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Wednesday 9 March 2011

Review of 'The Trip'


Do you want laughs with that?

Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon star in BBC2’s new series The Trip. Is this gastro sitcom more Lintern Travel Tavern or 5-Star Hotel? Joe Turnbull tucks in...


When I first heard that Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon would be working together on a brand new six part series, I was practically salivating at the prospect. The fact that the  series would be centred around them visiting some of the country’s top eateries was incidental to my gushing gullet. Coogan and Brydon have served up some of the greatest British sitcoms of the last two decades, most notably I’m Alan Partridge and Marion and Geoff. Not to mention that they both starred together in the underrated, often overlooked but nonetheless quite brilliant, Tristram Shandy:  A Cock and Bull Story, a film directed by Michael Winterbottom, who is also the director of this series.

The premise is quite simple- Coogan and Brydon, as themselves, are going on a tour of some of the North of England’s finest restaurants on behalf of The Observer magazine. Coogan invites Brydon along as a last resort, with the first scene depicting a somewhat awkward phone call between the two: ‘It’s work. I’m not asking you to go on holiday with me or anything weird like that’, Coogan says, almost scoffing at the very idea. This comment on the state of their friendship, or apparent lack of, sets the tone for their relationship throughout. Later, Brydon is asked by the hotel receptionist if he and Coogan are friends, ‘No, we work together’, he responds almost irritatedly, a sudden steely seriousness plastered across his face. This quickly gives way to usual jovial nature but the reaction says it all. 

Their initial exchanges are a little strained, demonstrating the clash of personalities between the two, and throwing out some little gems in the process, such as Coogan claiming that ‘the North’ has a greater identity than Wales, much to Brydon’s bemusement. This quickly escalates into a flurry of juvenile sparring between the two with Brydon doing an over-the-top mimicking of Coogan, to which the latter bites back calling Brydon’s facial expressions ‘camp’. The petty squabbling culminates in an impressions competition, with the pair trying to outdo each other’s Michael Cain. This scene is like being tickled as a child; it creeps up slowly on you at first before mercilessly exploiting that weak spot under your arm, forcing a chuckle.

Middle age is treating them both quite differently (aside from the fact they both apparently get more food stuck in their teeth than they used to). Brydon is the proud father of a new baby, with a stable partner and consequently seems more confident in the direction of his life. Coogan cuts an altogether more frustrated, rudderless figure; his relationship with the latest in a string of girlfriends is on the rocks and his career has hit a crossroads. And yet, there seems an underlying mutual envy between the pair, like a bachelor looking jealously at a happily married man, and vice versa. Brydon’s envy does seem more fleeting though. There is some real tenderness behind the machismo too, which to me seems true of many relationships between men: competitiveness masking the affection that simmers under the surface.

One of the most striking things about The Trip is the gentle pacing. Viewers more accustomed to the American super-sitcoms like Scrubs or Family Guy which bombard the senses with gags and absurd fantasies relentlessly, may find this lethargic, even frustrating in comparison. But there is something very appealing about the British-ness of it all; it is a walk in the park on a brisk winter’s day; an involved debate over a pint in the pub; it’s not exciting, thrilling or overbearing but it is certainly enjoyable, entertaining and can occasionally be subtly profound.

Winterbottom’s methods are unconventional; he does not work with a set script therefore allowing the actors a lot of freedom. Those on set are apparently unaware of when the camera starts and stops rolling. Because of this, the acting is consistently convincing, the dialogue flows freely and the emotions are assuredly authentic. The line between fact and fiction is so blurred you can’t help asking yourself, ‘Are they like this in real life?’ If there’s one thing that breaks this cosy illusion that you’re actually a fly on the wall witnessing this humorously mismatched couple, it’s some of the female characters. In comparison to the protagonists they are a little two-dimensional, even clichéd: the flirtatious foreign receptionist or the young, glamorous American girlfriend. Whether this contrast was intended to be ironic or not is unclear. Perhaps this reveals some of the downsides of Winterbottom’s methods, along with the fact of course that there are no ridiculous scenarios, no larger than life characters.

And so it is, the spectre of Alan Partridge looms ominously above this programme, and not just by setting an unachievable benchmark against which it will be measured, but also in many of Coogan’s mannerisms. The awkward stuttering. The rude rebuttals. Even the facial expressions. Coogan seems aware of this himself, in one moment trying to be the anti-Partridge: ‘It’s Steve, none of this Mr. Coogan nonsense.’ This production is no I’m Alan Partridge, for sure, but then it was never trying to be. The Trip is like fusion cuisine: a straightforward premise served on a sprightly bed of impressions, with a dash of improvisation and a good dollop of real-life tension. This is garnished with some beautiful shots of the English countryside, which makes the visual presentation of the programme of Michelin-Star quality.

But the proof of the pudding, as ever, is in the eating. Many fans of this comic duo will be left feeling a little empty. In fact for some, I imagine The Trip will even leave a bit of a sour taste. Sure the impressions are good and the banter is funny, but die-hard fans will be yearning for the guttural guffaws galore of Partridge; the few laugh-out-loud moments seem to recede quicker than Brydon’s hairline. This is altogether more poignant, less obvious. It conjures humour out of the very mundane; awkward silences, choosing a route, table etiquette. In this sense it is more Marion and Geoff than Alan.

The Trip is perhaps an acquired taste, something for the connoisseur and yet for all its maturity and refinement it is still somewhat like a teenager poring over a mirror- it doesn’t know who it is. Is it a sitcom or mock-umentary, a comedy or drama? A convoluted food program or an impressions show with a plot? It is all of these and none of them at the same time. How ironic that Brydon at one point remarks ‘It’s 2010, everything’s been done before’, when in all honesty, The Trip is quite a unique concept, deserving of its own subgenre.

This first episode has sprinklings of brilliance but doesn’t exactly scream ‘instant classic’. It has many layers though, and you feel some of the subtleties are lost on a first watch. So I am sure this series, rather like a fine wine, if not a British comedian, will get better with age. For now, it certainly delivers some food for thought, food for the soul and a side order of laughs to boot. The first episode of course is merely the hors d'oeuvres, which has left this writer hungry for more.

Wednesday 2 March 2011

The Real Politics Behind 'Realpolitik'

The Western response to the unrest in Egypt and Libya seems like classic Realism at first glance but something deeper lurks beneath the surface...

One of the first things Politics students are taught about in international relations is that time-honoured paradigm, Realism. You’ll often hear statesmen, such as David Cameron, talking of the need to ‘strike a balance between idealism and Realism’ in foreign policy. But what is Realism? Realism as an academic theory is older than International Relations itself. Its basic premise is that the international system is anarchic, that is, there is no central power or global government. Under these conditions, according to Realism, states can and should act in their own self interest, whether that be through economic or military coercion (a luxury reserved only for dominant powers) or by making organisations, trade agreements and security pacts (such as the UN, EU and NATO, respectively). No matter how cosy states become with other nations they should always act in ways that maximise their own interests, any state claiming that it doesn’t comply with this iron law of Realism is either lying or extremely naive and will not last long in this cut-throat world.

That’s all very well and good but after lesson number one some serious holes start to appear in the whole notion of Realism. For starters it claims to be an objective ‘social scientific’ approach; analysis based on cold hard facts with no opinionated or normative elements. At the same time Realism has always prided itself on the fact that most competent statesman involved in foreign policy are heavily influenced by Realism...hang on a second, what was that about objectivity? Secondly, Realism focuses purely on material indicators of power such as resource abundance, economic might and military force, when in reality most commentators acknowledge that it is increasingly ‘soft power’ elements such as culture, ideology and ideas where states really exert their power in the modern age. Thirdly, in treating states as these perfectly coherent, unitary actors, Realism overlooks the significant forces at work both within and between states, such as class. It is almost irrefutable that the ruling classes of one nation often act in the interests of other ruling classes regardless of nationality (think the US propping up autocracies in South America for the last 60 years). Fourthly, Realism practically ignores other actors in the international system, including Multinational Corporations, many of whom have greater economic power than even some of the larger states. Finally, (though this list is by no means exhaustive) Realism creates a self-fulfilling prophecy by saying that states can and should behave in self interest and then advising statesman to do just that.

All of which, explains why Realism is pretty unfashionable within most British academic circles. And yet, in looking at the successive actions and responses of Western governments’ to recent events in Egypt and Libya it is clear that Realism still informs the policy of almost every Western power. Let’s take a closer look. For decades the British and American governments have had no problem with Mubarak’s autocratic regime in Egypt because he provided ‘stability’ in the region and they were able to trade with Egypt under his rule. The British even sold weapons to Egypt as well as Libya. It was only once the tide had firmly turned against Mubarak and it was clear that he was going to be ousted that both the British and American governments came out in condemnation of Mubarak’s autocratic rule, demanding democracy be set up for the ‘good of the Egyptian people’. David Cameron even publicly commended the Egyptian protestors for their bravery, whilst just weeks earlier he demonised protestors in his own back yard as ‘feral mobs’ bent on ‘violence’.

The response to Gaddafi has been similar, with both US and UK governments again ‘strongly condemning’ the brutal violence against his own people, and this week there has even been talk of intervention to stop him. Many in the international community are applauding the decisive action and strong message the West has sent out to Gaddafi. But it does really beg the question as to why they haven’t thought to intervene or condemn Gaddafi earlier. His part in the Chad conflict and funding of Terrorism has resulted in many thousands of innocent deaths. Instead, Gaddafi was brought ‘back into the fold’ by Blair and co. despite his track record. So why condemn him now? Well of course as Realism will tell you, because it is now in Western states’ self interest to be seen to oppose Gaddafi and Mubarak so that they are cast in a good light by those that replace them. Not to mention both Egypt and Libya are in key strategic areas and the latter especially has vast oil reserves.

At this point you may be wondering where I’m going with this, all I’ve done is highlight how once again, Realist analysis has got it right and that Realist policies have been adopted. Except it’s not that simple, precisely for all the problems I listed above. Viewing the actions of the US and the UK through a Realist lens actually obscures what is really going on. The ruling classes in the US and UK (that includes Cameron, Obama etc.) are perfectly happy for the lower classes of Libya and Egypt to be repressed, it is only once power is changing hands from one elite to another that they must be seen to be condemning the actions of the outgoing ruler. Plus there is the added bonus that it makes them look like moral supporters of democracy, which is an essential legitimating component of capitalist ideology.

Similarly, both US and UK governments are withholding judgement about the opposition in both Egypt and Libya, claiming they won’t endorse anything other than a Western style democracy. Western ‘democracy’ is not much of a desirable outcome for either Libya or Egypt, because all it does is legitimate elite rule through the illusion of choice: How democratic is Britain when 80% of the cabinet are millionaires? How democratic is the US when Obama’s presidential campaign in 2008 cost over $500 million? Ergo, politics in Western ‘democracies’ is still by the ruling classes, for the ruling classes.

The spectre of Islamic extremism has been oft-quoted in the media coverage of both Egypt and Libya, held up as a bogeyman for the West to be wary of. The West only wants democracy if it picks the right winner. Again this is a question of ruling class interests; Islamic Extremism is one of the biggest threats to consumer capitalism, more culturally than militarily, however.

Antonio Gramsci’s notion of hegemony stipulates that the success of the ruling class lies in the promotion of capitalist culture and ideology, which become so common sense and internalised by society that the subordinate classes actually consent to their own exploitation. It also posits that in order for this culture and ideology to remain coherent and convincing it must absorb dissident elements, co-opting opposition views and actions and bringing them into the mainstream (a great example of which is how the seditious culture of Hip Hop has been successfully commodofied and essentially neutered of its social critique). This is exactly what the likes of Cameron and Obama are doing when they applaud the uprisings and subsequent calls for democracy. This in effect absorbs these movements, (which make no mistake, are truly inspiring displays of people power), and attempts to co-opt them by equating them with Western notions of ‘democracy’ and by extension with the hegemonic interests of the ruling classes.

These amazing bottom-up movements are brave and bold examples of what can be achieved by ordinary people when they are determined to overcome oppression. Other oppressed and marginalised peoples and movements all over the world must show solidarity with the people of Egypt, Libya and all the other countries where the unrest is spreading to. However, we must be wary. These movements cannot succumb to the soothsaying of Western hegemonic interests, and I sincerely hope they will not. Equally, they cannot replace one tyrant with another; whether they are pro- or anti-Western is irrelevant. What these movements must strive to do is work towards real grass-roots democracy, where the people govern themselves, free from the shackles of oppression. And that includes classist capitalist oppression by which Western ‘democracies’ are typified: where the super-rich run things behind the facade of democratic choice, legitimated by corporate media which helps perpetuate the situation by selling it to the oppressed as ‘freedom’. The only way to battle this oppression is through education, direct action, solidarity between and within movements, and perhaps most importantly, by constructing a coherent, convincing and democratic counter-hegemonic culture that can become the new ‘common sense’.