There is a long and far from noble history of British television comedy shows 'spinning-off' into cinema release feature films.
It was an extremely popular exercise in the early to mid 1970s when On the Buses, Till Death Us Do Part, Are You Being Served?, Bless This House and a host of other popular television shows were given the big screen treatment.
Invariably, the transitions were pretty cringe worthy. Most of the films were mediocre at best and, in the main, absolutely woeful. Notwithstanding, some of them were commercial hits. In 1971, On the Buses was the top earner at the British box office proving more popular than such classic films as The French Connection and Diamonds Are Forever. Perhaps it was no coincidence that the next film in the Bond Series featured a London Routemaster bus getting well and truly smashed up.
But then, like lava lamps and flared trousers, these low-budget, low-brow films fell from fashion. Seemingly embarrassed by such hoi-polloi crowd pleasers, British film-makers entered a prolonged phase of making movies that everybody liked except the public. Hands up anyone who ever paid money to see a Peter Greenaway film? And then it started again. The Inbetweeners was first off the block. Following the tradition of its 1970s forebears, it took its characters from their normal domesticity and sent them off on holiday (Holiday On the Buses, 1973, Are You Being Served?, 1977). The result was an over-extended but far from execrable film which proved commercially successful and paved the way for more to follow.
It is on this background that Steve Coogan has resurrected his egregious creation, the broadcaster Alan Partridge.
Originally a character created on BBC radio, Alan Partridge came to greater public attention in the ground-breaking 1994 television comedy series, The Day Today. His insufferable persona proved popular and enduring with the public and his own television series followed. Alan Partridge was in many ways a precursor to Ricky Gervais's David Brent in The Office - superficial and narcissistic with an elevated opinion of his own worth; the humour of both characters stemmed from mundane social embarrassment where they were totally oblivious to their own failings and inadequacies. When Steve Coogan took an unnecessary swipe at the David Brent character in the media, it was difficult not to be drawn to the conclusion that there was professional jealousy at its root.
Twenty years on, Alan Partridge: Alpha Papa, finds him working for North Norfolk Digital Radio. He has clearly been unable to re-invent himself for the modern era. His always dated style of broadcasting is now even more toe-curlingly appalling. Had the film simply developed this thread of humour – a fish out of water, old fashioned, tie and blazer badge Tory totally unaware that the world had moved even further on, they may have mined some good comedic ideas. Unfortunately, this concept went begging.
Faced with possible redundancy, Partridge shafts his friend and colleague Pat Farrell (Colm Meaney) to ensure that it is the Irishman that gets the sack. Unhinged by his retrenchment, Farrell returns to the radio station during a party armed with a shotgun and holds the staff hostage. Partridge is drafted in by the Police as a negotiator.
There were some early laughs as the film unfolded but these became fewer and more isolated as the film progressed and the storyline became more preposterous and farcical. There were some odd flashes of the old Partridge magic. The scene where he can't help playing to the small crowd of fans who had gathered outside the station to watch events was laugh out loud funny. But the plot was too thin, the jokes too tired, the direction too pedestrian and the whole premise just too lame.
Alan Partridge is a great comic creation. But if you want to see him at his best, I suggest you get the box sets of The Day Today and Knowing Me, Knowing You. Alan Partridge: Alpha Papa is a pale shadow of these classic comedies.
It was an extremely popular exercise in the early to mid 1970s when On the Buses, Till Death Us Do Part, Are You Being Served?, Bless This House and a host of other popular television shows were given the big screen treatment.
Invariably, the transitions were pretty cringe worthy. Most of the films were mediocre at best and, in the main, absolutely woeful. Notwithstanding, some of them were commercial hits. In 1971, On the Buses was the top earner at the British box office proving more popular than such classic films as The French Connection and Diamonds Are Forever. Perhaps it was no coincidence that the next film in the Bond Series featured a London Routemaster bus getting well and truly smashed up.
But then, like lava lamps and flared trousers, these low-budget, low-brow films fell from fashion. Seemingly embarrassed by such hoi-polloi crowd pleasers, British film-makers entered a prolonged phase of making movies that everybody liked except the public. Hands up anyone who ever paid money to see a Peter Greenaway film? And then it started again. The Inbetweeners was first off the block. Following the tradition of its 1970s forebears, it took its characters from their normal domesticity and sent them off on holiday (Holiday On the Buses, 1973, Are You Being Served?, 1977). The result was an over-extended but far from execrable film which proved commercially successful and paved the way for more to follow.
It is on this background that Steve Coogan has resurrected his egregious creation, the broadcaster Alan Partridge.
Originally a character created on BBC radio, Alan Partridge came to greater public attention in the ground-breaking 1994 television comedy series, The Day Today. His insufferable persona proved popular and enduring with the public and his own television series followed. Alan Partridge was in many ways a precursor to Ricky Gervais's David Brent in The Office - superficial and narcissistic with an elevated opinion of his own worth; the humour of both characters stemmed from mundane social embarrassment where they were totally oblivious to their own failings and inadequacies. When Steve Coogan took an unnecessary swipe at the David Brent character in the media, it was difficult not to be drawn to the conclusion that there was professional jealousy at its root.
Twenty years on, Alan Partridge: Alpha Papa, finds him working for North Norfolk Digital Radio. He has clearly been unable to re-invent himself for the modern era. His always dated style of broadcasting is now even more toe-curlingly appalling. Had the film simply developed this thread of humour – a fish out of water, old fashioned, tie and blazer badge Tory totally unaware that the world had moved even further on, they may have mined some good comedic ideas. Unfortunately, this concept went begging.
Faced with possible redundancy, Partridge shafts his friend and colleague Pat Farrell (Colm Meaney) to ensure that it is the Irishman that gets the sack. Unhinged by his retrenchment, Farrell returns to the radio station during a party armed with a shotgun and holds the staff hostage. Partridge is drafted in by the Police as a negotiator.
There were some early laughs as the film unfolded but these became fewer and more isolated as the film progressed and the storyline became more preposterous and farcical. There were some odd flashes of the old Partridge magic. The scene where he can't help playing to the small crowd of fans who had gathered outside the station to watch events was laugh out loud funny. But the plot was too thin, the jokes too tired, the direction too pedestrian and the whole premise just too lame.
Alan Partridge is a great comic creation. But if you want to see him at his best, I suggest you get the box sets of The Day Today and Knowing Me, Knowing You. Alan Partridge: Alpha Papa is a pale shadow of these classic comedies.