“Extras: Episode 2X1: Orlando Bloom” Staring: Ricky Gervais, Ashley Jensen, Stephen Merchant, Shaun Williamson, Guy Henry, Martin Savage, Sarah Moyle Guest staring: Orlando Bloom, Keith Chegwin and Sophia Myles Full disclosure: this is the only episode of this show I have ever watched. And unfortunately I don’t have a DVD program on this new computer that will allow me to activate subtitles, apparently, so if I seem a bit more incoherent than usual you’ll know why. We open on a jury box. Orlando’s voice comes from somewhere off screen “Maybe I’m stupid...” Oh, honey, that’s never a good way to start an argument. The camera pans across the jury. “Maybe the jury’s stupid.” One woman gets a look like “hey!” and then proceeds to study the ceiling with a rather dumb look on her face. “So many things don’t add up. You say you were in a restaurant. You ate alone. But no one remembers you.” And we’ve reached the end of the jury box and stop on Orlando, wearing a robe now reserved for judges and one of those absurd white wigs that doesn’t quite hide his hair. Actually, it doesn’t even come close. It looks ridiculous is all I’m saying. “And the flowers.” Orlando turns and does his best impression of a menacing walk toward the witness box, saying he finds it odd the man sitting there would send his wife flowers and forget to include a card. He says that’s what he does when he sends *his* wife flowers. “Objection,” says the other lawyer, who happens to be Sophia Myles from the tragically abbreviated series “Moonlight”. For those of you who didn’t catch this show before CBS decided (a year before the Twilight craze spiked big time) that vampires just weren’t “in”, her character’s name was, interestingly, Elizabeth Turner. I can’t watch this scene without thinking about that, which explains the names I will be using for the rest of this paragraph. “When did you ever send me flowers,” Beth adds, sneering a little. Will indignantly says he has. Beth says yeah, name one occasion. Will says when her mother died. Ouch. She snits that a wreath doesn’t count. Yikes. He flails that of course it does! She asks the jury and judge if they agree with this crap. The judge looks like he has no idea what he should do about these squabbling lawyers, which is your first clue that this is not a real courtroom. The second clue is that this whole scene makes no sense given the premise of this series. Will, playing a good little lawyer, points out that this was not the original question, reminds her what that question was and says “let’s stick to the facts, shall we?” She starts to tell him where he can shove his facts - and “flowers” - when the judge suddenly remembers he has a gavel for this very purpose and calls order in the court. Eliminating any further doubt as to the reality of this scene, the judge then orders them to kiss and make up. They look understandably confused. He insists and they make out to cheesy music while the courtroom applauds. Adding to the ridiculousness: the guy on the witness stand is crying and Beth has one leg kicked up behind her, bent at the knee like some sort of harlequin romance heroine. Oy the clichés. “And cut,” the “director” calls and we pan out to see the film equipment, boom mikes and lights. “Can we do another take on that,” Beth does not ask. Everyone scatters. Sometime later, the juror who was studying the ceiling (a series regular as it turns out, which shows how much I know) is still sitting there looking bored while Orlando is off in a corner somewhere signing autographs and smiling prettily. Her phone rings. It’s Ricky Gervais, on some other set somewhere. (His character’s name is actually Andy, but I’m just going to call him Ricky. Don’t like it? Tough. My recap.) He says he’s nervous because they’re filming the sitcom tonight. She’s confused “What sitcom?” “My sitcom,” he says. “You’re coming down.” “Oooohhhhh, yeah...I thought that was next week.” Nice friend you have there, Ricky. He says no, it’s tonight at 7:30 and then every Thursday from now for the next six weeks. He tells her to put it in her diary. She ditzily says she doesn’t have one. He says it’s just a figure of speech. “Are you doin’ a speech,” the World’s Biggest Dingbat asks. “Well, this has been helpful,” Ricky says flatly. “I’m glad I called.” Heh. Dingbat tells him to let her know how it goes. He repeats that she’s going to BE THERE FOR GOD’S SAKE. She says oh, okay, sure...what time is it? Ricky refrains himself from beating his forehead on the nearest hard surface. Instead, he just repeats the time and hangs up. Dingbat, whose name is apparently Maggie, looks over at Orlando, who has finally finished signing the three autographs he was doing when she started her conversation (I know he’s dyslexic, but really?) and rolls her eyes dramatically as one of the girls takes a picture with him. The girls wander off and he comes over to ask what all the eye rolling was for. She sneers at the teenagers fawning over him and sympathizes that that must be exhausting after a while. “Especially since they’re just doing it ‘cause you’re famous.” He looks mildly wounded and says well, it’s not *only* because he’s famous. It’s also because he’s pretty. I wish I were making that up. She keeps banging her drum: they wouldn’t be doing that if he wasn’t a film star. He says yeah, he thinks so. He’s always gotten a lot of attention. She says yeah, well, if he was the “prop boy” he’d just be ignored. He leans over until he’s practically in her lap, staring at her with what I assume is supposed to be a smoldering look, smiles charmingly and says “what, with this face?” Then he goes off on some totally unprompted rant about Johnny Depp and how the girls always walked right past him on the set of Pirates to get to Orlando. Sure they did. Not. He goes on this rant for way too long and makes the world’s worst impression of Johnny, waving his hands around and making scissor motions (“oooo, I make art house movies!”). Then the scene ends and he presumably runs off to call Johnny and beg for his forgiveness. Over at Ricky’s studio a tall dorky looking guy wanders over to chat. Ricky says he’s not sure he’s doing the right thing here – this is not the comedy he set out to do. He wanted to do something real people could relate to but then the producers got hold of it and screwed it all up, as they are wont to do. Okay, so maybe he didn’t say “producers” per se, but you know that’s what he meant. Lanky says this is just first night nerves. He’s worried the script is crass and unfunny “and, you know, you’re right, but don’t worry about it.” Excuse me? “Because people will watch anything. Particularly if it’s on after East Enders.” He promises the morons will help them win the ratings war, and ratings are all that matters in the end anyway. That and merchandising. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go cry for a while and mourn mankind’s cycle of ever devolving intelligence. I mean, I expect this pandering to stupidity from Americans, but when the British follow us over the edge of the cliff we should really worry. Ricky says he doesn’t want that – he wants a credible comedy that will stand the test of time. Then you’re about four decades too late, dear. Lanky says oh, yeah, he knows, he was just saying that because “that’s what I thought you’d like me to say.” Ricky says he’d rather just hear the truth. Lanky says, well, if Ricky’s not happy “I’m right behind you” and he’s already got a replacement for Ricky’s character. A guy who might possibly pass for Ricky’s stand-in if the audience was entirely made up of near sighted people steps up and Lanky says Barry here has all the lines memorized already. “What was your character’s catch-phrase?” Ricky, looking increasingly pissed, says it’s not a catch phrase, it’s something the guy the character is based on used to actually say, then tiredly recites “you’re havin’ a laugh. Is he havin’ a laugh?” At Lanky’s prompting, Barry repeats this line like he’s voicing a cartoon character and Lanky gushes over him. He babbles about how the audience will laugh at him and not with him and isn’t he wonderful? Barry repeats the line. Ricky flatly tells him the role’s taken so he can go fly a kite or something. The director (I think) and some gay cliché wander over to say they’re almost ready to start rehearsal. One problem though: some guy dropped out at the last minute because he was worried the show was “too broad”. Luckily, the part was small, so they’ve got a replacement on the way. Ricky sputters at the mention of the guy’s name. “Can he act? He’s a TV presenter, isn’t he?” Director thinks it’ll add a little kitsch value. Lanky says if they’re looking for a “podgy fellow who’ll do anything to get on the telly” he’s got the guy for them: Barry. Ricky reminds Lanky he was just about to give Barry *his* part. Lanky says he’s very versatile and prompts Barry to show them his one-man version of Romeo and Juliet, which has me ducking for cover under the nearest table. Lanky gets misty eyed and hugs Barry. Oh, get a room. Ricky just shakes his head in disbelief. Back in the first studio, some woman spots Maggie reading a magazine backstage and babbles that she can’t believe Maggie is still an extra. “You know I’m an actress now?” Bitch. She says she was an extra 18 months before she was “plucked out of the cesspool”. She brags that she has a scene with Orlando Bloom later and isn’t he gorgeous? Maggie points out that she actually just did a scene with him. Bitchface says yes, but she has an actual scene with dialog. She would make a nice addition to “Desperate Housewives”, I’m thinking. “Oh, yes, those are some great kids you stayed home to raise, but I have a *real* job.” I’d wager it would take about two weeks for Lynette to run her down with her car. And then I’d have to love Lynette again. Yeah, bad idea. Then she takes a moment to be one of those annoying people who answers their cell phone in the middle of a conversation and talks and laughs loudly with the person on the other end. She mercifully ends it, but Maggie has to suffer through another few painful minutes of self-esteem crushing conversation. I’ll spare us all and skip it. Studio A (plot). Apparently the announcer guy is doing a scene wherein he arrives to work late. He comes through his doorway right on cue, smiling like the cat that ate about twelve canaries and, when the woman already on stage asks why he’s late he brightly says he buried his sister today. Huh? The kid behind the camera says that’s great, let’s move on to the next scene. Ricky says hold the horses, is that really how he’s going to do that line? He takes over the reigns and asks if “Keith” can do the line again because it needs to be a little more “emotional”. Keith says sure, goes out, and comes back two seconds later with the same stupid toothy grin. Ricky cuts him off at the pass to remind him he’s supposed to be *sad*, not *smiling*. He’s just been to a *funeral*. Round three: Keith comes in, looking somber. The woman asks why he’s late. He says “because...” then looks directly at the camera and pointedly finishes “I buried my sister today.” Great. You might just make it in a cheesy soap opera. Ricky reminds him he can’t look at the camera because this is supposed to be art imitating life, not art addressing life. Keith exits and enters with a grin. Ricky points this out and the smile drops and Keith looks right at the camera. Ricky groans and sends him back out again. Take five: Keith enters with a somber look and misses his mark entirely, standing with the woman totally blocking the camera’s view of him as he delivers his line. Ricky stops him again and points out the blue mark on the floor and rubs his forehead repeatedly, becoming slightly incoherent as he mentally debates the pros and cons of working exclusively with chimpanzees. “So, just to recap: come in, not smiling cause you’re sad, cause you just buried your sister, don’t look at the camera and stand on that mark so we can see you on the telly.” Beat. “There’s a lot to remember, isn’t there,” Keith observes. Ricky grumbles that yes, there is, it’s called “acting”. Take six is a complete disaster as evidenced by Ricky’s lines: “Sad! Too far! Left a bit! Don’t look at me!” The woman asks why he was late and Keith says “because my sister buried me today.” I have to stop for a while as I dissolve into a fit of giggling so severe I can barely type. HA! Keith apologizes that he just got so confused. “The thing is, me sister’s not dead.” Oh, boy. Ricky looks confused. “Do you mean in real life?” Keith’s eyes roll upward for a moment. “Yeah.” Ricky points out that he doesn’t work in a factory in real life either. And his name isn’t Alfie. “Yeah, see that’s the thing...” Keith leans closer to Ricky and says “Sometimes I don’t know who’s talking to who.” Ricky blinks for a beat and asks, stonefaced, if he’d rather be called Keith. Keith says it would help. Blank look while Ricky wonders which village, exactly, is missing its idiot. Then he turns and announces that they’re changing Alfie’s name to Keith and let’s try the scene again. Keith goes out and Ricky says “okay, in you come, Keith.” Keith calls from back stage: “Keith me or Keith the character?” Ricky, red- faced, yelps “same person!” Keith goes to come back on stage and can’t get the door to the “factory” room open because it’s decided it’s had enough of this open/close shit and has gone on strike. “That’s lunch,” Ricky calls, walking away in a fit of frustration. Hee. Tee hee! Studio B Plot. Bitchface gets off the phone (again) and moans about having to turn down a small part in a movie because she’s just too busy. Then she realizes they might want Maggie, though, and calls them back, totally ignoring Maggie’s protests. “Does she have to be good looking,” Bitch asks. What the hell is their problem? As far as I can tell, Maggie is perfectly pretty, if dim and a bit low class. But Bitch describes her as late 30’s/early 40s and mousey. “No...all right, well, I tried.” To add injury to insult, a prop guy whacks Maggie in the head with a rolled up tube on his way past. Bitch asks if she’s okay and she sharply snaps “yep” and drinks her water, nearly crushing the cup in her shaky fist and likely wishing it was filled with something a bit stronger. Studio A Plot. Ricky’s sitting in an audience seat while the tech guys mill about. Keith wanders over to sit with him. He mumbles a few things I can’t quite catch without subtitles and then asks if this place is still run by Jews and queers. Oh, great. The loveable dunderhead is a bigot. Ricky splutters that um, yeah, there’s still some Jewish and gay people... Keith chuckles and mutters something about forgetting that “queer” is not politically correct anymore. “Suggests something abnormal,” he mutters. “What could be more normal than shoving your cock up a bloke’s ass?” Ricky just stares, slack jawed, which is pretty much the only way you can react to this line of conversation. “Put this way: if God had wanted a cock up an ass, he wouldn’t’a given us Beaver.” I’m not sure what the hell the Cleavers have to do with any of this, but...oh. Never mind. Let’s end this scene now before I throw up. And now I apparently have to switch to YouTube thanks to a bad library disc. Damnit, people, LEARN TO HANDLE DVDS!! Grr... Studio B Plot. Maggie is still sitting reading her magazine, but Bitchy is mercifully gone. Orlando wanders over to take Bitchy’s former place with his own magazine and asks what she’s reading. “Hello”. He’s reading something called “Heat”, which is probably not as racy as it sounds. She goes back to her reading and he looks at her from the corner of his eye before loudly moaning “oh, no, I can’t believe it!” She looks over, curious, to see him waving a page with his own face, which declares him one of the top five sexiest film stars. Apparently he’s number one. Worldwide or just in England? “Stupid,” he mutters. “What do they mean, these lists?” “Nothing really,” Maggie agrees. He mumbles something I can’t catch, then switches to a different magazine, which he waves at her. “I’m having an affair with my brother-in-law’s ghost,” she reads. He looks at it blankly and says no, not that, the other page. It’s a list of women’s top ten something or other and he’s number one again. Maggie says wait, back up, what was that about the ghost? “My husband’s brother’s ghost visits me at night and I think I’m falling in love with him,” Orlando reads dryly. “Do they have sex,” Maggie asks, wide eyed. Orlando squints at the article. “Well it doesn’t say cause it...” and abruptly changes the subject back to him being number one in that list on the facing page. Oh, and Johnny Depp is number 4. “Really,” she says. “He’d be my number one.” HA! I love her! He gets uppity and dumps the magazine in her lap to remind her that *he’s* number one, damnit. Then he goes off on a tangent about “Pirates of the Caribbean” again and Keira asking for more takes on their big kiss scene. Then he goes off the deep end and says he joked about her kissing Johnny and she threatened to throw up. Uh-huh. Right before she did it in the sequel. Maggie stares and asks why he keeps talking about Johnny Depp. Because he’s insecure about his secret boy crush. He babbles that he’s not: “I never talk about him, he’s boring.” The conversation takes a brief side trip into some reference I don’t understand at all and then Maggie lopes back to the original conversation starter to say those lists are all subjective anyway. “Well, no, obviously I am objectively really good looking,” he says without a trace of irony. She says objectively she thinks he’s a wee bit...and makes a fish face. Snort. He challenges her to a duel. Or he asks her to have a drink with him later, which is less interesting. She says she can’t – she’s meeting a friend. He begs her to just get some coffee with him or something and get to know the real, “normal” Orlando and see just how attractive he can be. I’m only rephrasing that slightly, sadly. She bluntly says she doesn’t think he is. After a beat, his face falls and he calls her a liar before stomping off. B Plot. Gay cliché is urging Ricky to try on some big dorky glasses in the dressing room even though Ricky insists the real guy the character is based on didn’t wear glasses. He puts them on and Gay Cliché and his assistant laugh hysterically because apparently big dorky glasses make anything instantly funny. GC prompts him to do the catchphrase, which Ricky insists again is not a “catchphrase”, damnit. He does it and GC laughs loudly before he’s even said the whole line. Then he hands Ricky a ridiculous afro-ish curly wig, insisting it is also instant funny making. Ricky doesn’t get how curly hair is funny because plenty of people with curly hair were straight men like the guy from Starsky and Hutch and Jim Morrison. “Blacks,” Keith the Bigot pipes in from nearby. Ricky scolds him for being not PC again and Keith revises his statement: “Black people aren’t funny.” Ricky says yes they are. Keith says name one black person who’s funny. Bill Cosby. Whoopie Goldberg. Richard Pryor. Chris Rock. Ricky throws in Eddie Murphy and Dave Chappelle. “English,” Keith clarifies. Ricky sputters because, really, there’s probably two black guys in England period. “Don’t change the rules half way through,” he finally snits. “There are loads of funny English Black people too.” “Who,” Keith presses. Ricky flusters. “Um...uuuuuuuummmmmmmm.” He looks at the picture of a smiling black guy next to his head and stares at the ceiling with a dumb look on his face until the scene ends. Heh. And Charlie Williams, Ricky. And Lenny Henry, but apparently he wasn’t so funny. B Plot. Everyone’s resetting for the next scene. Beth is getting her makeup done, which we saw briefly two scenes ago. Really, what the hell is the time frame on this show? Bitchy is back (joy)_and corners Maggie to announce good news: Eddie the electrician split up with his wife a while ago and is back on the market and he’s just Maggie’s type. She points toward a ripped, exotic looking guy in a wife beater and asks if Maggie’s interested. Maggie drools a bit and says hell yeah. Bitchy calls Eddie’s name and, naturally, the grey-haired, somewhat dumpy looking guy standing next to the hot guy turns and shouts “yo” in what might be a Brooklyn accent. Bitch points toward Maggie and he makes a face and waves his hand like “nah, I’ll pass.” Bitchy sighs and moans that she just doesn’t know where Maggie is going wrong. Taking dating advice from you would be my guess. Orlando comes up suddenly and demands that Maggie kiss him. “No,” Maggie moans. He whines that he just needs one kiss to prove his point and he doesn’t need to use tongue. “Right, if it’ll shut you up,” Maggie groans. Orlando kisses her enthusiastically while Bitchy watches, slackjawed, as her whole world view crashes and burns. He stands back after a few moments and says “well?” Maggie, whose expression hasn’t changed in the slightest, shrugs and says “not really my cup of tea.” There’s a long beat where Orlando looks at the ceiling like he’s trying not to cry and backs out of the room. “Sorry about that,” Maggie says. Bitchy blinks at her and looks at the door Orlando just left through like she’s debating whether she should see an eye doctor or just have her head checked because that was Twilight Zone material right there. Plot A. Ricky is doing a scene where he’s supposed to interrupt a conversation between the couple from before (minus Keith thankfully). The woman is trying to teach the man how to treat a woman using an inverted mop as a stand-in. It’s not pretty. It’s even less pretty when she tells him not to pat the woman’s hair like she’s a dog and Ricky enters, with his dork glasses, and cracks that she would have to be a dog to go out with *him*. His face falls and he mutters apologies and stalls, staring at the script in his hand. Gay Cliché urges him to put the glasses back on. Ricky’s really not sure about the glasses. Gay Cliché insists he just *has* to have them because they’re so funny! “I don’t think so,” says Ricky and every other person who is not blessed with 20/20 vision and depends on their glasses to actually, you know, *see*. Director, or, as he calls himself, “head of comedy” agrees with Gay Cliché and whips his dick out on the table, reminding Ricky that he’s been in the business longer and knows more about comedy than Ricky does and Ricky will listen because “I’m the man with the money.” Ah. Producer. The number one reason half the ideas in television are born breech. Ricky takes a break and goes over to the lunch table to find Shakespearian wannabe Barry pocketing sandwiches for later. Barry blurts that he knows what Ricky is going through because he played a character who used to be interesting and three dimensional but, over the years, the writers turned him into a caricature of himself. Barry walked away and some people think that was a mistake but “I know that I walked away with my integrity and my pride intact.” He looks over his shoulder at the group hovering by the set and adds “I just think you gotta do what *you* think is right.” Ricky takes this to heart immediately and marches back over to Director/Producer/Asshat guy, who he calls Ian to announce that this is not the comedy he set out to make and, in fact, it’s terrible. Ian doesn’t think they should have this conversation here and tries to relocate to his office. Ricky doesn’t care who hears this conversation anymore though. “I don’t want to get on television for the sake of it. I don’t want to be famous for the sake of it.” Congratulations, you are unlike every other “reality” television “personality” who has ever lived. He wants to do something he’s proud of, which doesn’t involve spewing catchphrases while wearing a funny wig and glasses. He wants to do what he wants to do or he’s going to hate himself for the rest of his life. He marches back to Barry and paraphrases the example he just gave of walking away from his devolving character, ending with “it doesn’t matter what happens to him now ‘cause he’s got his dignity”. He pats Barry’s shoulder, causing a waterfall of stolen junk food and sandwiches to come spewing out of his jacket onto the floor while everyone stares uncomfortably. Ricky shakes an M&M off his shoe and saunters back over to the director/producers nonchalantly to repeat that he’s not going to “bend over and take it up the ass” anymore. Where’s Keith? Lanky jumps in to babble that Ricky doesn’t mean any offense to them as gay people, really, and Ricky shoos him before he can cram his own foot into his mouth by trying to work out which of the two is the bottom. Ian takes a deep breath and says okay then, they have two options. Ricky can either suck it up and go through with the show as planned or he can pull the plug right now and waste everybody’s time, effort and money, in which case he’ll burn his bridges with the BBC and go back to being an extra working his way up the totem pole. Ricky falters and glances back at Barry stuffing the stolen scraps back into his jacket. “What do you wanna do,” Ian pushes. “Sitcom,” Ricky mumbles numbly. He then spews a bunch of bullshit about how this could be good and he doesn’t want to let people down and then maybe in the future he can do whatever he wants to do. Or not. Whatever. Ricky? Bend over. It’s less painful that way. That night, Maggie arrives, wearing a ridiculous purple beret and generally dressed like some neurotic drama teacher. She finds Ricky behind the scenes, getting his afro wig fluffed. He spews some unprompted crap about not caring if it’s art but only whether it makes people happy. Apparently he’s taken some Prozac because he further babbles that he wants it to be a broad comedy that anyone, including four year olds, can like “and if it doesn’t stand the test of time, so what? Do something else. You know? Bring as much joy into the world as you can.” Dude, are you completely stoned? She just simpers “as long as you’re happy.” Lanky comes around a corner and asks if Ricky’s sure he’s going to do it now. Ricky says yeah and Lanky turns to give the bad news to Barry, who is already wearing exactly the same disguise as Ricky just in case. We cut to the show in progress. Two men and two women sit around a table at the factory break room, one woman tiredly complaining that she was up until 2 AM helping her daughter with science homework and did they know penicillin was discovered when a scientist accidentally left a piece of bread out too long? One of the guys jokes that the scientists should check under the other guy’s bed because they might discover a new species. Audience laughter that may as well be canned. The woman snaps back that they’d find a new species *in* his bed. The guy they’re making fun of gapes at them and says “I don’t get it” in a rather stupid voice. The woman non-sequiters that she hasn’t gone out in so long that she’d probably say yes if “Ray” asked her out. This is Ricky’s cue to come in and announce his ears are burning. He makes cross-eyed faces and congratulates them all on clocking in on time this morning. Next time, maybe they can start actually working on time too. The second woman says they’ve been “comforting” the first woman, who spent all night (something or other) with some guy named Alexander. A couple bland jokes follow and then “Ray” assures the first woman that he knows she’s had her share of problems and the door to his office is always open. She thanks him. He says “yeah, I think it’s the bloody hinges. Get off your ass and fix it, will you?” She grumbles and says she doesn’t have any tools. “Ray” says sure, she’s got two right here, and points to the two guys at the table. “I don’t get it,” Doofus says again. The other guy, a science dork, gives him a lengthy explanation that sounds like it came directly from a textbook on English grammar. “Ray” leans over him. “Are you havin’ a laugh?” He turns to the second woman. “Is he havin’ a laugh?” The audience laughs. Ricky glances at them for a moment and adds “You’re havin’ a laugh!” More laughter. He jerks his thumb at the guy and repeats “he. Is havin’. A laugh!” Lengthy laughter. And now his smile is almost totally gone as he watches the idiot audience laugh at the joke that isn’t even funny. “Ehhh you’re having a laugh,” he finishes and slips out the back door of the set. He catches Maggie’s eye backstage and smiles at her, then puts his back to a set piece and tries hard not to cry. Welcome to television, Ricky. Oh, fucking hell. That was the end of the episode. Well, that was cheerful. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go have that cry about the dumbing down of the human race now. Ta! -Diandra