In The Loop (Armando Iannucci, 2009)
Posted: Sun Apr 26, 2009 1:07 pm
An excellent cautionary lesson in the dangers of overly high expectations, In The Loop is at least, at base, one of the most reliable belly-laugh generators I've seen in ages (in fact, I'm tempted to say I haven't heard an audience laughing out loud quite so often - and me with them - since I first caught Withnail & I during its opening week 21 years ago). There's hardly a scene that doesn't have a beautifully-crafted one-line zinger, and most have several. Also, Peter Capaldi's Malcolm Tucker is now unquestionably one of the great British comedy villains, right up there with Harold Steptoe, Alf Garnett, Basil Fawlty and David Brent (here he is in full Rabelaisian flow for those who have yet to meet him - warning, very sweary!).
But I found it evaporated from the memory surprisingly quickly (I saw it last Wednesday), and I think that part of the problem is that there's little substance underneath the admittedly dazzling verbal surface. Or rather, despite apparently extensive research, the film has very little new to say about either the British or US political system. The British government is run by foul-mouthed press officers and special advisers? Government ministers are gaffe-prone buffoons who should never be allowed near a microphone? The "special relationship" between Britain and the US is closer to that of dog and lamp-post? Washington is staffed with scarily young Ivy League graduates? For all the brilliance of a line like "like Bugsy Malone, but with real guns", is this supposed to be some great revelation?
There's also virtually no plot worth speaking of - essentially, it's a series of scenes designed to engineer confrontations, and although many of these are side-splitting, they rarely develop into anything sustained. The film certainly isn't boring, as Tony Blair's former media guru Alastair Campbell (Tucker's suspected model) alleged, but it has no real drive either. We know upfront that all this sound and fury isn't going to make the slightest bit of difference to the ultimate geopolitical outcome, which is presumably why the film doesn't so much end as stop after a limp attempt at a climax.
Given that this is essentially a comedy, it's less relevant (but still worth noting) that the film barely needs the big screen - aesthetically, it's like a slightly less hyper extended episode of The Thick of It, the BBC sitcom which largely spawned it (although only two characters - Tucker and his even more extreme assistant Jamie - are ported directly across, it shares several actors playing more or less the same roles, and Tom Hollander makes a perfectly viable replacement for the understandably uncastable Chris Langham). Granted, it bucks the trend that big-screen spin-offs of British sitcoms are invariably unwatchable, but it also doesn't push the medium to any particular extent. You'd never know from this evidence that Iannucci has a strong claim to being Britain's most innovative television comedy producer of the last couple of decades, not least in form as well as content.
That said, I wasn't as disappointed as I was with the last British film that ended up being just one long rant to the already converted - In The Loop is infinitely funnier than How To Get Ahead In Advertising, and I'm already planning a repeat viewing just to catch the jokes that were drowned out by the audience still laughing at the previous ones. But I just wish Iannucci had done - or even attempted - the same for big-screen British comedy as he did for the small-screen equivalent in the 1990s. The Day Today is still a work of near-genius that stands up remarkably well 15 years on, not least because the news media now looks like a parody of it rather than the other way round. I somehow doubt that even those raving about the film now will still be holding it up as a classic come 2024.
But I found it evaporated from the memory surprisingly quickly (I saw it last Wednesday), and I think that part of the problem is that there's little substance underneath the admittedly dazzling verbal surface. Or rather, despite apparently extensive research, the film has very little new to say about either the British or US political system. The British government is run by foul-mouthed press officers and special advisers? Government ministers are gaffe-prone buffoons who should never be allowed near a microphone? The "special relationship" between Britain and the US is closer to that of dog and lamp-post? Washington is staffed with scarily young Ivy League graduates? For all the brilliance of a line like "like Bugsy Malone, but with real guns", is this supposed to be some great revelation?
There's also virtually no plot worth speaking of - essentially, it's a series of scenes designed to engineer confrontations, and although many of these are side-splitting, they rarely develop into anything sustained. The film certainly isn't boring, as Tony Blair's former media guru Alastair Campbell (Tucker's suspected model) alleged, but it has no real drive either. We know upfront that all this sound and fury isn't going to make the slightest bit of difference to the ultimate geopolitical outcome, which is presumably why the film doesn't so much end as stop after a limp attempt at a climax.
Given that this is essentially a comedy, it's less relevant (but still worth noting) that the film barely needs the big screen - aesthetically, it's like a slightly less hyper extended episode of The Thick of It, the BBC sitcom which largely spawned it (although only two characters - Tucker and his even more extreme assistant Jamie - are ported directly across, it shares several actors playing more or less the same roles, and Tom Hollander makes a perfectly viable replacement for the understandably uncastable Chris Langham). Granted, it bucks the trend that big-screen spin-offs of British sitcoms are invariably unwatchable, but it also doesn't push the medium to any particular extent. You'd never know from this evidence that Iannucci has a strong claim to being Britain's most innovative television comedy producer of the last couple of decades, not least in form as well as content.
That said, I wasn't as disappointed as I was with the last British film that ended up being just one long rant to the already converted - In The Loop is infinitely funnier than How To Get Ahead In Advertising, and I'm already planning a repeat viewing just to catch the jokes that were drowned out by the audience still laughing at the previous ones. But I just wish Iannucci had done - or even attempted - the same for big-screen British comedy as he did for the small-screen equivalent in the 1990s. The Day Today is still a work of near-genius that stands up remarkably well 15 years on, not least because the news media now looks like a parody of it rather than the other way round. I somehow doubt that even those raving about the film now will still be holding it up as a classic come 2024.