Christmas Beans

My initial plan for this week’s column was to discuss the cancelation of the new Seth Rogan and James Franco film, The Interview.

However while I was writing it, my personal details were hacked via the internet. I now have a Google+ account I never asked for and someone keeps placing orders with Moon Pig.

So instead I thought I’d take a look back at another classic Christmas comedy and this week, I’ve turned my attention to Merry Christmas Mr. Bean.

People often look back at Rowan Atkinson’s tenure as Mr. Bean and think it pales in comparison to his other roles – Blackadder, Not the Nine O’Clock News, the doctor in Maybe Baby. But, putting aside that god awful Snickers advert, I for one, think Mr. Bean is some of his finest work.

Mr. Bean was the perfect union of Rowan Atkinson, Richard Curtis and Howard Goodall. It’s a combination that is still as rich today as it ever was; sharp writing, crisp performances with a soundtrack that perfectly compliments the comedy.

I realise there have been many unsung heroes in Mr. Bean’s history – namely Robin Driscoll and Mel Smith – but the show feels like the brain child of three people at the top of their game.

For me, the Christmas edition combines all the things we love about Mr. Bean in a sweet, hilarious and festive package. Just to be clear, the episode I’m talking about is widely remembered as the one where he gets a turkey stuck on his head (not to be confused with the American reboot – Friends). What astounded me watching it back, was that so much comic brilliance occurs before we even get to the turkey balaclava bit.

Starting off in Harrods, I like to think of the opening scene as a satirical deconstruction of commercialism and the upper classes. But really, it’s just an sequence in which Mr. Bean recreates the classic nativity story with a bunch of toys and the baby Jesus.

It would be very hard to explain this to someone who hadn’t seen it, suggesting that a locked off shot of some hands dicking around with little figurines was staggeringly funny. And yet, such is the brilliant of Mr. Atkinson and his pitch perfect timing that the sequence absolutely works, without the use of facial expressions or any real dialogue.

I think it’s the silent comedy feel to the character that gives it such a timeless appeal. Watching the Christmas edition back, I knew every joke was coming, having worn the VHS out as a child, and yet I laughed as though I were a six year old again.

There are so many memorable moments in the festive episode that I don’t want to do it the injustice of reeling them all off. What I would say is that few things make me giggle as much as Mr. Bean in charge of a brass band, few things warm my heart like the site of Teddy getting new eyes while Bean gets a pair of – his words – Christmas sock, and few jokes are as perfectly timed as the reveal of Irma Gobb’s engagement ring.

I must also give credit to a scene that happens to be the most heartbreaking moment ever committed to film. You can forget your Green Miles or the Faults in Your Stars, for me Mr. Bean hits the emotional jackpot. Schindler and his list can piss off if they think they pack a more emotional punch than the sight of a grown man posting himself Christmas cards.

That, friends, is how you write drama. Devastating.

So, if you’ve never seen Merry Christmas Mr. Bean or at least haven’t watched it since those days when ITV seemed more like a respectable broadcaster; then I urge you to give it a go. You’ll be so happy, anyone would think you’d found a Classic Ship under the Christmas tree.

Merry Christmas.