Rik Mayall

Good moaning: the subversive sitcoms of the 1980s revisited

The foundations of all British situation comedy were laid by Charles Dickens. If you were to remove that tiresome fun-sponge Little Nell and her wholly meaningless death from The Old Curiosity Shop, for instance, you would have before you, in more pleasing proportions, a rich array of recurring comic characters in a variety of scenarios. There are Kit Nubbles and his oyster-adoring family; Abel Garland and his anarchy-prone pony; the preposterous boulevardier Dick Swiveller; and of course the monstrous Daniel Quilp, at war with his wife, his mother-in-law, and the boy who walks on his hands outside the wharf window. The point is that you look forward to seeing them all; it’s not so much about wit as about foibles.

An enjoyably honest portrait of Rik Mayall

If you’ve tended to think Rik Mayall was both very funny and quite annoying, it turns out you’re not alone – because, with varying degrees of tact, that’s what most of the people who knew him suggested in Rik Mayall: Magnificent B’stard. At a time when far too many documentaries about celebrities are celebratory to the point of cloying, this one was, of course, all the better for it. By his own account, Mayall first discovered the joys of showing off in primary school. Instructed to mime in the choir, since his voice was ‘so horrible’, he did so with the wild exaggeration that would remain his speciality. The laughs he got duly turned his boyhood head.