Nighty Night

After so many American boxsets, I really want to focus on a good old piece of BBC comedy.  And in high contrast to the whitened straightened teeth and sunny scenes of Hollywood’s finest comedies and dramas, Nighty Night’s darker-than-dark humour and parade of grotesque imagination is the perfect antidote.  No other show has inspired so many in-jokes or turns of phrase among groups of my friends.  Both series aired between 2004 and 2005, before I hammered the DVDs into obliteration following their home entertainment release.

But why is one obscure BBC sitcom so significant?  There must be many reasons, but I can’t really put my finger on any of them.  Instead, I will tit about with the things about it that I like, because I can do whatever I want.  Firstly, the setting.  Nighty Night is set in the worst place imaginable: a suburban British cul-de-sac.  Statistics I have made up show that over half of all middle-class Brits start their lives in these sorts of soulless wastelands, with the other half aiming to move into these sorts of soulless wastelands at a later point in their life journey.  So close to home was Nighty Night’s setting, that some of the outdoor scenes were recognisably filmed in Dorking, a crap town down the road from my own, Leatherhead, rated the crappest of all towns.  Take that, New York and other such glamorous locations.  Places I have been in have been on telly.

Secondly, the lead character is evil.  It’s normally hard to root for a baddie, but this one has a West Country accent.  Therefore, even the shadiest statements sound cheery and reasonable.  Julia Davis, who also created and wrote the show, plays Jill Tyrell.  You might recognise Julia from the background of loads of different British comedies, which is really bad as I only like it when she is at the front.  She was even in Gavin And Stacey (which I have never watched, purely because everyone used to watch it and that put me off, when normally it makes me want to watching something).  While the rest of us ignore or suppress our selfish side, Jill embraces hers.  So much so that, when new neighbours Cath and Don arrive, she wastes no time in making Cath’s life hell in order to live out her fantasy of seducing Don (or any of their sons; she’s not that picky).  I should point out that Cath has MS and is in a wheelchair.  I should also point out that Jill removes her own husband from the scene by checking him into a hospice for the terminally ill, despite him being fighting fit.  Nothing can deter Jill from her goal.  In fact, Cath’s inability to stop being British and polite is what allows Jill to walk all over her. 

And not just walk all over her, but drive her around until she vomits after hearing she gets travel sick, put on a meaty buffet despite knowing Cath is vegetarian, slam a door in Cath’s face leaving her alone in the garden while pretending someone has called her back in the house, “Pardon?”, have her dog jump all over her after finding out she had a run in with an Alsatian as a girl.  There is simply so much that going through it all here, while hilarious, would not do it any justice.  The main life teaching from this is that if someone lets you take advantage of them, then go for your life.  It’s their own stupid fault.

Finally, the supporting characters are worth their weight in gold.  From Ruth Jones’s asthmatic Linda, to an awkward Angus Deayton as loverat Don himself, not to mention Mark Gatiss as the repulsive Glen.  Jill horrifically manipulates each and every one of them in the cruellest way and in the vilest scenes, but somehow watching it is pure bliss.

Do not watch this if you are easily offended.  Do watch this if you need to cut loose from beautiful people in beautiful situations.  Do watch this is you can laugh at anything and live with the guilt, or better yet, not experience the guilt at all.  Do watch it if you want to be reminded of how risky the BBC used to be with its comedy.  My only warning for those that do watch it is not to do with the offensive content, but the fact that, after the dating agency scene, you will never be able to say “thank you” the same way ever again.