Archer

“Have you seen Archer?” a friend asked.  I hadn’t.  I had no idea what they were talking about.  It was my worst fear come true: someone trying to engage in conversation about a piece of content pivotal to modern culture and there’s me, oblivious and unable to take part.  “You’d love Archer,” they went on.  Things had escalated.  Now this thing I had never heard of was actually being recommended to me!  I gave the only response possible at the time: nodding silently while my mouth slowly opened and closed.  But I don’t think I got away with it, as the same friend then insisted on showing me the programme while I was visiting him in Beijing.  (This was the same dear friend who first recommended the Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt to me, so he has a strong track record).

Let’s relive my first thoughts during that initial viewing, as this will help to bring the show to life for readers.

“So, it’s some sort of spy agency?”

Yes, it is.

“Wow, this is a work of art.”

Firstly, it’s adult animation.  This doesn’t mean it’s a cartoon of explicit jiggery and pokery for lonely men to watch with boxes of tissues.  It means it’s something for grown-ups that just happens to be produced from moving illustrations, like BoJack Horseman or Rick & Morty.  But everything in Archer is drawn to look like artwork by Roy Lichtenstein.  The characters are pneumatic in their attractiveness (though this still isn’t aimed at the hand-over-fist crowd).  The backgrounds too add to the overall high quality, while sixties lines and styling give everything a slight Mad Men feel.  I feasted my eyes.

“Isn’t that Bob from Bob’s Burgers?”

Following the overload in the eyeballs, my ears attuned to the aural assault.  Lead character, Stirling Archer, is voiced by H. Jon Benjamin, who plays Bob in Bob’s Burgers.  While Archer isn’t exactly supposed to be a successful spy, it’s hard to forget the images of a bumbling family man who flips burgers when Archer is seducing beautiful ladies or rolling about on covert missions.

“Why is everyone shouting?”

The characters pursue all dialogue at a certain heightened pitch.  It’s the tone you use in a conversation where each exchange elevates the previous sentence’s sarcasm, irony or sardonic tone.  It has nowhere to go but shouting, which means that everything can feel a bit ranty, jokes (though funny) don’t stand out and we end up with one level to the whole thing.

“But yes, this is quite funny.”

Once you overcome the scream at which lines are delivered, you can appreciate the humour that laces everything.  Jokes reoccur and harken back to former statements, layering on themselves over and over till you can’t help but chuckle or groan.

“Oh, so it really is only these characters then.”

We more or less stick to the world of ISIS, the spy agency where Archer works.  Fun fact: it’s run by his mother, Malory (voiced, well, shouted by Jessica Walter from Arrested Development), so his relationship with her is the source of about 60% of the humour because it’s funny and silly to work for your mum as a spy.  Around eight characters feature in practically every episode, no matter what, which starts to feel close and closed off across the nine seasons.  Yes, nine.  Occasional relief comes from guest roles, for which some sort of Hollywood comedy actor is always found, like a bit of an inside joke, so you can have a great time trying to place the voice before giving in, checking IMDB and seeing that it was Janice off Friends.

In short, this is a good man-show.  I don’t want to be gendering things as we move into 2019, but the humour can be schoolboy, Archer lives consequence-free and I’m fairly certain the female characters only serve as garnish in order to bait or foil (all while shouting of course).  Nevertheless, nine series is good going, so let’s go through how things have been padded out and what my bodily responses were for each one:

Series one

Still getting to grips with the style, characters and tone, we have an episodic approach with each instalment more or less resolving itself.  There’s an airship, among other retro elements, with most conflict coming from a rival agency (and between Archer and Malory).

Series two

More office management japes creep in, but the episodes climax in Archer searching for the true identity of his father.  We get into our stride here a bit more.

Series three

Things get joyfully further and further fetched, with more action in the animation (versus perennial standing around posturing) and more diverse settings.  Robots appear, as does a mission to space.  Enjoyment peaks.

Series four

Just more classic Archer, with a hilarious Bob’s Burgers crossover.

Series five

This is Archer: Vice.  We depart from the old office and the whole staff end up in South America trying to offload cocaine.  Comedy comes from Pam doing most of the cocaine most of the time.

Series six

Back to nearly normal with more global travel.  Some of the characters’ backgrounds are fleshed out.

Series seven

Archers goes all Hollywood.  I didn’t really get what was going on.

Series eight

This whole series is a dream.  No, really, it’s called Archer: Dreamland and takes place in Archer’s mind during a coma.  It’s a shame he can’t dream up some new main characters.

Series nine

Completely clapped out, the whole thing moves to 1938.  I lost the plot.  I didn’t have a mental health episode, I simply was unable to find any narrative to follow.

After the quick intro in Beijing, I’ve limped my way through this show, possibly repeating series three, or, in fact, missing out whole chunks of episodes altogether.  Because of its constant tone, I find myself easily distracted, even though each instalment is short.  As such, in an effort to make it finally to the last episode (which wasn’t helped by series nine dropping when I was knee deep in series six) it has become a background show I put on whenever I am doing something else.  Many a work email has been bashed out on the old laptop while Archer and Lana scream at Figgis, or while Pam runs around naked eating snacks and taking drugs.  Maybe a close-knit colleague collective of inept spies can only go so far, yet Archer still feels unique in both the worlds of comedy and animation.  Within its overwhelming volume, there are hilarious gems.  So, if you live life terrified of being caught out by someone asking if you’ve seen Archer (and it’s only happened to me twice more and both times I could respond confidently with a big fat yes) try a couple of episodes.  If you hate it, then stop it and do something else.  And if you like it, then enjoy; you’re welcome.

Bob's Burgers

While some TV show episodes drag into eternity, others are over all too quickly.  From Bob’s Burgers’ jaunty opening sequence to its production company’s endframe, every moment of viewing is just right.  I find myself sitting there expecting more quality entertainment, when all that follows are adverts or an awkward silence.

Whenever I meet someone else who watches Bob’s Burgers, I immediately try and launch into a conversation with them where we can compare our favourite quotations from the show.  But then I always get stuck on the fact I can’t remember any of them.  Yet, every time I watch it, I think to myself how clever and funny each line is.  But this might just be the beauty of the show.  Unlike a lot of animated series, it hasn’t had to rely on stock expressions to engage its audience.  Instead, it has built up individual characters over time.

As a fan of the Simpsons and Family Guy, it makes sense I would enjoy Bob’s Burgers, but I can’t remember at all how I first came across it.  As ever, it took a couple of series of dodgier animation and rougher voice recordings for it to find its feet, but now each episode is a mini masterpiece.  Most recently, it seemed to appear in my Sky Plus on Saturday mornings (assuming it’s getting recording late on Friday evenings) and it makes the perfect viewing accompaniment for me when I am eating porridge and scrambling eggs and drinking a mug of coffee after training.

Family is at the heart of the show, so I have ranked the Belcher family below in order of funniness, and, consequently, their place in my estimations.

Linda

She’s the matriarch of the brood, but probably the least sensible.  More easily swayed by doing what seems fun than by doing what seems important, it’s often her whims that launch the family into its adventures.  That said, she loves her ‘babies’ and her ‘Bobby’ almost as much as she loves dancing in front of an audience and drinking wine.  Everything she says is funny.

Tina

One of the perviest characters ever to grace animation, Tina is what my mum would call ‘boy mad’.  Unfortunate for her, then, that she is stuck in the awkwardness of pubescence.  Her romantic dreams are almost always hopeless, but we root for her because we have all been that weirdo teen.  Her strong moral compass is often at odds with Linda’s shenanigans, but Tina has incredible throwaway lines that pepper the show with an undercurrent of darkness.

Louise

An amazing character if only for the amazing voice of Kristen Schaal.  Louise never takes off her bunny ears (perhaps her one weakness) and takes a small-time gangster approach to most things.  Her cynicism and relentless drive give way only very rarely to the more tender feelings we would expect from a small girl.  Adults beware.  In fact, everyone beware.

Bob

Long-suffering, yes, but innocent, no.  Bob indulges just as much of his own childishness as any of the other Belchers.  The difference is that he is the slightly downtrodden father figure with a flair for fine burgers.  Voiced by H. Jon Benjamin (which will make Archer sound like Bob and Bob sound like Archer, depending on which show you start with), his voice of reason is easily ignored, which is great, as it would only get in the way of the comedy.

Gene

Is it wrong that I like Gene the least?  His voice is wild, his roll malleable.  He is the disgusting boy, but both his sisters can be more extreme without even trying.  Again, he is a champion of throwaway comments and the driving force behind the show’s semi-musical nature.

There’s also Aunt Gayle.  If I could add her into the main nuclear family, she’d be in third place.  This is not only because she is literally me in ten years’ time (lonely old cat lady) but also because her selfishness is exceeded only by her delusion – a recurring theme in many of my favourite comic characters (see Nighty Night).  In addition to both of these points, she is also voiced by Megan Mullally.  This lady could read out anything and it would sound funny.

As the show has grown, however, so has the cast of characters.  Indeed, their unnamed Long Island town is populated with a host of outlandish, yet strangely realistic, individuals: Marshmallow, the transgender sex worker, Speedo Guy, who skates around in a pink pair of pants and nothing else, Mr Ambrose, the sour librarian (also me now – see The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt) and Jocelyn, the high school girl whose pronunciation is the most fun you can have with your mouth, or ears, or both.  I have to admit that I cannot abide Teddy.  His whole schtick is that he is desperate to be part of the family, but my skin just crawls each time he speaks, even though he is really a sweetheart.

Threaded through each episode is a touch of musicality, often driven by Gene’s attachment to his fart noise-producing keyboard.  Our closing credits are always accompanied by a reprise of whichever original song has been brought to life in the episode and a skit in the restaurant’s grill kitchen.  I’m always sad the episode is over.  But then, I can just watch another one.