Nathan Barley Review
“It’s just stupid.”
“Stupid people think it’s cool. Smart people think it’s a joke; also cool.”
So goes a key exchange between alternative press writer Dan Ashcroft and his well punctuated editor Jonatton Yeah? - the question mark being a legal part of his name - in Chris Morris’ stinging critique of hipster culture, Nathan Barley. By Morris standards Nathan Barley is fairly tame, but I hesitate to refer to anything the man does as representing a kinder, gentler Morris. This is, after all, a man who once infuriated thousands by making a satirical Christmas special about pedophilia and so ‘gentle’ Morris is still bleaker and harsher by far than the hardest output by the vast majority of others. More than any other comic in the UK – or likely the world – Morris bases his comedy in anger, disappointment and revulsion. That he does so while somehow still making it instantly recognizable and frequently laugh out loud funny is Morris’ particular genius.
Julian Barrett – far superior here than he is in his own Mighty Boosh – plays Dan Ashcroft, adored and idolized by the hipster culture he loathes. Episode one sees Ashcroft being widely hailed for a new feature article he’s published in sugaRAPE – a publication he despises but seems unable to leave – titled The Rise of the Idiots. In it he mercilessly skewers the culture surrounding him but the bastards are just too damn stupid to realize that they are the targets of Ashcroft’s anger and simply love him all the more.
The undisputed King of the Idiots, a sort of Idiot Messiah, is the titular Nathan Barley played with a bizarre blend of naiveté, cruelty and stupidity by Nicholas Burns. Barley suckles at the teat of pop culture, latching on to and identifying himself through adherence to all the latest trends. He loves his gadgets but couldn’t hope to tell you why. He’s incapable of speaking in complete sentences. He’s that guy who insists on shouting his conversations into a cell phone on a crowded bus. And where Ashcroft wants nothing more than to flee the acclaim of the Idiot masses Barley openly courts it through his wildly banal – and, it must be acknowledged, often very, very funny – website trashbat.co.ck … and yes, that is a legitimate domain designation. With a bit of work you too can own a .co.ck domain.
After a chance meeting Barley latches onto Ashcroft like a well meaning, adoring leech, correctly realizing that association with Ashcroft is his ticket to the legitimacy and approval he wants so badly. Ashcroft would brush Barley off but for one thing: Barley has also latched on to Ashcroft’s sister Claire, an aspiring documentarian attempting to make a painfully sincere film about a choir of former drug addicts, giving her free access to the equipment she needs to finish her film and hoping to bed her in the process. And, sadly, Claire seems to like the big idiot, or perhaps she just feels sympathy for Barley’s put upon assistant Pingu, who seems to do all the actual work on the Trashbat site while Barley simply runs around playing adolescent pranks.
That the show works at all – never mind succeeding as fully as I think it does – is a testament both to Morris' biting scripts and the stellar work of the cast. Morris knows this world inside out and he is absolutely merciless is satirizing its utter banality. He has characters ride by on tiny tricycles; characters conduct job interviews while idly sending text messages to other uninvolved people; others pass the time playing a sexually modified version of rock, paper scissors (cock, muff, bumhole); Ashcroft’s legally punctuated editor is one-upped by a numerically named photographer who has built his reputation by taking photos of celebrities urinating. Throw in a slew of self absorbed, utterly pointless ‘artists’ and a slavish devotion to the ridiculous trends of the hip and you have a remarkably detailed and scathing take on underground art, music and club culture. But as strong as the writing is it is the acting that really makes things go, particularly the work of Barrett and Burns.
Having seen some of the short films Julian Barrett made with his Mighty Boosh partner Noel Fielding – also present here as Ashcroft’s perpetually wired music nut room mate – I’ve subsequently been very disappointed by how one dimensional his work in Boosh has been. But Barrett is back in fine form here, proving he’s still got some decent acting chops as he gives Ashcroft a certain cornered, helpless anger. Though the show bears Barley’s name it is really Ashcroft who anchors it – it is virtually impossible to read him as anything other than a stand in for Morris himself – and Barrett comes through with a stellar performance. While Barrett fills his Ashcroft with adult, existential dread Burns plays Barley as a perpetual child with all that that means. He has a certain naiveté and desire to please that makes you want to like him but that is tempered with the complete and utter disregard for consequences, the attention span of a gnat, and the simple minded selfishness that also marks childhood. What, you mean there are other people in the world and their opinions matter? Couldn’t be … Barley is a natural force, nothing but id bouncing from situation to situation and not just any id but utterly immature and childish id at that.
By giving the show a single disc release Channel Four has ended up with a set that is light on extras, but gets it right where it counts. All six episodes of series one are here and given a quality transfer, along with the original pilot episode that sold the show to the network. Beautifully packaged in a custom fold out case it also includes a book of Trashbat flyers, graffiti tags and random Barley writings. And those clever monkeys at Channel Four even went and released their set coded Region Zero, so it’s playable anywhere in the world, no specialized equipment required.
Nathan Barley polarized Morris fans on its release, I think partly due to Morris making the switch to straightforward narrative storytelling for the first time as well as Morris taking the piss out of the very culture that has supported him from his beginnings. I’ve seen the occasional complaint that people wanted it to be even darker, but I honestly doubt you could make the characters any less likable and still sustain the show over its duration. As it is Nathan Barley is yet more proof hat Morris is one of the UK’s most vital and important talents. Series one ends with ample room to continue with a second series, and here’s hoping that Morris and company get the green light.
