By Andrew Watson · December 5, 2011
In the first episode of Ricky Gervais’ long awaited new sitcom, desperate lead character Warwick Davis asks the formerly tubby comedian if he had written another series of Extras for him to appear in. Having witnessed the opening 30 minutes of Life’s Too Short, it was hard not to think that was the case.
Life’s Too Short is a mockumentary that follows Warwick Davis, a long time actor and extra, who describes himself as “Britain’s go to dwarf”. He prides himself on having built a long career in movies and having his own talent agency for fellow dwarves. He believes that not only is he a big distinguished actor, but also an role model for dwarves everywhere. He takes us around his home and points out his starring role in Hollywood blockbuster Willow, a film which “cost $40 million” as he grins to the camera, before adding “and it nearly made all of that back.” It’s that misplaced enthusiasm that Gervais manages to do so well.
It is the tone that is set for the rest of the show, for all of Warwick’s bluster and belief that he is a big shot; he is actually a man on the way down. His life is slowly falling apart, from his lack of roles to his wife’s refusal to take him back (after he foolishly thought he could do better), to his massive tax bill, the fault of an accountant so incompetent he had failed to realise that the tax system had changed. He is forced to hire a new secretary (The brilliant Rosamund Hanson) who cites her only dream in life to “discover whether they actually sent people to the moon.”
All comedy needs a target, the man who will walk into every pratfall, and Warwick is the classic straight man: believing he is a sane mind surrounded by complete idiocy, unable to reflect on his own personality defects. It shows a great amount of comic insight by Gervais, who has quite carefully considered how a comedy that asks you to laugh at a dwarf can still have the heart and soul that flows through The Office and Extras. Nothing in those opening thirty minutes feels malicious, we feel for Warwick when he is hard done by, but his arrogance tells us he quite clearly deserves it.
However, for all of the ingenuity and promise that Life’s Too Short shows in its opening salvo, it is hamstrung by familiarity. Before it even starts the opening credits, the show depicts the defining feature of Gervais’ previous work: celebrity cameos. Yes, their back. And there are other things bothersome about Life’s Too Short: The accountant, while entertaining, felt a little too much like Stephen Merchants agent. Sometimes, Warwick himself would drop out of being Warwick Davis and deliver lines that felt like David Brent had suddenly exorcised him.
It’s not uncommon for anyone successful in TV or Film to pick up certain habits; you can point out lots of successful film directors and spot certain character types, style of dialogue, specific genres, or even plot devices that just seem to ‘crop up’ in all of their films (James Cameron’s Avatar has a large amount of similarities to James Cameron’s Aliens). It only becomes a problem when it is readily apparent; too many similarities or not dressed up sufficiently and the audience will notice. Gervais finds himself between a rock and a hard place: He needs to sell a fantastic premise, but one that is unusual. He needs to get the fans on his side early, and only thirty pages to do it. Given the demands of that first episode, it is perhaps understandable that it reverts to familiarity.
Also, to be a massive hypocrite, the funniest scene of the first episode was the celebrity cameo. Liam Neeson arrives at the office of Gervais and Merchant expressing a desire to enter the world of stand up comedy, while channelling the personality of his character in the film ‘Taken’. His antagonistic riffing with the pair was fantastically well done and shows the comic touch is still there.
Life’s Too Short’s first episode is a little unsure of itself, but shows a massive amount of potential. Once it breaks out of its straight jacket and finds its own voice, it has everything there to become an absolute classic.