Jam

Obscene, offensive, disturbing, nihilistic, crude - rarely can be these words said together while describing a comedy series. 'Jam' is one beautiful gem among the whole ocean of fart jokes and mildly humorous and warm sitcoms. I don't say that there aren't any 'fart jokes' is 'Jam', there are some, but they are presente in such a disturbing way in very inappropriate situations. Mentioning inappropriate situations, then the whole show is built up on very nasty and surreal situations. All the skits are sent by very moody and ambient electronic music that adds more to the unnerving feel, and even some horror film like atmoshpere.

Herewriter simply doesn't have much ability to describe 'Jam', but perhaps the easiest way would be - if Monty Python woul have been directed by David Lynch. Chris Morris is genius!

I'm not going to break the trend among the comments here, and I have to support those who claim that Chris Morris is disturbed, one way or another. The 'Jam' series though are probably about the most dark, black and weird comedy I've seen in years. And trust me, I'm a big fan of black comedy but this series has no worthy competitors. Some scenes were almost so weird that I barely understood'em, and yet some scenes were really superb and made me burst into laughing. I like the way Chris Morris plays and deranges everyday life happenings such as the visits at the doctor for example. To me, episode 4 was the best (with the lunatic women with no friends) but I recommend anyone to see the series in a chronological correct order.

With Channel 4 bleak satire/comedy Jam, Chris Morris welds the Beckett-nihilism with the ability to capture in visuals a dreamlike quality of Bunuel or Lynch. Oh, and Burroughs' cut-up lyricism. The acting is never less than well-judged and occasionally downright superb, with David Cann creating many very engaging characterisations- his clinically sedate and perverted Doctor is so well done. Cann features in a sublime scene where a happy, middle-aged man wishes to be literally buried in his prime. The image of him jazzing in joy to Jackie Wilson's "The Sweetest Thing" while sitting in his coffin is priceless.

The "Mr Lizard" and "40-times from the first floor" sketches are perhaps my other two favourites. Morris himself makes an appearance at the start of each episode in the deranged intros- intoning dark tone poems over disturbed, frenzied visuals- and makes three effective appearances in sketches. Episode 4's intro was particularly brilliant. The music is brilliantly selected, with excellent use of Brian Eno's "Apollo" record, Beta Band and a striking use of Minnie Riperton's "Loving You" in the opening episode. The satire of Jam is perhaps an attempt to cope with painful subject matter by treating them as absurd. The emphasis on abortion and children is quite large. In a sense, Morris's comedy is a continuation of the great British absurdist tradition of Milligan, Sellers, Peter Cook (check out Morris' hilarious work with him from 1994, "Why Bother?") and Monty Python, only more dangerous and bleak. Jam's the sort of programme that can inspire endless interpretations, and even if you don't like it, it is undoubtedly thought-provoking about many aspects of life. It's a rare slice of intelligent TV in an age of largely formulaic, bland television. Not as immediate, hilarious as "The Day Today" or "BrassEye", but more entrancing. Morris's rare gift for language use is again on display, especially in the intros; he's light years ahead of the competition in the comedy field and also, perhaps tellingly, the "serious high-brow TV" category. It's loneliness in the modern world, dreams of the ill in a vacuum: welcome in Jam.

Jam, the television series, is a work of surrealist genius that is both hilarious and profoundly disturbing, turning on its head the familiar world in a way that Sigmund Freud would no doubt have relished when writing his essay 'The Uncanny', had Freud been alive today. One of the funniest examples of how Jam manages to make unfamiliar the familiar, is in the 'sketch' in which a man robs a convenience store, with gun in hand. He asks for the change, only for the owner to point out that with a gun, he doesn't need to pay for things or wait for the change. The stirring music that accompanies his realisation of the power he now has is both moving and funny. Adding to the strange narratives is a vivid aesthetic reminiscent of many modern art installations: we see this in the interesting use of editing in which collages of colour, unusual lighting,slow motion film, slow motion sound, and visual effects blend one scene into another, and further contribute to the uncanniness of Jam. Layered on top of the narrative and the aesthetic, is the extensive use of ambient music by Brian Eno and Aphex Twin. Jam almost defies definition and to simply call it a comedy is to mislead. All I can say is that for those who despair of the false laughter and intellectual vacuity of Friends, watch Jam. It is like nothing else you've ever seen, unless it's something else by Chris Morris.

I picked the DVD of this series up while working at my local Oxfam, initially mistaking it for a music DVD as it had been put amongst DVDs of obscure 80s acts. The lack of detail on the box intrigued me so I looked online for more information and the description had be sold. I bought it and took it home to watch, immediately becoming absorbed in the surreal, outrageous, highly amusing and sometimes disturbing skits. Honestly, few words could truly represent this work of art. In no other series would you find a little girl cutting up a murdered body or a mad old man urinating wildly in public, on shop windows and the environment around him. Pure gold. This is a series you must watch - even if you do not truly enjoy it or find it funny it is still an experience.