If TV programmes can jump the shark then so too can characters. And if producers aren’t careful then beloved creations will be leapfrogging a great white quicker than you can say “David Brent’s got an album out”.
Keith Barret’s first TV appearance was in the 2000 BBC mockumentary Marion & Geoff. Series one consisted of 10 nine-minute episodes in which Barret drove around in his cab monologuing to a fixed camera – a format so lo-fi it makes Peter Kay’s Car Share look like Fast & Furious 6. In various states of cheerful denial and mild-mannered acceptance, the Welshman ruminated on the collapse of his marriage to touchingly comic effect. “I don’t feel like I’ve lost a wife,” he said of his ex-spouse Marion’s affair with her colleague Geoff, “I feel like I’ve gained a friend.”
Carried by Rob Brydon’s delicate acting, the show was full of pathos and tinged with real darkness. Was Barret a happy-go-lucky manchild making the best of a bad hand or repressing his emotions to the point of psychosis? Included were moments when Keith essentially stalked his estranged family. In one episode he pursued Marion, Geoff and the kids as far as Euro Disney. He ended up alone, hugging some Winnie-the-Pooh merchandise, repeating the words: “I’m all right, I’m fine.”
Series one was succeeded by a feature-length prequel with a supporting cast, which documented Keith’s discovery of Marion’s infidelity. Taking place at a family barbecue, its most distressing scenes were filmed by one of Keith’s “little smashers”. This wasn’t the point when Barret jumped shark, nor was the second series in which the episodes were extended to 30 minutes and Keith worked as a chauffeur.
The fact that his own name appeared in the programme’s title forewarned us that The Keith Barret Show would lack the subtle charm of its precursors. The premise that humble Keith would have landed his own chatshow was incongruous from the outset. A selfhood of his former shadow, Barret Mk II had been removed from the safety of the car and now strutted before a studio audience as a spoof relationship guru.
Recalling Ali G’s stiffly chummy ribbing of the Beckhams for Red Nose Day in 2001, Barret engaged in sassy banter with notable Heat-mag-centric couples of the mid-2000s. Brian and Kerry McFadden. Darren Day and Suzanne Shaw. Lembit Opik and Siân Lloyd. Many have since split. Thankfully, Richard and Judy remain as solid as a rock. Partaking in hackneyed Mr & Mrs antics and learning seduction techniques from Paul McKenna, Barret had become a Frankenstein’s monster constructed from the constituent parts of Sacha Baron Cohen, Ricky Gervais, Alan Partridge, Mrs Merton and Buttons of pantomime fame.
The show may have run for two series but the shark had been jumped by episode one, season one. Had his persona remained consistent, Barret would more likely have complimented the shark as it gnawed at his leg, viewing it less as the loss of a limb than the gaining of a ravenous pet.
