David Walliams has done a lot since Little Britain. He’s been a sitcom writer, a sitcom actor, serious actor, wild swimmer, arbiter of national talent, author of children’s books – the new Roald Dahl, some say. For now, though, with Walliams & Friend (BBC1), he’s gone back to the start: the sketch show.
I wonder why. Comedians don’t generally get bolder or more relevant in middle age. And the sketch-show format hasn’t suddenly refound itself as something of the moment. It’s not as if Walliams needed to do it, having so successfully reinvented himself. He’s a fabulous writer, I like him on BGT, I see he’s going to be hosting a Late Late Show type thing in the new year, on ITV, which makes sense. So why do a new sketch show that’s unlikely to have the cultural impact or success of Little Britain?
It’s not that it’s bad. David’s first friend is Jack Whitehall (there’s a new co-star each week, with Harry Enfield and Sheridan Smith next in line). A sketch about male one-upmanship – who has the better phone, trainers, tan, teeth, biceps etc – in a pub is drawn out to breaking point. Maybe “better than you” will echo around school playgrounds like, say, “computer says no” once did, but I’d be surprised.
Their Bad Sherlock routine is more successful – the highlight, in fact. Whitehall’s Holmes comes back to 221B Baker Street to find Walliams’s Watson sitting guiltily in a chair. They manage to be, and look, remarkably like Benedict C and Martin F. Sherlock uses his powers of deduction to figure out what’s been going on (Watson has been having sex with his own right hand, later with Mrs Hudson). It works, mainly because it’s delightfully rude, which both David and Jack are very good at.
Otherwise, it’s observations about the modern world, a bit of relationship comedy, the usual sketch-show fare. Plus more TV skits – one on Take Me Out with Paddy McGuinness, another about a TV game show called Celebrity Slammer (the best thing about which is that it features the actual Chuckle Brothers), another about Middle Class Jeremy Kyle. That’s an awful lot of TV parody in one episode.
There’s not enough range, not enough genuine lols and not enough surprises. It’s all a bit familiar and old-fashioned – and unnecessary.
