Tiffany Jenkins: Serious job of joking about taboo topics

But, as someone who was there on 7/7, when there was a devastating attack on the transport system that killed 52 people and injured many hundreds more, I was surprised to find myself chortling out loud while watching a scene about a similar, if fictional, attempt to blow up London.

Four Lions is the first feature film from the satirist Chris Morris. The comedy, out on general release from today, aims to show "the Dad's Army side to terrorism" and tells the story of four incompetent jihadists from the East Midlands plotting to bomb the London Marathon.

Who would have thought you could make a film about wanna-be suicide bombers who are idiots and get a belly-laugh, but Morris has done just that. At the same time, he unsettles the audience by showing this threat is serious. Though it is uneven and not as good as it could be, Four Lions is hilarious in parts and frightening in others.

Families of the victims of the 7/7 attack have appealed to cinemas not to show this controversial work. They acknowledge that humour has a part to play in examining serious issues, but argue the tragedy is still too raw to show a plot that pokes fun at terrorists. For them, the story is too close to home.

Despite these complaints and calls for censorship from victims of suicide bombers, the film should be shown and people should watch it. While we should have every sympathy for those who have suffered, they should not decide what we can and cannot see.

Critical comedy is an essential creative reaction to serious issues and a product of a society that is self-aware. For centuries, comics and artists have ridiculed those in the public eye, highlighting social problems and questioning the dogmas of the day. They were rarely popular, or found approval, but they held a mirror up to society and exposed the hypocrisy and cant. In so doing, they encouraged people to question the status quo.

Unfortunately, much of this energy and fury has gone. Apart from rare exceptions, critical comedy has failed to evolve and address new issues. If anything, it has become mainstream. Comics are rarely, truly controversial, more often cynical and complicit.

Instead of searing satire, today comics and artists rarely go against the grain. I enjoy Rory Bremner, but he never surprises me. I rarely miss Have I Got News For You, but it's a similar set up. They sneer at politicians, who it is agreed are rubbish, and we nod in agreement with a knowing smile on our faces. The Thick of It was very funny and perceptive, but it didn't ruffle a hair on Alastair Campbell's head and he was probably flattered by the portrayal of the main spin-doctor.

A major problem for satire today is the fear of causing offence. Comedian David Mitchell is one of many entertainers who have warned of nervousness in TV. There is a tendency to play safe and not scare the horses.

This is a real problem. The engagement of the arts in social and political debate has never been more important. Since the early 1990s, new social and cultural taboos have developed. We are prone to a host of new anxieties that need scrutiny in all its forms. The hurdles we face and the restrictive and censorious society in which we live needs lampooning.

Morris is at the vanguard of doing just that and this is why Four Lions is to be welcomed. He has form in causing offence where it is necessary. That is offence which forces us to question our reactions, norms and behaviour, rather than just for the sake of it.

His earlier TV programme The Day Today ridiculed the media's portrayal of various social ills, especially the sensationalist approach to crime reporting. He was behind the highly contentious Channel 4 show Brass Eye, a spoof documentary exposing moral panics, including that of paedophilia. The critique of our inflated response to the serious problem of child abuse is still relevant. This is especially so because all too often the cultural elite, who decide what we get to see, do not take similar risks. In fact, it is notable that they are at the forefront of restricting free expression.

Last September Tate Modern removed Spiritual America, Richard Prince's highly sexual photograph of a ten-year-old Brooke Shields, from its exhibition Pop Life on the advice of the Metropolitan Police. This major gallery appeared worried that the picture, in which a young Shields was naked and in make-up, and which was provocative and unnerving, would be interpreted as child porn.

The audience was not trusted to be able to see and consider the work in an intelligent fashion. The removal of this photograph from display treated the public with contempt, and revealed a poor commitment to free expression and the artistic imagination.

Like child abuse, terrorism and the rise of radical Islam is one area where people are too afraid to say boo. For too long, we have tip-toed around talking about terror. In the art world, self- censorship is rife on this issue in particular. There has been far too much editing or withdrawing anything that might be judged irreligious or anti-Muslim.

A report by the New Culture Forum think-tank lists such instances of self-censorship. It includes the Barbican in London, which cut out sections of its production of Tamburlaine the Great for fear of offending community groups. After pressure from the BBC management, the identity of terrorists in an episode of the hospital drama Casualty was changed from Islamists to animal rights' extremists.

In 2008, Random House decided against publishing Sherry Jones' novel The Jewel of Medina, which tells the story of Muhammad's relationship with Aisha, his 14-year-old wife, after one academic reader said it "might be offensive to some in the Muslim community". Note that in this case no-one – Muslim or not – had objected before Random House pulled the book. It would appear that in many cases of contemporary censorship, it's not the Muslim community but the publishing houses, TV producers and cultural organisations who are worried about causing offence.

We need for them to hold their nerve. Nothing should be off limits. The telling of jokes is important work that needs to be taken seriously.