A message from the Guv'nor
Well, finally I get through to where the internerds are hiding, and find a few reviews of the lecture I gave that is currently available on video and that new DVD thing. And what can I say--it's top notch, isn't it? Though I'm not sure about all you lot saying it's funny--all I'm offering is fact, not opinion. Back off, Brussels! As it is I'm still on the road, and you can get details on my Web site and come for more common sense free and frank discussion of the crucial matters facing us today in Great Britain. And then I might get a carvery.
Recorded live in London's Playhouse Theatre, My Gaff, My Rules
sees Al Murray's Perrier Award-winning comic creation in top, boisterous ale-swilling form. The Pub Landlord has been compared to the likes of Alf Garnett and Harry Enfield's Loadsamoney character, but that doesn't prepare the viewer for Murray's highly developed and sophisticated lampoon of True Brit values. Since Murray has built up his following largely without the advantage of a TV profile, this represents an indispensable opportunity to see him on-screen.
Murray is merciless in coercing audiences into participation, demanding their names and professions, which generally disgust him, particularly those working in IT. One Hector, who abbreviates to "Heckie" is picked out for serial abuse by Murray, as is Jeremy the Australian ("returned to the scene of the crime, have you?") and a young woman whom he suspects of being a feminist: "trousers, job, the whole package".
Although Murray's prejudices are predictable--such as a loathing of the French--his reasons for disliking them are much less so ("They've got a town called Brest. And none of 'em think it's funny".) His powers of invention in order to justify his ludicrous bigotry leave you gasping for air. He's expanded the scope of his musings and is now able, ingeniously, to dismiss Sir Isaac Newton as a "timewaster". Meanwhile, both his use of language and onstage physical movement are surprisingly elegant. All of his strengths as a performer come together in a climactic routine in which he lambasts Germans for making everything that they say "come out funny". Murray then "proves" it with a series of Germanic nursery rhyme recitations which is a brilliantly observed virtuoso parody of cinematic Teutonic clichés. Absolutely not for boneheads. --David Stubbs