Yeah but no but yeah but, oh titter me not

Published on Wednesday 9 April 2008 20:32

Frankie Howerd: Rather You Than Me, BBC4

Natural World: Reindeer Girls, BBC2

THE Curse of Comedy series has seen some remarkable impersonations – most notably Phil Davis as Wilfred Brambell, Jason Isaacs as Harry H Corbett and Trevor Eve as Hughie Green, each capturing the essence of their characters without particularly resembling them. David Walliams in Frankie Howerd: Rather You Than Me was not in the same class. While he occasionally managed to gurn like Howerd, his awkward performance didn't succeed in ever making me forget he was Walliams Acting Howerd.

It wasn't just the half-expectation that he'd break into a catchphrase any minute. In fact, Howerd's comedy with its innuendo and repetitive digressions is the ancestor of Little Britain in some ways (yeah but no but titter ye not). Howerd's act didn't come across well in Peter Harness's script, shown only in his appearance at the Oxford Union, something of a later life comeback. It seemed tired, dated and vulgar; mind you, I think the same about Little Britain.

But that's the peculiar thing about this "Curse" series, that each film has seemed intent on showing that not only were the performers deeply troubled, but that their work was unworthy – Steptoe & Son ruining Corbett's potential, Green ushering in our current age of fake reality, Tony Hancock constantly searching for something better, and now Howerd, making faces and stuttering faux-outrage to hide the real outrage in his life. Yet all of them had been successful.

Based on the memories of his partner/manager/driver Dennis Heymer (touchingly played by Rafe Spall), the drama showed them caught in a cycle of Heymer trying to boost Howerd's terrible self-esteem, being kicked in the teeth for it, but repeatedly coming back, as predictable as one of Howerd's stage routines.

It all built up to Howerd finally revealing to Heymer that he'd been abused by his father, leaving him with lifelong deep depression which expressed itself as hating his own sexuality. But the explanation was too pat, with a neat resolution: Heymer understood and put up with Howerd's behaviour from then on while his career bounced back. Real life is messier and harder, and Walliams's over-emphatic performance didn't manage to make the drama's condensed version ring true.

More heart-warming was Reindeer Girls, a charming film about the Sami of far north Norway, one of Europe's last nomadic peoples. It had some of the most beautiful photography I've seen in ages and an amazing soundtrack of their traditional "yoiks" – songs of joy. "The trip is not so long when you yoik," said Sami herder May-Torill, in what sounds like a philosophical observation but was actually a reflection of their twice-annual migrations driving their reindeer between their winter pastures and a secluded island for the birthing season.

It looked so ancient, the Sami bundled up in furs leading their herd through bleak white landscapes – but now they use snowmobiles and, halfway through, must signal cars to stop so they can trot them across a busy road. This mixture of traditional and modern was most reflected in teenagers Elle and Inga, who seemed equally at home with mobile phones as looking after their reindeer. With stunning shots of the herd swimming from the island and against the dramatic mountains, this documentary was a visual treat. You could only hope that the young Sami would see the appeal of continuing their demanding traditional life, and keep yoiking on.