‘Location, Location, Location’: Why the Best Sitcoms Are Often Found in the Provinces

 by Simon Lemieux


Setting of 'The In-Betweeners'

Okay, so the title is from a property programme not a classic British sitcom, but the premise of this foray into the geography of British sitcoms, is that the best are normally situated, fictionally, in the provinces not London. But why and what got me interested in this. In part familial guilt. My son, in his time at PGS a regular contributor normally on topics related American TV, was back from university for Easter and enquired whether I had read one of his Christmas presents from him, the spoof memoir of Alan Partridge, ‘I Partridge’ the comedy creation of Steve Coogan and Armando Iannucci. Duly shamed, I read it during the holidays, and a ‘cracking read’ it was too. For those not in the know, Alan Partridge, radio and television personality extraordinaire, is in the tragic-comedic genre of being endowed with a sense of self-confidence and importance out of all proportion to his true talent and social awareness. But a key part of the Partridge identity is that he hails from East Anglia, Norwich specifically. Careerwise, his path takes him from Norwich to London with a stopover hosting a BBC chat show ‘Knowing Me Knowing You’ which lasts one series when a guest gets shot by the host, and then back to Norwich working on local radio. His career then nosedives further as he ends up on North Norfolk Digital presenting Mid Morning Matters. This geographical shift from metropolis to regional to regional margins, reflects the sad but entirely self-inflicted peripheralisation of his broadcasting career.

But this focus on the regions and geographical periphery nay absurdity, led me to ponder (Glen Ponder if you will, and know KMKY) how many of our great British sitcoms and comic inventions wrap themselves in the proud flag of provincialism. Not for them the diversity, wealth, fame and glamour of London. Instead, it is the monochrome sound of the suburbs, of Brexitland, of petty ambitions and lives unfulfilled. Need the evidence, here’s a few examples to set alongside Norwich and Alan Partridge;

Rising Damp – Leeds. Dating from the 1970s, and featuring the indomitable Leonard Rossiter as the landlord Rigsby, and his interaction with his lodgers

Dad’s Army – The fictional seaside town of Warmington-on-Sea, located somewhere in SE England. This 1960s classic follows the adventures of a Home Guard platoon led by Captain Mainwaring, played by Arthur Lowe.

Fawlty Towers – Torquay. The two series from the 1970s feature John Cleese playing the rude, maverick and mercurial hotel proprietor, Basil Fawlty

The Inbetweeners – Never disclosed, but a suburb/small town somewhere in the South East, a comedy classic from the noughties with four sixth form boys trying and mostly failing, to make their mark on the world and with girls.

The Office (UK) – Slough. The Ricky Gervais vehicle that revolves based at Werner Hogg a fictional stationery firm, David Brent is the office manager keen to ‘get down’ with his staff while presenting himself as a management guru. He ends up getting sacked… naturally. The US version incidentally, is based in Scranton Pa, Joe Biden’s hometown.

I could list many more, but the point holds, most of the best of British sitcom resides in the provinces, far away from London, where, ironically, the bulk of television and creative output still takes place. This begs the question, why are the provinces such fertile locations for comedic locations.

Let me suggest a few and posit that accident or chance it is not.

1.      Big fish/little ponds. A common theme, is that much of the comedic value comes from the prejudices and pretensions of the leading characters. Nearly all suffer from a deluded sense of self-importance. They crave to be stars, social successes and in the case of many, successful lovers too. But they are small, closed worlds. Rigsby aspires to social respectability, being admitted to the local country club, Partridge seeks to be the face of Norwich ‘To East Anglia and beyond’ when his BBC career goes west. For Brent, it is the rivalry of the Reading and Slough branches; following a merger, who will come out on top? The pretensions and ambitions matter, yet the stakes are so low. It is the fate of the provinces to play second fiddle to the metropolitan ocean. It is the goldfish bowl of the small and the provincial that proves a vital ingredient in the ongoing storylines. We laugh because the world they inhabit is laughably small in the grand scheme of things. ‘You’ll never waitress in Torquay again’ as one classic line by Fawlty puts it. Or one from Rigsby, ‘It's quite a nice view, now they've painted the gasometer.’ This provincial world IS their oyster, beyond it lies danger, distraction or destruction. The provinces represent the summit and limit of their worldly ambitions.

2.      Social inadequacy. Much of the comedy value from such provincially based sitcoms derives from their inability to equal let alone surpass, their immediate rivals. The setting is all the more startling for this. The provincial world reflects that hierarchy based on social class,  reproduced in the seaside resorts, industrial towns and provincial suburbs inhabited by the lead characters. The Inbetweeners are the social outcasts of their year group not least the bespectacled Will a refugee from the comfortable world of the private school. He tries to rise above the mediocrity and crassness all around him, not least by the alpha male school bully Donovan. His desire to rise above the herd is demeaned even by those whose role should be to give him a leg up. This is exemplified by the deep and ferocious sarcasm of Mr Gilbert, the Head of Sixth Form. When Will on being appointed DoE coordinator asks Gilbert enthusiastically whether they should have a weekly meeting, the crushing reply comes, ‘You can if you want but I won’t be there.’  The Gilbertian approach to learning and pastoral care is perhaps summed up best in his farewell speech to the departing Year 13s, ‘At best I am ambivalent towards some of you, but some of you I actively dislike.’

Those in powerful and privileged positions, belittle and mock their fellow provincial aspirants. The character of Brent’s co-worker, Chris Finch is probably one of the cruellest comedic villains ever to be created. Brent adores him, actively seeks out his company and craves equivalence. Finchy usually replies with caustic put-downs which question Brent’s intellect, wit and sexuality. Witness the line, ‘There’s none so queer as folk, or David Brent.’ Given Brent’s constant desire to be an alpha male with the ladies, the slur is deliberately humiliating, yet Brent is forced to take it on the chin. The fawning yet fruitless deference only truly makes sense in a drab, dead end provincial locale. With the stakes so low, a pub quiz, a promotion in a paper firm, the pitifulness of social and indeed sexual inadequacy is all the greater.

3.      Class and social hierarchy. Already alluded to, but a key feature especially  in the earlier sitcoms, is their lens on social class and honours. Class is writ large in both British comedy and drama, sitcoms provide some of the richest pickings. Both the absurdity and unfairness of class are played out in comedy scripts. In one episode of ‘Dad’s Army’, the socially and militarily inferior Captain Mainwaring (grammar school not public school, his father a poor draper not a master tailor as he pretends, of deep patriotism but with no war service in the Great War due to bad eyesight), refuses to allow his platoon to wear medals at a church parade. Dismissing medals as mere baubles, one of his subordinates cannily askes, ‘Have you not got any medals Captain Mainwaring?’ In a class ridden England, in the small world of Warmington-on-Sea, Mainwaring is hamstrung by social class. He aspires high but falls far short. He seeks status in his role as bank manager and platoon commander/commissioned officer but is unsteadied by his chief clerk Wilson, also his sergeant. While Wilson is his inferior in rank in the parochial world of provincial banking and the Home Guard, his suave social superiority, public school education and family links, grate on Mainwaring, ‘Let’s have none of these public school ideas.’ Mainwaring is also the epitome of the inverted snob. At times he raves about how after the war, the country will be run by professionals, by people who have worked hard like him and not been born with a silver spoon in their mouths. Yet he does not approve of his nemesis, Hodges, being Chief ARP Warden because he is only a greengrocer, a social inferior of a bank manager. Those who rock against the system, seek solace and standing in it as well. This is further borne out in a Rising Damp episode where the ever socially ambitious Rigsby, seeks to align himself with a thoroughly upper crust Conservative candidate, until he finds out his views on ‘slum landlords’.

Class is a rich mine for British comedy genius, because it is both aped and attacked. That tension plays out even better in the provincial locations where it is even more absurd and corrosive.

The final credits

So where does this lead? Yes, there is classic comedy set in the metropolis, think Steptoe and Son and Only Fools and Horses, and more obviously some great political comedy from Yes Minister through to The Thick of It. But here perhaps is our answer to why the geography of comedy is so often found in the provinces. Political comedy by necessity needs to be located in the corridors of power, in the capital. My other two examples focus on thoroughly self-conscious working class settings, Shepherds’ Bush and Peckham respectively, albeit containing characters with some social aspiration. But the real snobbery, pretension, and social victimhood, lies in the heart of good old provincial Middle England. Here the middling sort play out their petty rivalries, their aspirations and delusions concerning class, status, place in the pecking order and romantic endeavours. They struggle and strive, surrounded by bullies, incompetents and the genuinely cleverer, the more sexually and socially fulfilled; those effortlessly secure in their societal position. Their struggle is all the greater because it is so earnest, so sincere, so doomed and so provincial. We laugh at them, but also with them, especially if we ourselves hail from the truly ‘squeezed middle’.

 



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