Writers: James Bobin, Jemaine Clement & Bret McKenzie
Director: James BobinCast: Bret McKenzie (Bret), Jemaine Clement (Jemaine Clement), Rhys Darby (Murray Hewitt), Kristen Schaal (Mel), Arj Barker (Dave), Frank Wood (Greg), Eugene Mirman (Eugene), David Costabile (Doug) & Rachel Blanchard (Sally)
Bret and Jemaine, folk-singing duo "Flight Of The Conchords", go to a party, where Jemaine falls for a girl named Sally and Bret has to deal with their growing relationship...For as long as I can remember, my least favourite comedy act has been the "musical comedian". The presence of any comic brandishing a guitar in a club makes my heart sink. I appreciate the skill in writing music with funny lyrics, whilst poking fun at musical tropes, but it's rare to find a good marriage of music and comedy on-stage. In my opinion, it's too often the domain of a failed musician trying to shoehorn his real passion into a flow of weak gags and rhyming swear words.
Seriously, I can't be the only one who groans when Lee Evans ends his gigs by dragging out a grand piano? And don't get me started on those guitar-twangers on the club circuit, or keyboard-fiddlers in darkened rooms all over the Edinburgh Festival!
With that said, you'll forgive me for not being aware of Kiwi duo Flight Of The Conchords (Bret McKenzie and Jemaine Clement), Perrior Comedy Award nominees in 2003 and purveyors of folk/pop comedy albums that have earned them a global cult following. Yeah, you haven't heard of them either.
Flight Of The Conchords is their latest venture, a leap into the realm of television with a 12-part HBO comedy series, now airing on BBC Four. The concept has the eponymous band relocating to New York, to try and crack the U.S market with the help of useless manager Murray, whose music video budget stretches to a video-phone camera.
The style is relaxed, quirky and peppered with throwaway lines and wry comments from its stars. Jemaine Clement leaves the biggest impression; a sort of pudgy Jeff Goldblum, who's totally oblivious to normal social graces -- like not inviting your best-friend on a date with your new girlfriend, when they both dated each other previously!
Bret McKenzie has less to do in the opening episode, but he has an agreeable, understated rapport with partner Clement, clearly honed through the years. Rhys Darby is more extrovert as manager Murray Hewitt, getting a few of the more obvious jokes, like insisting a New Zealand marketing poster (NEW ZEALAND... ROCKS!!!) would look better with another exclamation mark.
Rachel Blanchard (Sally) is worryingly typecast as the object of Jemaine's romantic affections, as she essentially reprises her Peep Show character -- the cute American inexplicably hanging around with losers. Director James Bobin's camera even shows her in close-POV during one street scene, perhaps as a nod to British viewers?
There's a pervasive charm in watching simple, low-budget comedy from relatively unknown comedians, but I can't say Flight Of The Conchords was particularly engaging. It started promisingly, with a surreal moment as Jemaine starts singing a wistful folk song that encapsulates his attempt to woo Sally at a party (part Dennis Potter, part-Mighty Boosh), but the plot slows to a crawl and rarely regains that opening whimsy.
The singing interludes are definitely a great way to inject the Conchord's music into the format, but the opening number is the only musical highlight of Sally. The other songs are faintly annoying -- perhaps because of their slow, naval-gazing tone.
Overall, Flight Of The Conchords' premiere failed to soar, but there's enough charm and intriguing characterization to justify a return trip. A gap exists in the market for spoof music groups, while the current vogue for introspective, geek-friendly comedy suits the Conchords well.
Consider me intrigued, but yet to be convinced guitar-carrying comedians equal hilarity.
25 September 2007
BBC Four, 10.00 pm
