Posts Tagged ‘One Minute Reviews’

One Minute Review: Horne & Corden

March 11, 2009

For those of you who didn’t catch it, a quick round up of all the gags featured in last night’s opening episode of Horne & Corden’s new sketch show. All thirteen jokes are present, including the successful one.

Joke 1
Introduction, with the actually quite amusing sight of a fat man being overexcited. Ruined by a damp punchline squib.

Joke 2
A fat man suddenly notices he is fat and throws away his burger.

Joke 3
A camp news reporter in Iraq, ripped directly from Steve Coogan’s portrayal of Pauline Calf.

Joke 4
A vaguely accurate David Brent impersonation.

Joke 5
Teachers show a class how to draw cocks. Potentially a good gag, ruined by the fact that no cock I ever saw on any exercise book looked like that, because they looked like this.

Joke 6
The perfume ad you’ve already seen that features a naked fat man.

Joke 7
A relay race in which a fat man can be seen trying to compete.

Joke 8
A man pushes another man over on his arse in a supermarket.

Joke 9
Superman chats to Spiderman. Spiderman is fat and we see his big, fat bottom.

Joke 10
A fat man is having sex and can’t finish up.

Joke 11
Whilst discussing strategy, an army officer asks if anyone has a Nokia charger. Eerily reminiscent of a Fast Show classic.

Joke 12
An alcoholic fat man humiliates his ex-schoolmate in front of his family.

Joke 13
Westcountry magicians do a dance routine, in the hope that it will be made funny by the fact that one of them is fat.

End Credits

It’s good to see BBC3 continuing with its schedule of rushed-out, underwritten and flimsy sketch shows. It’s looking like Horne & Corden is a worthy addition to that tradition. Roll on next week.

Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street

May 6, 2008

Johnny Depp as Sweeney Todd

Christ, Tim Burton’s gone down the pan recently, hasn’t he?

After the fantastic Ed Wood and the ridiculously enjoyable Mars Attack, he went crazy on the remakes, failing to recreate Planet of the Apes and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory with any flair and making the more original Sleepy Hollow and Big Fish to a universal ‘so what?’

Now he’s remade a musical that nobody had seen in the first place. It also got an indifferent response from the critics. It doesn’t get a response from me at all, as it happens. It gets a deep, heavy snore. One hour and ten minutes in, I fell into a fantastic sleep and upon waking, it had ended. But what was the reason for my lapse into unconsciousness? Why did I plop into slumber? How could the work of this commercial auteur fail to inspire me?

If you haven’t seen it, you won’t know that half an hour of the film is devoted to Johnny Depp doing a sixth form impression of Bowie whilst singing the same lines over and over and over again. He sings to his razor blades that they are ‘his friends’. ‘His friends’. They are ‘his friends’. Instrumentation. ‘They’re my friends’. ‘His friends’. It never bloody ends! Honestly, the amount of time devoted to this section almost drove me to a monitor-smashing incident. Add the occasional intrusion of Bonham Carter doing her best Rada-actress-landed-in-Walford accent and fists become clenched and teeth get themselves gritted. It stinks.

Also repeated until it bores into your head is a song where the word ‘beeeautiful’ features a billion times. ‘Oh, she’s beeeautiful’ the young lad sings, until you’ve bitten your bottom lip off. ‘Beeeeautiful!’.

You just want it to end suddenly.

Even the bit with Sacha Baron Cohen fails to amuse. He arrives in the midst of heavy, intoxicating boredom, sings a bit whilst wearing tight trousers, then dies as quickly as he arrives. Even the bit where he gets his throat slit wide open is dull. The whole thing is as BORING AS FUCK.

*nods off just thinking about it*

One Minute Review: The Cottage

April 9, 2008

The Cottage

The Cottage stars him off League of Gentleman, him off of those dreadful Lord Up Them Rings movies and her wot’s off of Brookside with the whopping great melons. The first two kidnap the other one and dump her in a cottage. Spudgun off of Bottom turns up, and then everyone gets murdered by a big fella with really rubbish makeup.

This is how they meet their sticky ends:

  • Bird off of Brookside with the big tits: Spade straight through the face. It’s a good death is this – shame she doesn’t spill her knockers and give us men a shot at them puppies.
  • He off of them crappy Lord! Oh My Rings! movies: Pickaxe through the chest. Bit rubbish after her with the tits gets ‘erself a faceful of spade.
  • Spudgun: Ploughing thing up the unmentionables, then gutted. Spudders doesn’t like it! He don’t like it one fucking bit, sorr! Bejaysus, to be sure, to be sure!
  • Him off of The League Of Gentlemen: Attacked by a family in the cellar. This is the last bit of the film, and therefore:


My verdict? RUBBISH! Five stars.

One Minute Review… Vampire Weekend: A-Punk

March 16, 2008

I’m sorry gang, but this just won’t do. The next big thing has been served up again hot on the tracks of about 10 other next big things and the emperor’s new clothes have never looked more like a sagging, nude, middle-aged record company bigwig.

Have a listen to the above and see what you think. See if what happened to me happens to you.

Where are you in the song? Just past the intro and a few seconds in? When it started, it was alright, wasn’t it? Sort of like The Strokes doing something in a weird time-signature. The guitar was nicely trebly and erratic – the bassist doing weird things as well, playing a counter-melody rather than thudding out a dirge.

But then the vocals went and kicked in and you realised what was going on. You realised that some fucking record company is trying to flog you a hybrid of the aforementioned Strokes and fucking STING.

I’m not buying it. I’m not illegally downloading it, come to that. This is The Police of the noughties and the horrific vocals combined with the preppy American college garb combines to create a gruesome mixture of curdling influences.

Set your watches for a couple of months’ time when hopefully these great white hopes will have sunk without taste or trace.

One Minute Review: ‘Emily, I’ by Scrabbel

January 15, 2008

If something is shit, it’s simply shit. Hey, no problem.

When something tries desperately to be witty, cool, ‘off the wall, ‘knowing’, and fails, then my blood pressure rises. After watching this video I was so enraged I was left spitting at my computer with my face all red and puffy.

Using bits of stop motion animation and live footage of this appalling group of wankers all being funny and wotnot by dressing as animals and ‘larking’ about- we are left with what is possibly the worst piece of crap ever seen in the history of mankind. To add insult to injury, some prick has spent a great deal of time on this bollocks. Take the animation for example, out of context it isn’t that offensive, in context it simply lends itself to underline the shit-flinging awfulness of the fucking video.

The band, a sort of partially dieted Magic Numbers, but far, far worse (and that’s saying something), they display vastly over-inflated egos which tower so far over their insignificant talents it makes me feel physically ill. The sickening cutesiness of their supposed image, the attempted nonchalance, the cunting costumes… I can’t do anymore on this. I need to fill my eyes with thick bleach in order to redress karma.

Oh – the song? Don’t get me started on that. Someone tell them the fucking 60s is over.

One Minute Review: Visit Malta

January 11, 2008

Visit Malta 

The cheapest ad ever made? The ‘music’, possibly recorded in the canteen of the Malta Tourist board, sounds a bit like ‘Dreams’, the monotone nasal drone performed by that pseudo one-eyed nit Gabrielle, before lurching off in such wild directions of musical incompetence that I think it may have been written and recorded after work by the dinner ladies and Pedro, the potty mouthed Maltese cook with the limp and the built up shoe.

Now the graphics, we’re slowly drip fed still images of heroin-blue skies, LSD flowers, cocaine white beaches all punctuated by grinning orange pricks in garish Muumuus, all bordered off, like those postcards sent to you in June by Auntie and Uncle Dubious-Income who have an all round perma-tan and less taste than a darts player’s mantlepiece as the music shrieks and jumps in the background/your face.

In short, it’s fucking cheap shit; I’d no sooner go to Malta on the back of this advert than drop my testicles into a bucket of discarded hospital syringes.

One Minute Review: Activia

January 11, 2008


 Ooooooooh – Danone…

Nell McNell McAndrew, who as far as I can recall is famous for absolutely nothing apart from being inanimate and having a face that refuses to shift from an expression of gormlessness, wanders around a bright white set punctuated by a lot of green things – green fridge, bowl of green apples, green sofa etc… and tells us we can sort out our ‘bloated feeling’ by consuming Activia.

Next time this advert’s on TV, notice how much of the screen is taken up by green stuff. Everything’s bloody green. When it finishes, your eyes take half an hour adjusting. Norris from Coronation Street appears with his face in a lime green hue. Phil and Fern have got olive-tinted jowls. Saturday Cooks is submerged in an ocean of chartreuse.

It’s all too green. Too, too green.