Jam

Chris Morris is very likely disturbed. But in the way that people buy the paintings and doodlings of the clinically insane, Channel 4 has realised that he's disturbed in a way that makes compelling television - compelling in the sense that it's almost impossible to stop watching because you just have to see what's going to happen next. Maybe I've just lived a very sheltered life, but I had no idea that television could be this deranged or bleak. I'm not sure whether it's genius or pretensious planned lunacy, but I am sure that I'll be watching the rest of the series - though I may never be the same again by the end.

Brilliant, offencive, innovative, hilarious. Just four of the words I would use to describe a programme more surreal than Monty Python and The Mighty Boosh combined. Jam goes beyond the conventional thinking outside the box; it ambitiously and successfully thinks outside the storage depot. You'll find yourself whirling in a pool of confusion, not knowing whether to laugh or maintain the uncomfortable silence that the intro produces. The music score creates a ambiance that either reflects the scene perfectly, or creates a relaxing contrast to an awkward situation. If you're offended easily by taboo topics, then Jam isn't for you. If, however, your evening meal comprises of going to an Indian restaurant and attacking your friend because he broke the popodoms, then welcome in Jam.

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.

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.

I have a unique relationship with Jam, as I'm sure many other viewers do too.

Never before Jam have I watched a comedy show which remains completely compelling even though I found that a good 70% of the sketches weren't conventionally "funny".

That's not to say the series isn't amusing: it is, frequently. A few sketches did have me laughing out loud. But more often than not it produces hushed, disquieted laughs that you almost feel ashamed for producing.

This is to the show's credit, since it deliberately possesses a uniquely weird and disturbing atmosphere. Sketches frequently take familiar situations or concepts and bury them under an insane haze that seems equal parts bad drug trip and delirious nightmare. The visuals and sound frequently distort, rendering even "simple" sketch setups creepy or unusual.

There is almost always an intelligent thought or meaning behind the bleak tone and disorientating effects. One of my favourite sketches features a well-to-do man narrating a story regarding a man's absurd suicide attempt and provides a surprisingly poignant satire of lacklustre mental health care and bystander apathy in society.

The cast is great - Mark Heap is one of my favourite actors/comics, and gives another splendid performance in his varied roles here. Morris' writing and performance is top notch, as is David Cann's and...well, pretty much everyone, really.

The intro clips also bear mention: each episode is opened with Morris performing a very dark and disjointed poetic monologue linking the (usually horrific) fates of several characters. The intros are universally fantastic and really show off the talent of Morris at his best.

The show does have disadvantages: chiefly, the sketch content sometimes goes over borders many viewers will be uncomfortable with. Indeed, sketches featuring disabled people and child abuse/death are quite common, and are universally shocking.

However, if you think you can stomach taboo humour and have a mind open to such an unusual programme, I highly recommend it. It's likely that in between the guilty laughs and shocked silences, you'll find you take away an appreciation for the atmosphere and some of the questions the pitch black humour poses.