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'The Armstrong & Miller Show' In The Press...The Second World War pilots finally meet their match when they eye up a couple of comely lady air force personnel. "You see her, clocking my unit and all this... These girls are class though, isn't it?" But after a ham-fisted approach, the boys are in for a surprise. It's the last episode in the series, so I'll be sorry to say goodbye to the pilots and to archly filthy Brabbins and Fyffe (imagine Flanders and Swann crossed with Russell Brand) who tonight try to prove what swingers they are by singing a song about being gay. As for the new characters... well, some of them work and some of them don't. Hapless, clumsy historian Dr Dennis Lincoln-Park is a small joy, but the patronising Dr Tia is just a twerp. But the Public Information Film spoofs have been fun. Tonight's will strike a chord in anyone whose childhood was tormented by dire warnings about the dangers of abandoned fridges. Alison Graham, The Radio Times, 27th November 2009 The boys keep up the high quality level that has been typical of this series, with hapless historian Dennis Lincoln-Park becoming a firm favourite. It might be the same gag week in, week out, but that's the absolute beauty of it. Guaranteed to put a smile on your face at the end of the week. Like musical jokes. Never, ever funny, agreed? And yet, the best sketch in The Armstrong and Miller Show (BBC1) is the one where Armstrong is tinkling away on the piano in an Edwardian drawing room. Then he suddenly and seamlessly segues from Vivaldi or whatever into Gay Bar by Electric Six. Which makes the ladies faint. Funny, eh? Comedy, it's a mystery. Or possibly just pot luck. It's gentle, it's cosy, it's very British, and above all, it's a sketch show that's funny. Hurrah for Armstrong and Miller! While not every sketch is a side-splitter, those that do make you laugh out loud tend to creep up behind you and catch you unawares. Take this week's "Origins". It starts slowly with a group of grunting cavemen cooking a mammoth and then suddenly spirals into some very cleverly observed silliness ridiculing dinner-party small talk. It's brilliant. The Victorian pianist sketch - in which Armstrong keeps breaking into inappropriate and raunchy pop songs that offend his genteel audience - is another sneaky one. Culture buff Dennis Lincoln-Park has another accident with an "absolutely priceless" relic. The fact that you know what's coming makes it even funnier. The Second World War pilots don't want to dig out of a PoW camp because "We can't do escaping, isn't it? Because I've got all my asthma and s*** and he's got issues round worms." And viewers called Fred or Mick might like to know that they get a special mention this week when Miller's character Tom does his stream of "variations on a name" routine. Jane Rackham, The Radio Times, 6th November 2009 The two jovial comedians continue their quest to be the new kings of sketch comedy with the fourth instalment in this series. Tonight's highlight is "Divorced Dad" insensitively telling his young son that the reason the girl his son likes hasn't replied to his text message is because she's "out of his league". Consistently funny if essentially conventional, Armstrong and Miller's sketch show goes back to the old Kenny Everett format of using a handful of recurring characters to tell the jokes. Best this week are the prehistoric couple embarking on a naming ceremony for their newborn, who ends up being called "Mmm": 14 years later, Mmm is a classic grumpy teen forever frustrated when anyone bites into a tasty bit of mammoth. Chalkie Von Schmidt? A spy?! Theres some awfully bad news for the RAF pilots this week in another bunch of very likeable sketches from Ben Miller and Alexander Armstrong. A great old running gag makes a welcome return and a new character is introduced. Alexander Armstrong and Ben Miller's comedy sketch show features the sort of quotably amusing characters that made Little Britain such a success. The street-slang-talking Second World War pilots, in particular, may well be remembered in the same breath as Little Britain's entertainingly verbose Vicky Pollard or Catherine Tate's snappy "Am I bovvered?" schoolgirl in years to come. In tonight's episode, the pilots are aggrieved that one of their "homeboys" has been talking behind their backs ("Oh my days, that's like, er, so two-faced"). Other highlights include Divorced Dad giving his son some frank - and rather crude - sex advice, and Terry Devlin, the Ulsterman Royal Correspondent, talking about the intricacies of the Royal Family's lives. I can't shake off the sense that this show has switched onto cruise control. It's still funny and there are excellent moments, but they come as occasional flashes. There isn't the sense of one belter of a sketch following another. Focusing on the positives, this week we get an inspired 1960s-style safety film that offers a neat solution to the lack of seatbelts in the backs of cars. And there's a new character, too: champagne-quaffing royal correspondent Terry Devlin, who sits in a breakfast news studio with a sweater draped over his shoulders answering questions such as "What would be the prince's state of mind at this time?" with an expertise that turns out to be distinctly limited. Alexander Armstrong's posh/slightly camp Northern Irish accent (if I'm hearing it right) for the character is a tour de force. Elsewhere, the Spitfire pilots have discovered that there's a spy in the ranks ("The group captain's well vex"). And the businessman who strides through the office taking on-the-hoof briefings learns "Beetroot's making a comeback" and "Nobody misses Sodastream". Plus, look out for a cameo from Dermot Murnaghan. David Butcher, The Radio Times, 30th October 2009 More lovely gentle and very British comedy from Armstrong and Miller, building on the strong start last week. There are some great new characters here, with accident-prone historian Dennis Lincoln-Park being a real gem. Good show, good comedy. If Peep Show is the spirit of Channel 4, then Armstrong and Miller are BBC to the bone - harking back to the very dawn of broadcasting with their vaudeville performers, Second World War pilots and public service safety films. Accident-prone art historian Dennis Lincoln-Park is in trouble again. Tonight, he introduces us to an "absolutely priceless" pen-and-ink drawing by Rembrandt. We know from the word go it's doomed, though it's still childishly funny when the inevitable happens. It's typical of Ben Miller that even when the scripts aren't classics, he lifts the material by his sheer comic energy. That's the case with his embittered solo honeymooner who tells anyone who'll listen about how his bride ran off with the DJ. Similarly, his car showroom customer who insists on acting out what might happen in the vehicle if he bought it ends up a surreal tour de force. Elsewhere, there are enjoyable spoofs on The Krypton Factor and the Olympic logo design, and Alexander Armstrong's RAF pilot has had a letter that makes him depressed: "Like with issues around self-esteem issues, you know?" David Butcher, The Radio Times, 23rd October 2009 John Cleese once said that it was harder to be funny than to be clever. The Cambridge-educated Alexander Armstrong and Ben Miller obviously decided to take the high road and go for funny in the second series of The Armstrong and Miller Show. The Armstrong & Miller Show is one of those programmes that it's best to watch with a fast-forward button at your disposal. It isn't that they aren't funny, by any means. I laughed out loud at one new sketch, which replays P.G. Wodehouse without the innocence, with the Bertie Wooster character exasperatedly asking his butler to murder a kitchen-maid that he's impregnated. The joke is that the Jeeves type still inhabits a world in which both the pregnancy and the solution are as unthinkable as DayGlo spats: "Perhaps if Sir were to disguise himself as an Abyssinian?" he suggested hopefully. There was a textbook bit of comic acting from Ben Miller too - in a skit about compensation-claim adverts - when in rapid succession he had to do fake pain and real pain (you had to be there really). But they return to some ideas far too often. The Blue Peter-style apology - in which you read between the bland lines of BBC damage control to a squalid bacchanal of sex and drugs - was funny the first time, quite funny the second but wearing distinctly thin the third time it came back, when we were still only 15 minutes into the show. The Armstrong & Miller Show is one of the best sketch-comedy series since The Fast Show. Since we're on the subject of class, this is probably because Alexander Armstrong and Ben Miller are relatively posh. They are the heirs of Monty Python - via A Bit of Fry & Laurie - in that the core comedy involves authority figures behaving in a way you don't expect. Armstrong and Miller make good authority figures. They are best known as the RAF pilots who speak in modern youth patois. In the first sketch of the new series, the pilots face the firing squad: "No way, blood. I's asthmatic. I could actually die." Jokes about the class system and authority figures ought to be baffling to a modern audience. The 1960s were supposed to sweep all that away. Yet here we are, 40 years later, still trying to make sense of it all. Makes you think, blood, innit? TV Review: The Armstrong and Miller Show The Vicky Pollard RAF pilots made a swift farewell, but sketches about accident-insurance claims and Blue Peter hit the mark. Written by Sam Wollaston. The Guardian, 17th October 2009 It's fun to see a sketch show so deeply rooted in Britishness and tonight Alexander Armstrong and Ben Miller fly the flag nicely. The posh World War II pilots who are fluent in modern-day teenage slang make their usual welcome appearance, this time facing a firing squad ('we never done nuthin'/'I need my inhalaaar!'), plus the duo try to explain away drunken and drug-fuelled exploits in the manner of Blue Peter presenters. The highlight, though, is the accident claims advert for people who have had an accident reconstructing accidents for accident claims adverts. Mad, but brilliant. Sharon Lougher, Metro, 16th October 2009 The second series of The Armstrong & Miller Show was made a year ago and shelved by the brainiacs in the BBC for 12 months to see if it would mature like a fine cheese. Perhaps because we know that, it seems just a little bit dated. Maybe that's us projecting though. It's still funny, containing all your old favourites - the RAF chav talkers etc. The best new sketch is the Blue Peter presenters and their drunken scandals. Traditional stuff but quality nonetheless. (Ben Miller is better). Check out the logo for the lads' new production company as the credits roll tonight. Ben Miller and Alexander Armstrong are embracing their inner toff, with their own Toff Media, and fittingly, that logo isn't even a logo - it's a rather saucy coat of arms. The word is that 2009 may prove the year Ben Miller and Alexander Armstrong finally hit the big time. They've been on the TV map for over a decade now (their first show began life on the Paramount Comedy channel in 1997) but acclaim for their first BBC One sketch series two years ago means that a head of steam has gathered behind this, their second BBC outing. The old favourites of the previous series return - such as the Second World War pilots who speak with upper-class accents but use modern street slang. Among the new characters are the excellent Dennis Lincoln Park, an accident-prone historian, and a teacher who finds inventive ways to amuse himself while invigilating high school exams. A decade after a BBC producer told them they were too posh to have their own television show, Alexander Armstrong and Ben Miller return with another series and a handful of favourite characters from series one. Coming back are the RAF airmen who use the language of modern-day teenagers in upper-class accents; this week they're up against a firing squad and seemingly incapable of seeing the gravity of their situation. New to the scene are three presenters of a Blue Peter-style programme apologising to their audience of children for drunken scandals. It makes for fairly traditional, but very funny, sketch show material. Armstrong and Miller: interview As a clip of re-formed duo Armstrong and Miller goes nuclear on YouTube, the pair discuss their return to their BBC comedy sketch show. Written by Dominic Cavendish. Daily Telegraph, 9th October 2009 Is using the word Gypsy racist or suitable material? Comedian Ben Miller wanted to use the term in a comedy show but the BBC stopped him. Written by Steve Busfield. The Guardian - Organ Grinder Blog, 24th September 2009 BBC vetoes Armstrong and Miller's 'gipsy' joke Armstrong and Miller have agreed to cut the word 'gipsy' from a sketch in their forthcoming series after "debate" with BBC executives. Written by Robin Parker. Broadcast, 24th September 2009 Comedians Alexander Armstrong and Ben Miller have revived their cultural critic characters Craig and Martin for a spoof online review show for the BBC. Broadcast, 24th September 2009 Armstrong and Miller get third series BBC1 has ordered a third run of sketch series The Armstrong and Miller Show before the second has even aired. Written by Robin Parker. Broadcast, 13th August 2009 The Armstrong and Miller Show has an eclectic mix of characters ranging from Rasta-speaking Second World War RAF pilots, a dentist that loves to tell you where he has previously had his hands while delving deep into a patient's mouth, and not to mention the weekly dregs of society that get interviewed only to reveal they became a teacher - hilarious. BBC1's The Armstrong and Miller Show doesn't go in for easy catchphrases - the emphasis is on recurring characters and slightly more sophisticated comedy, like the pair of Second World War pilots speaking in upper class accents but with the vocabulary and attitude of Catherine Tate's petulent schoolgirl Lauren. After my blasting of the woefully shoddy The Omid Djalili Show, it's a totally different story on Friday night, thankfully, with Armstrong and Miller. It's good to see some solidly funny sketch comedy for a change, and this has more hits than misses. The big hit of the series are the spitfire pilots with their clipped street slang lines, and this kind of comedy isn't a million miles away from Mitchell and Webb's equally top material. In fact, Armstrong and Miller could be the reformed older brothers of the more anarchic Mitchell and Webb. Mark Wright, The Stage, 23rd November 2007 If, like Ant and Dec, you've never quite established which is which, let me clear it up for you - Alexander Armstrong is the one who did the Pimms' ads while Ben Miller was the creepy civil servant in Primeval and starred in that sitcom with Sarah Alexander, The Worst Week of My Life. After some very dubious opening titles involving dodgy dancing, there are a surprising number of funny sketches, many of them rather risque for BBC1, including splendid skewering of those 'readers emails' bits on breakfast news programmes. Gareth McLean, The Guardian, 9th November 2007 When this show started, I thought we'd been transported back ten years - Alexander Armstrong and Ben Miller were on the screen together, for a start, but the opening credits also seemed incredibly old-fashioned. Indeed, some would say that the very idea of a sketch show is pretty much passed its sell-by date in any case; that those sublime final Fast Show specials should have marked the genre's end. Alexander Armstrong tells The Telegraph about the joys of returning to the classic comedy sketch show and his favourite Friday night TV. Written by Serena Davies. The Telegraph, 20th October 2007 This late-90s sketch series has been resurrected in the BBC's autumn schedule. Watch it - it's deftly written, expertly performed, different, original and, well, good. |
