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.