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!

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 has been described as being the televisual version of the state of mind you're in when you've been awake for 3 days or sedated on strange mind-drugs. I'd go along with that. It also happens to be the best thing seen on TV for a long, long time. Visually, it is simply stunning. One sketch will be shot a grainy security camera, the next on high quality widescreen film, one might be in negative, while another would use stop-motion photography. The content is incredibly dark, in Chris Morris' bizarre other world where every seems right on the outside, but not far beneath the surface lurks something altogether wrong and loony. A demented mother asks a plumber to fix her dead baby, a man commits suicide by jumping off a first floor window 40 times in case he'd change his mind. Morris' script and the superb cast's acting makes you laugh all the way through, and that's the really scary bit.

Brilliant mix of horror and comedy, like David Lynch meets British humor. It's all very over the top and offensive and dark. Definitely not for everyone (not many people can laugh at jokes about dead babies and abortion or death in general). This show needs more, how to say this, an acquired taste and very very open mind. Like every other British sketch show 'Jams' roots lies in the absurd humor of Monty Python. Dark jokes are mixed with ambient music that creates nice horror film like vibe. The sketches sometimes make you think about what you just witnessed that you need to pause before you continue watching. They are actually more deep and philosophical than regular viewer might used to. Every episode starts with different intro where Chris Morris reads a poem and then welcomes us into 'Jam'. All these intros are pieces of pure art all by themselves.

And it's all as fantastic as if you die you want to come back as a snare drum.

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.