With Channel 4 bleak satire/comedy Jam, Chris Morris welds the Beckett-nihilism with the ability to capture in visuals a dreamlike quality of Bunuel or Lynch. Oh, and Burroughs' cut-up lyricism. The acting is never less than well-judged and occasionally downright superb, with David Cann creating many very engaging characterisations- his clinically sedate and perverted Doctor is so well done. Cann features in a sublime scene where a happy, middle-aged man wishes to be literally buried in his prime. The image of him jazzing in joy to Jackie Wilson's "The Sweetest Thing" while sitting in his coffin is priceless.
The "Mr Lizard" and "40-times from the first floor" sketches are perhaps my other two favourites. Morris himself makes an appearance at the start of each episode in the deranged intros- intoning dark tone poems over disturbed, frenzied visuals- and makes three effective appearances in sketches. Episode 4's intro was particularly brilliant. The music is brilliantly selected, with excellent use of Brian Eno's "Apollo" record, Beta Band and a striking use of Minnie Riperton's "Loving You" in the opening episode. The satire of Jam is perhaps an attempt to cope with painful subject matter by treating them as absurd. The emphasis on abortion and children is quite large. In a sense, Morris's comedy is a continuation of the great British absurdist tradition of Milligan, Sellers, Peter Cook (check out Morris' hilarious work with him from 1994, "Why Bother?") and Monty Python, only more dangerous and bleak. Jam's the sort of programme that can inspire endless interpretations, and even if you don't like it, it is undoubtedly thought-provoking about many aspects of life. It's a rare slice of intelligent TV in an age of largely formulaic, bland television. Not as immediate, hilarious as "The Day Today" or "BrassEye", but more entrancing. Morris's rare gift for language use is again on display, especially in the intros; he's light years ahead of the competition in the comedy field and also, perhaps tellingly, the "serious high-brow TV" category. It's loneliness in the modern world, dreams of the ill in a vacuum: welcome in Jam.
The "Mr Lizard" and "40-times from the first floor" sketches are perhaps my other two favourites. Morris himself makes an appearance at the start of each episode in the deranged intros- intoning dark tone poems over disturbed, frenzied visuals- and makes three effective appearances in sketches. Episode 4's intro was particularly brilliant. The music is brilliantly selected, with excellent use of Brian Eno's "Apollo" record, Beta Band and a striking use of Minnie Riperton's "Loving You" in the opening episode. The satire of Jam is perhaps an attempt to cope with painful subject matter by treating them as absurd. The emphasis on abortion and children is quite large. In a sense, Morris's comedy is a continuation of the great British absurdist tradition of Milligan, Sellers, Peter Cook (check out Morris' hilarious work with him from 1994, "Why Bother?") and Monty Python, only more dangerous and bleak. Jam's the sort of programme that can inspire endless interpretations, and even if you don't like it, it is undoubtedly thought-provoking about many aspects of life. It's a rare slice of intelligent TV in an age of largely formulaic, bland television. Not as immediate, hilarious as "The Day Today" or "BrassEye", but more entrancing. Morris's rare gift for language use is again on display, especially in the intros; he's light years ahead of the competition in the comedy field and also, perhaps tellingly, the "serious high-brow TV" category. It's loneliness in the modern world, dreams of the ill in a vacuum: welcome in Jam.