New Years are often supposed to be about looking forward, but given a fair chunk of the population has been imbibing/staying up late or both it ends up being neither, just passing by in a pleasant haze (or with an unpleasant head). New Year's Day therefore ends up being the hangover from the previous year - Doctor Who used it as a full stop to the Russell T Davies/David Tennant years for instance. So it's really just an extenstion of the old year, a grey zone at the end of the Christmas period before things return to normal. So it's a more appropriate time to look back that might otherwise be thought.
And so Channel 4 opened the New Year by celebrating what's probably it's greatest sitcom success (and I say that as a big fan of Spaced and the denizens of the old late 80s/early 90s Friday night slot, let alone Peep Show). Father Ted is proof you can't tell a thing about how good a show will be until you see the thing made. A sitcom about three pressies and their housekeeper on an arse end of nowhere island? And all this written, directed and acted by native Irishmen, the two leads being comedians rather than actors? Never going to work...
Except of course it did. Let's start with the bit no-one outside the writers thinks of about situation comedy - the situation. Ideally the situation is something which naturally forces the characters together and from which there's no prospect of escape, hence allowing certain tensions in that can be miined for comedy. What we've got is three priests the Catholic church have shoved away to where they can do least damage - Father Ted Crilly himself for 'that Lourdes thing' (allegedly stealing charitable donations and absconding to Vegas), Father Dougal McGuire who could charitably described as naive, uncharitably as simple, and Father Jack Hackett, a complete pisshead. And as their occasional visits from Bishop Brennan make clear, they've no hope of escaping (although they do make the odd excursion, such as in The Mainland). And all fuelled by tea obsessed housekeeper Mrs Doyle. It's perfect material to mine for comedy, three contrasting characters in a closed space. And for three series (plus the seemingly obligatory Christmas special) it was one of the most consistently funny and inventive sitcoms seen on British TV. Dermot Morgan brought a sublimated manic frustration to the always-rolling-snake-eyes-on-the-dice-of-life Ted, Ardal O'Hanlon was all wide eyed innocence as Dougal and all you need to know about how good Frank Kelly's memorably grotesque Jack was is when you see him interviewed, intelligent and soft spoken. And even better Linehan, Matthews and Hat Trick Productions knew when to get out, already having decided the show was to end before the sadly early death of Dermot Morgan. They mined three series worth of material, and got out before they started struggling for material.
This then was Channel 4 celebrating one of their great triumphs - about time really given it was nearly thirteen years since it ended. It began with Linehan and Matthews discussing their comic influences, a diverting but by no means essential documentary as most of these turn out to be the best known comedies of the time (the likes of Seinfeld, Only Fools and Horses and The Simpsons), but also bringing up less obvious and lesser known films such as Neil Simon's The Heartbreak Kid and the mind boggling Irish beauty contest the Rose of Tralee. It's those lesser known influences that are more interesting - the showing of The Heartbreak Kid at the end of the evening gave an opportunity to see how they'd drawn from Charles Grodin's Lenny Cantrow for Ted. And besides, anything that gets a Neil Simon film on terrestrial TV is a damn fine thing.
The other documentary of the evening, 'Small, Far Away' was a loving tribute from the writers, director and much of the cast. It covered the making of the series, from the late, great Geoffrey Perkins suggesting a mock documentary be turned into a full series, right through to Going to America and the show's legacy. What it turned into, which raised it above any sort of weren't-we-great backslapping fest was the emotion that clearly showed when it came to discussing Perkins and Morgan, particularly Morgan. Perkins was once again revealed as probably the finest producer of comedy of the last thirty years, ridiculously modest for a man associated with The Hitch-Hikers Guide TO The Galaxy, I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue, KYTV, Have I Got News For You, Drop the Dead Donkey... and all whilst having a perfect sitcom name. But it's clear, particularly from interviews with O'Hanlon and Jim Norton (Bishop Brennan), that losing Morgan at a relatively young age is still a raw wound. In particular, Norton discussing why he could never watch 'Kicking Bishop Brennan Up The Arse' was a poignant highlight, a painful and tender moment. But the emotion was never allowed to overwhelm a typically understated celebration, which managed to capture the essence of why Ted was great without ever overstepping the line into self congratulation.
Splitting the documentaries and the film up were a viewer favourite episode and then Matthews and Linehan's favourite. I must admit to being pleasantly surprised that Song for Europe didn't win thew viewer vote, instead it was one of my favourites, the brilliantly conceived Speed 3 (I needn't point out that minds that can conceive of the absurdity of re-enacting the Speed films on a milkfloat are those of twisted genii). It's a masterclass of plotting, covering cheap innuendo, parody, sharp digs at Catholicism and deliciously delayed pay-offs. I should note I'm exceptionally jealous that my wife saw the studio filming for the episode. And if you haven't seen it you need to do it now. And the writers chose my other favourite, the sublimely titled 'Kicking Bishop Brennan Up The Arse'. Originally the second part of a double episode, it still worked magnificently as a stand alone, the scenes following the titular booting being some of the finest sustained comic tension seen on British television. And yes, it's still bloody funny now.
Which is kind of the point. It'd be pointless celebrating if the evening didn't remind you how painfully funny Ted always was. But for a few hours it did, neatly sidestepping simple nostalgia and providing something far more worthwhile, and reminding you that sometimes spectacels don't need to be rose tinted. The good times really were that good.
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