some of his former, reformed clients in order to help him steal the evidence needed to bring this to light. There's also a chemistry-lacking romantic subplot involving a policewoman, and not many laughs.

Coogan has delivered some of his best, funniest performances when allowed to just freely ramble, often improvising. The Parole Officer, with so many plot "twists" to work in, eschews any such quiet hilarity, and when it has room for a joke, goes with obvious, crude bathroom humour (there are a surprisingly high number of boner jokes). The amount of time spent on the convoluted crime/corruption plots also cuts characterization to a minimum. Even Simon Garden, our supposed protagonist, is not given much personality or character history beyond, "he has some sort blood sugar disorder requiring him to eat crisps a lot." Furthermore, the plot's much-heralded action sequences end up being rather dull, and the music selection (late 90s/early 00s pop) does not help, as it has not aged well.

Coogan has a few funny moments, and there is a very short, very strange cameo by Simon Pegg and Julia Davis, but there is nothing in The Parole Officer to justify a recommendation. It is better off forgotten, as one failed venture of some very talented people.

(For those severely crushing on the Coogs, and curious to see him in the glasses and smart suit on the poster, just skip to the dialogue-free end credits montage – you won't miss much.)

The Trip, the television program, is a poignant, rambling, beautiful little series, starring comedians Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon as fictionalized versions of themselves.

The Trip, the film, which I was able to catch at a packed SIFF screening, is an edited version of the television show. The six episode series clocks in at about 180 minutes, and the film, at 107 minutes, feels truncated and rushed comparatively. Both follow these hilarious gents as they review restaurants in the English countryside, but with those seventy-so minutes edited out, much of the nuance and poignancy is lost—the tone shifts from somber (but funny), to seemingly desperate for laughs. The film does often get those laughs (Coogan and Brydon, in their largely improvised conversations, are very humorous), but it fails to really make much impact beyond providing entertainment. The more melancholy scenes retained from the television series often feel tacked-on, and the transition between jokes and sentiment clunky, with quiet moments and breathing time largely cut out.

Audiences looking for droll popcorn fare will not be disappointed, but those wanting to be genuinely moved should skip the flick and instead seek out the superlative television series, using whatever means they can.

Early in his career, Patrick Marber proved he could craft surrealistic comedy verging upon the absurd (On the Hour, The Day Today), later using his talents for creepier, darker fare (Notes on a Scandal).

Old Street, tonally and temporally, lies at a crossroads between those two styles. The short follows a lone working class man as he tries to leave a parking garage late one night, but is impeded by a barrier that won't lift and a derisive, disembodied voice interrogating him after he appeals to the machine's "emergency" button for help.

Had the film been any longer than its thirteen minutes, Old Street likely would have bored, as in lieu of character growth, its arc is built on increasing tension. However, it doesn't last long enough to drag, and comes to a satisfyingly eerie conclusion.

The film is somewhat hindered by Ray Winstone's not entirely convincing performance, and by the occasionally amateurish cinematography. I was surprised to see Danny Cohen (The King's Speech, This is England, Nathan Barley) as the DP, as some of the shots felt like pretentious film school fare (reflections in mirrors, awkward angles).

Overall, though, Old Street is an interesting short, worthwhile to check out - especially for those wondering how Patrick Marber went from Knowing Me, Knowing You to Notes on a Scandal and Closer.

In On the Hour and The Day Today, the character of Alan Partridge is introduced as a bumbling, easily exasperated sports reporter. The audience gets a more focused look at him with his "failed" chat show Knowing Me, Knowing You… with Alan Partridge, but the character does not really "come into his own" until the sitcom I'm Alan Partridge.

Sometimes mistakenly labeled as a mockumentary, I'm Alan Partridge is immediately removed from that label by its use of a laugh-track. In KMKYWAP, the audience sits in the same studio as Alan's, and he often reacts to their laughter as though to heckling. With IAP, the hand-held camera-work does somewhat mimic that of a documentary, but that non-diegetic tittering causes a riff in the realism of the show, as Coogan and other cast members will time delivery in accordance with the track. Partridge is thus occasionally portrayed as a bit more of a "doof" than he might have been otherwise, in his "hamming it up" like other sitcom characters.

In the first series of IAP, though the laugh-track is a bit jarring, there is still a deep sadness to Alan Partridge. He still often acts like a buffoon, but the series is emotionally connected by his fear of failure (to get his chat show renewed). This is represented visually by a dream motif, depicting Alan gyrating in a strip club for the BBC's Tony Hayers and other television executives. Alan will often act like a fool to try to avoid this nightmare, but as the other characters (particularly Sophie and Ben of the Linton Travel Tavern) are aware of how outlandish Alan is acting, the realism is reaffirmed. Realism is not a necessity for a comedy show, but as Alan Partridge was initially conceived as a lampoon of a particular type of media personality, it is important for him to be grounded in reality. Thus, the world is not wacky, but a desperate Alan Partridge is. This is particularly revealed when, so determined to please some Irish television executives, Alan shows them to the house of a random fan in lieu of his own, and that aficionado ends up being an obsessive stalker. In IAP, however, even this "crazy" fan pales in comparison to Partridge's reactions to him.

The first series meanders in terms of quality, with the best episodes directly connected to Partridge's fear of failure (and thus his unhappiness), and the worst feeling undeveloped and rather pointless (in "Basic Alan," a bored Alan makes for a bored audience). The last episode brings the series to a nice close, with Alan so desperate for his career not to die, that he uses a dead man's hand to sign a contract. The cackling audience does not know whether Alan will succeed, but they do know how low he will stoop to ensure it.

In the second series of IAP, filmed five years after the first (2002), Alan is immediately brought back to his "roots" in the premiere, by giving a talk at his childhood school. But these are roots the viewers know nothing about, having never been established in the first series or before. Likewise, this episode is largely about exposition – Alan's career got somehow even worse, he had a breakdown, and he got fat—all sort of "funny" things that would leave a man as fragile as Alan shattered. Instead, Alan, having "bounced back," careens around, acting doofy as ever. Yet unlike the first series, in which almost every character seems to act as a rational foil to Alan's out of touch personality, a parade of guest stars enter into the world of IAP, each seemingly trying to outdo Alan with their wackiness. There is Alan's young Ukranian girlfriend Sonja (Amelia Bullmore), who in her broken English constantly plays practical jokes that even Alan knows are shamefully unfunny. There is Stephen Mangan as Dan, a seeming younger incarnate of Partridge's personality, yet no longer is it crazy enough just that there exists another human being with Alan's god-awful disposition, and Alan ends up the saner one of the pair, as Dan is into orgies and "sex festivals." The undercurrent of melancholy in first series is replaced by a more "tragic" back-story, and "front"-stories obsessed with Alan not just embarrassing himself, but everyone else embarrassing themselves as well.

(Also, the former Linton staff-member Michael, someone whom Alan never previously seemed to like or be able to understand, is elevated to the spot of Alan's best friend.)

In the last episode of the second series, as Alan's book is pulped and officially regarded as a failure, the tragedy mentioned in the premiere is finally dealt with. As Alan is confronted with failure once again, he has a series of flash backs to his "Fat Alan" stage. He is invited onto a Christian radio show, and in an attempt to not look like the biggest failure there, he insults the other guest in exceedingly outlandish ways. Yet instead of responding with some bigger, hammier reaction, the other guest stops him like a rational human being would, and leaves. A sense of realism is restored. The Christian radio host remarks on Alan's book ending every anecdote with the line "Needless to say, I had the last laugh." IAP's second series seems to suffer from this obsession as well. In order for IAP to be not only funny but compelling, the characters do not need to try to outdo each other with their wacky hijincks and clever jokes. The goofy, but more subdued Alan Partridge of The Day Today and Knowing Me, Knowing You can already bring laughs just with his exasperation. But IAP's second series, so desperate to make the audience snicker, largely dismisses realism, and in doing so, reduces much character quality and consistency, and Partridge's fear of failure does in a way come true.

SERIES ONE: ********/10 (8/10)

SERIES TWO: *******/10 (7/10)

I remember watching this movie when I was a little kid and what a great time I had at doing so! Because, when you're this young you just don't care about plots or film-making. So, if you sit back and analyze this flick you won't find many Oscar winning angles, but that is not what this movie is trying to achieve. We just may call this another typically silly Tom Hank's early age's movie that many have come to love at first sight.

Simply put, this movie is all about funny situations and the comical performances of Tom Hanks and the dog (that dog was a great actor!). Nowadays, I continue to enjoy it because the "chemistry" between Hanks and the dog is very good!

"The Life & Times of Tim," created by Steve Dildarian, is another show about a twenty-something New Yorker working at a monolithic corporation and just trying to get by without totally embarrassing himself.

Except this show is totally hilarious.

"Tim" is sort of like an animated version of those "The Most Awkward Boy in the World" comedy sketches (starring Zach Woods, now of "The Office" fame)... somehow, no matter what Tim does (or doesn't do), it's gonna get pretty uncomfortable. And rip-roaringly funny. Just in the first season Tim somehow gets cornered into fighting an old man, and taking his boss's daughter to her senior prom.

Watch this show.

The animation is a little... simple, like something you might come across on Newgrounds, but don't let that dissuade you. This is a cartoon in which the characters wear different outfits (but still have a consistent wardrobe/style), and one that has many little background details never mentioned, but that are sincerely pause-worthy, such as little posters and reminders hung up on the cubicles at Tim's work, or a sign on the wall of an AA meeting - a picture of a person "losing their lunch" in a toilet, with the caption, "You Need Help." There is also continuity between episodes, recurring characters, notable guest stars (Tony Hale, Trevor Moore, Lizzy Caplan, Cheri Oteri, Jeff Garlin, Bob Saget...), references to Wes Anderson and "Felicity," and many, many hilarious jokes.

"Tim" could be criticized for its use of vulgar situations (and language), but none of it is used gratuitously, or without creativity and originality. Vulgar? Yes. Tasteless, lewd, or uncouth? Hell no. A prime example is an alcoholic priest, a recurring character, and in the age of parish sex scandals, a skewed version of a new kind of archetype. Yet "Tim" does not use this character as a chance for a cheap shot at religious institutions. No, the priest's "wild" antics instead just lead to more opportunities for Tim to have to deal with awkwardness and embarrassment - and that's what the show is about.

Watch "The Life & Times of Tim" or else live with the knowledge that you're missing out on something wonderful.

Each thirty-minute episode consists of two fifteen-minute segments.

The second season, currently airing on HBO, has a snazzy new opening-sequence, but is not lacking in any of the goodness mentioned above.

I don't know why I like cheese pizza, but I sure like the taste. Maybe it's the sight of all that cheese, hot and melted, over the red spaghetti sauce. Maybe it's the scent that tickles my nose, and causes a smile to grace my face.

The first time I tried it, it was dinnertime and I was seven years old. I had just seen what a pizza was, and the cheese pizza instantly caught my eye. Immediately, I knew that the cheese pizza would be my favorite food for life.

Carefully, I hefted a small slice of the pizza onto my red paper plate and waited for a bit for it to cool down. After all, I didn't want to burn my mouth.

Then when I was sure it was cool enough, I picked up a little bit of the pizza and dug in.

It was fantastic! One of the best foods I'd ever tried. A gleeful smile spread out across my face as I savored the cheesiness of the flavor, the sauce underneath it, and best of all, the way it tasted really great.

I will never forget that taste as long as I live.

*********/10 -- -1 because I almost burned my mouth!

I don't really have much of a comment about the film, in the role of play, (i.e. how it was acted). But what I could say, is that the story itself made sense almost all the way though. You had to watch it a few times, not only by visualising the effect, but to listen very carefully to the characters used, with a little feeling, and it's makes sense. Even though the story might be fiction about the belief of witch craft, but from the earlier of years, such witch craft was a little possible, and still is in some cases of today.

When I was too about that age group, I believed in such stories about witch craft, reason being I had heard them amongst other people. But not only about the fact of beliefs, but the story in it's location helped made all the sense.

Only thing is, that the characters played their part so well focusing not only on family behaviour, but the love and understanding of different people that would have been treated differently. I have enjoyed it so much, at that time, as it made me feel a little of my own family. That I would have loved to be part of it. It would be nice to see another film similar to it.

I'm not a Carpenters fan. it's not that I don't like them; it's just that I don't listen to them. but my lack of prior familiarity with the subject did not diminish the movie-experience.

the structure of this movie is pretty much bizarre. it's made up of a mix between stock footage with voice over and "live action" segments, acted out by Barbie dolls. and of course there's the illegal Carpenters soundtrack...

yet "bizarre" is somehow effective. though some images were a bit over-played (showing boxes of ex-lax; male hands; a woman being beaten by a man), the stock footage (and other real-life footage) was a very effective way of setting the tone of the film, and providing background knowledge about anorexia, and the Carpenters in general. the choice of using Barbies as "actors" has obvious symbolism (female has to be skinny, big-breasted, etc.), yet despite minimal physical movement of the characters themselves, the voice-acting was so good that it worked.

10/10 on the voice-acting. and the sets! the backgrounds had so much detail that it was a shame I was only watching a grainy copy with tiny aspect ratio.

I give the movie overall an 8.5/10 because even though I think it did a wonderful job at accomplishing what it was meant to do (make a societal critique about anorexia and the treatment of women by discussing Karen Carpenter's story), it had some technical issues/concerns (not being able to read titles because the background was the same color; using same footage repeatedly), and I just, personally, don't prefer issues being presented so blatantly.

but still something pretty much everyone should watch.

if you have kids, sure, show them this movie. if they have a particular fondness for mice, they will probably love it a lot even though it's kind of scary, take it to kindergarten for show-and-tell, and then watch it ten years later and be reminiscing-ly... dissatisfied.

first: the plot. of course children's movies are expected to be simplistic, but can we really believe, even in a world filled with "mouse detectives," that not only could said investigator unravel a nefarious plot in under two days, but that the nefarious villain could even pull something so complex off in such short a time-frame? really, guys. put in some fades and let it span a week. and the story isn't even that "great" in the first place (where's the character development's motivation, eh?)...

second: the music. music equals emotional undertones, right? umm, not for this movie. the soundtrack was entirely Indiana Rodent adventure tunes, which struck a wrong "chord" when juxtaposed with scenes of kidnapping and general dismay. maybe Henry Mancini as the composer wasn't such a great choice.

third: sound in general. there was no ambient noise! I know this isn't something that should matter that much in cartoons, but with the Pixar-quality of kids' movies lately, it was kind of distressing. the only sound in the movie was dialog, soundtrack, and scarce sound-effects. foot-prints and the characters interacting with objects, etc., had no accompanying sound to convince me of their realism.

also, the animation wasn't really that great.

and with that, if you still do decide to watch this movie -- or if you just let your kids -- then please note some alarming racial/sexist undertones, and have a nice, motherly/fatherly chat afterwards.

This is a nice and enjoyable film.

But I'll admit that the only reason I've seen it is because my mum has a cameo role as the lady who walks next to the mean lady who takes the boy when he is young.

The performances are strong in this film, but I'm sure it didn't have to be as long as it was. The French circus finale isn't bad at all, but along the way, I'm sure children may get a bit bored. And though it was intended for a younger audience, an older audience may take it in a little better.

Anyway it's worth a watch. I only ever saw parts of Pocahontas 2.

This is not one of my twenty-seven favorite films, but it really is worth the watch.

Having-a-plot-line wise, "On the Road with Judas" is a bit lacking, but it is cohesive with the way it was made and was intended to be. See, instead of the basic book-to-movie adaptation, the film suggests that the book (written by writer/director J.J. Lask) has already been made into a movie, and a lot of the footage is interviews with the "actors" in the "movie," as well as the "real" people whom the book was "based on". A little confusing, but it works.

The "double-life" description really doesn't do the film justice.

What was really interesting was the director Q&As afterward (I saw it as SIFF), for it ends up that J.J. Lask (who played the interviewer in the movie) had each of the actors read his book, and then he interviewed them, in character, improv-style. The rest of the movie was written afterward, based on what they said in the interviews.

Also, Aaron Ruell is just adorable.

I went to this movie in order to cheer Rob Schrab and Dan Harmon on, expecting the way simple comedy often ends up on the big screen: stretched and mangled and not-so-funny. But, instead, I ended up being pleasantly surprised. Because this film is hilarious. I'm a bit too old for it to be scary (perhaps the seven and under group would find it so), but Monster House made me laugh out loud. The plot was basic with its own layer of complexities, the characters were lovable and oddly realistic, and the ending slipped by not being too cheesy for passing. Huzzah! I'd recommend this to be watched while in a good mood, with someone you don't mind laughing and making a fool out of yourself with. Three cheers for Rob Schrab and Dan Harmon, making it on the silver screen!

Watched this movie the day after Thanksgiving. Watched it again on Saturday. And Sunday. And Monday. And Tuesday. And Wednesday. And Thursday. Bought it Friday. I've read the book twice now. I've seen the movie... ten(?) times. I love this movie! I'd give it ten stars! I'd recommend for everyone to see the masterpiece made from Chuck Palahunuik's novel! And if I ever wrote a book, the guy who wrote this screen play is doing the movie of MY novel. But seriously, this movie has it all: well-crafted plot, intriguing angles, comedy, action, drama, mystery, MPD, good music, nice shots, great directing, awesome acting. Seriously, this movie is my favorite movie, and I don't usually like movies that much. This is a HAVE-TO-SEE movie!