Loading ...Off The Hook review
The Urban Dictionary gives several definitions for the phrase ‘off the hook’: ‘referring to something being so “fresh” and “new” that it’s literally right off the store shelf’, ‘cool or happening’, ‘exceeding the minimal standard of satisfaction’ and ‘appealing to one’s mind’ are just the first of many. Off The Hook is also an appalling BBC sit-com that is being unleashed onto DVD after first being broadcast online. It is at this point in the review I would include a clichéd remark about the show failing to adhere to the guidelines of the trades description act for satisfying none of the definitions given by our friend the Urban Dictionary.
I like to think I’m fairly open minded when it comes to sit-coms, but Off The Hook pushed my patience to the very limits. I’m often niggled by the term ‘edgy’ when it comes to TV and film. ‘Edgy’ is a buzz word that means ‘we’re trying too hard to sell this to a savvy audience’. It pains me then, to admit that Off The Hook’s main problem is its total and complete lack of ‘edginess’. What we have here are the misadventures of a group of freshers at a fictional university. The first sentence of the press release also tells us that ‘Off The Hook is a new aspirational comedy which combines superb storylines with a young British cast’. True enough, the show is relatively new and yes, the cast are young and British. However, the programme doesn’t seem to ‘aspire’ to anything other than the lowest common denominator so aspirational seems like a stretch (the OED online also has a draft definition of aspirational that means ‘representative of or associated with a sophisticated, stylish, or otherwise attractive lifestyle to which consumers might aspire’. Trust me when I tell you anyone looking to Off The Hook as an ‘attractive lifestyle’ in any way seriously needs treatment for a clinically underdeveloped imagination).
Likewise, ‘comedy’ is a rather generous description (I believe I snorted in amusement once during the entire 210 minute duration of the series, and almost definitely at its expense). Its humour is so broad; it’s insulting to the intelligence of anyone who has mastered tying their own shoelaces. That leaves us with ‘superb storylines’. Let’s scrutinise this claim. In one episode, the two male leads manage to secure themselves dates with two attractive German sisters, mostly through the virtue that the girls don’t understand English very well. To raise money for their double date, the boys take experimental drugs. The comedic climax of this episode involves our ‘heroes’ farting uncontrollably. All because Shane (the annoyingly brash one) neglects to look on the other side of the information pamphlet that came with the drugs! Hilarious! A superb storyline if ever I saw one. Another climaxes with Shane and Danny (the annoyingly earnest one) rolling on the floor wearing sumo wrestler suits! Side-splitting! Another ends, via some very convoluted means, with a slideshow of a female flatmate’s face superimposed next to Shane’s pimply arse! Somebody pass them a Pulitzer! Needless to say, ‘superb storylines’ must be some kind of media-speak for ‘scripts as weak and flimsy as a newborn giraffe with low blood sugar’.
The lack of laughs would be less problematic if Off The Hook gave some kind of semblance of what first year university life was really like. Again, the show more or less fails. Just about every aspect has been watered down and neutralised. It’s particularly telling that the BBFC has seen fit to rate the series ‘12’, mostly for ‘moderate sex references’. I make no claims to be any kind of hedonist, but I’m fairly certain most people’s time at university certainly include more sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll than portrayed in Off The Hook. The characters never even swear for goodness sake. And frankly, my first year was a hell of a lot more enjoyable than the relentless series of misfortunes that befall Danny and Shane. Some uni quirks though are represented, such as the one flatmate who never leaves their room in halls, often playing deafening dubstep at all hours, and the wilful eccentricities of art departments.
It is these few observations and a gung ho cast that are Off The Hook’s only saving graces. Morose flatmate Fred is the only vaguely funny character; unfortunately, he is played by The Inbetweener’s filth-spouting James Buckley, which only serves to highlight how much better that show is and how transparently Off The Hook wishes to emulate its success. This, however, is not enough to save this lame duck of a TV show. Given its heritage of championing comedy and dedication to exposing new comedic talent, it is frustrating how the BBC can be responsible for such dross. This is the broadcaster that launched Ricky Gervais’ career – the closest Off The Hook gets to Gervais-like wit is that the show feels as much as a parody of a sit-com as ‘When The Whistle Blows’ is on Extras. Only Off The Hook is for real. The show’s faults can be summed up most succinctly in its lack of bravery and realism belied by its certification – a comedy about university for twelve year olds. And stupid twelve year olds at that.
