April 2010 Archives

I've been prodded toward this British pseudo-sketch comedy group a couple of times, first by Max a few years ago, and more recently by Mandy, a Twitter friend who first contacted me for the sole purpose of recommending LoG to me. Since I was swamped with school work and completely anxiety-ridden over my various exams and research papers, I decided it was a wonderful time to become fixated on something new. I poked around on YouTube, watching clips, decided I liked what I saw, and procured the series.

It straddles a fine line between sitcom and sketch comedy. The episodes all take place in the fictional northern-England village of Royston Vasey. Almost all the characters are played by Mark Gatiss, Steve Pemberton, and Reece Shearsmith (Jeremy Dyson writes for the group, but doesn't act), and their storylines are episodes or seasons long, not just one sketch.

The most interesting thing about the show is not that its humor is groundbreakingly unique, but rather the way in which that humor is mixed with tragedy and darkness. Characters that seem initially to be one-sided when they're introduced are then revealed to be far more complex as the series progresses. Power structures are constantly inverted. Characters that are initially villainous are later the sympathetic victims.

This not only indicates an intellectual appreciation of comedy's workings on the parts of the creators, but also an immense affection for their characters. In their universe, stories can be absurd and slightly terrifying:

Or spot-on mimicries that turn tragic:

Just that alone would be reason to watch and enjoy the series, but in addition, it has fantastic production values for a BBC comedy and Gatiss, Pemberton, and Shearsmith's ability to commit dramatically to their characters, both in comedy and tragedy, is remarkable.

Once you finish watching all 18 episodes of the TV show, their Christmas special, the feature-length The League of Gentlemen's Apocalypse,  and their two live shows on DVD, I recommend you move on to Psychoville, which is what Pemberton and Shearsmith are working on currently. It has a lot of things in common with LoG, including the special dance of comedy and drama, and makes you feel a little bit better when you realize you can't go back to Royston Vasey.

Final project for Printmaking, hand-pulled screen prints

I am going to talk about The Last Hurrah, the tentative (and disputed) title for this weekend. Kris and Max are coming up to Ann Arbor, possibly for the last time but possibly not, to celebrate (for Kris) the graduation of the last of us that she worked on the Gargoyle with. Max is coming because he likes parties and hugs. In reflection of deeply-ingrained ideas of hospitality, I am scrubbing down the house, trying to locate the source of our recent, abrupt ant infestation.

If all goes AS PLANNED (by me), we're going to go to see The Antlers on Friday, and a midnight showing of Hausu on Saturday. Hopefully this is what will happen. This is what the hive mind that controls both myself and Sam Nash, as well as thirty Polynesian boys, wants to happen. The Antlers were one of three bands that carried me through last summer. Maybe because it's great music to listen to on headphones while you avoid acknowledging your roommate's existence.

Anyway, it will be nice to have the excitement and busyness of guests to distract me from what would probably be a long, dull depression in the face of the end of my childhood.

IF YOU AVOID EMOTIONS, THEY GO AWAY

IT'S TRUE; ASK SCIENCE

Sam Nash, a freshman Garg staffer and future Art Director, has proven to be this weird, cooler, mirror-version of me. Besides our similar college narratives (so far for her, at least), we also have strikingly similar taste in music. Last Friday she demanded that I attend a Dr. Dog concert with her and a Garg contingent. Since I'd never really listened to the band, I asked her demonstrate why I should like them, and she pointed me towards a couple of albums. I procured them, started listening, and haven't been able to stop since.

The concert itself was last night. The Blind Pig was packed to capacity, hot, and smoky--even more so than usual. The audience was a weird mix of college-aged hipsters and sort of trashy thirtysomethings. After a pretty decent opening band and a long (long) wait, Dr. Dog came on and, to say it simply, rocked the house. It was possibly the most intense concert I've been to (although, to be fair, a large proportion of concerts I've been to have been classical music or Barenaked Ladies). 

Really the test of the Pig is whether or not a band can overcome its horrendous acoustics and sound good nevertheless, and Dr. Dog really accomplished this. Their sound was remarkably similar to the studio versions of their songs, except with the bass kicked up loud and the energy tripled. The vocals were fantastic, and exceptionally clear. Toby Leaman (above) and Scott McMicken (below) have these weirdly similar voices, which lends the band an interesting kind of vocal unity when singing in harmony live.

Anyway, it takes a lot to get me moving at a concert, and I was definitely dancing by the end of last night, despite being exhausted and having been hotboxing cigarette smoke in a cramped, humid room for 4 hours at that point.

Next blog entry, we'll discuss The League of Gentlemen, the other thing I've been spending my time on instead of working on my Film Industry research paper.

Hand-pulled screen print

But Gargoyle, I mean it's basically been my college career. I made all my friends there. I spent countless hours working on it. I spend a lot of my spare time thinking about it. I guess I might be helping out the new editors over the summer, but other than that, there's really nothing left for me to do for magazine. Throughout the year, I've been telling people that I just wanted it--all of it, Gargoyle, college, etc.--to hurry up and be over.

The truth is, though, that I'll have no idea what to do with myself without Gargoyle to worry about. Guess I might have to get a social life. And look for a job. I'll be a happy girl if I can get a job that inspires the same dedication and passion in me as the Gargoyle. I have a feeling that that's not something you come across every day.