wheelchair, moseys through charity (“I’ll say
this though…it’s a pain init?”), child abuse,
famine and apartheid (“incarcerated for a
quarter of a century Mandela has…been out
about fourteen years now, and he hasn’t reof-
fended, so I think he’s going straight, which
just shows you, prison can work”).
Back in movieland, Gervais has also been
rolling out some version of the following dur-
ing his press junket extravaganza: “With a
film… the plot is more important than char-
acter. In TV and something episodic like a sit-
com, you can get away with just having great
characters. You don’t really need plot. With
a film you need more plot.” Which may be at
the heart of why ‘…Lying’ is lacking. Gervais,
like Woody Allen, is always the same. From
project to project, he always looks and sounds
mostly like himself. What’s great about him,
like Allen much of the time, is precisely all of
that AND the brilliant dialogue, great writ-
ing, funny one liners, and usually something
to think about. But suddenly he’s ditched the
clever writing and hasn’t particularly deliv-
ered on the plot either. He seems to have
missed the point or forgotten that comedy
and romance as genres – and by extension
the hybrid but ubiquitous romantic comedy
– must be character driven to work. The plot
- boy meets girl, boy falls in love with girl but
can’t have her, girl realises boy is special and
they live happily ever after – changes only
marginally from that formula from Annie
Hall through When Harry Met Sally to As
Good As it Gets. What, if anything do peo-
ple remember? Albie and Annie arguing,
Sally doing her fake orgasm, Jack Nicholson
walking on the cracks. Not the idea that lying
doesn’t exist and…well that’s really the only
idea in The Invention of Lying.
Or perhaps what’s missing is the influ-
ence of Gervais’ writing partner and friend
Stephen Merchant with whom he has done
his breakthrough, most impressive work,
notably the TV situation comedies The Office
(/) and Extras (). The pair met on
XFM radio in London in where Gervais
had managed to get himself a post as Head
of Speech after a lacklustre performance
as the self-proclaimed cleverest boy in his
school in Reading, and a stint afterwards
at London University for the philosophy
degree. Stephen worked as his assistant until
he left to do a production training course at
the BBC. Part of the training was to make
a film, which he did at Gervais’ office. And
the rest is…well actually before becoming a
super success with David Brent, Gervais was
a regular contributor to Channel Four’s The
Eleven O’Clock Show, with the likes of Sacha
Baron Cohen and Jimmy Carr. He also met
Mackenzie Crook there, and later remem-
bered him to play Gareth in The Office. After
a few attempts at stand-up Gervais toured
with his first successful show, Animals, in
, before coming back with the final two
episodes of The Office at Christmas time.
Politics came a year later and continuing to
write about what he knew, Fame was a hit for
him in .
Before that, everyone wondered how
Gervais and Merchant could top the creation
of David Brent, and then along came the won-
derful world of Extras about the life of Andy
Millman, an aspiring actor who brushes up
against ‘real’ stars on set. The genius was not
only how Gervais and Merchant persuaded
these people to play themselves, but how they
managed to get them to mock themselves
in a way that left you unsure as to the line
between art and life. Highlights included
Kate Winslet dressed as a nun in a second
world war movie, uttering the line, “I’m
doing it because I’ve noticed, if you do a film
about the holocaust, you’re guaranteed an
Oscar”, which she got for the holocaust film
The Reader last year. Lightweight has-been
TV presenter and comedian Les Denis who
was infamously cuckolded by his former wife
Amanda Holden with laddish Men Behaving
Badly actor Neil Morrissey, played a has-
been TV presenter and comedian blind to the
infidelity of his younger pretty girlfriend.
And that was that. Somewhere along the way,
comedy-world domination became the norm
for Gervais with roles in mega Hollywood
blockbusters alongside Ben Stiller and
Robert DeNiro, an often mentioned (by him)
friendship with David Bowie, a romantic lead
in the underrated movie Ghost Town, and
tributes from a host of American comedy
legends like Larry David and Christopher
Guest, after The Office was reinterpreted for
American audiences and Extras was picked
up by HBO.
So, given all of that, is it a surprise
that Ricky Gervais doesn’t care what peo-
ple think and that this film isn’t the best
example of his brilliance? In a recent inter-
view, he said, “I don’t care whether people
say, ‘The Office is rubbish, Extras is worse,
Flanimals is a waste of time, he’s not funny,
he never has been, I hate him’. I don’t mind
that at all. In fact, not only do I expect it, I
celebrate it, because I think the haters are
really important”. Understandable in a way,
since when he decided to write and direct
The Invention of Lying, his first foray into
film-making, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Ed
Norton, Tina Fey and Rob Lowe amongst oth-
ers, were only too willing to get involved. But
that doesn’t change the fact that, although
a large number of people find Gervais clever,
quirky, unusual, Lying is not worth the
price of admission and only mildly funny,
which is what it’s all about in the end. But
between all the work – a new Flanimals, the
children’s book by Gervais is just out and
the concept is being made into a major CGI
movie; Cemetery Junction, co-directed and
written by Gervais and Merchant is due out
next year: and he’s currently touring with
Science, his fourth stand-up – and amid all
the adulation, let’s hope Gervais remembers
a little Brentian philosophy, “Know your lim-
itations and be content with them. Too much
ambition results in promotion to a job you
can’t do”.
“Gervais, like Woody Allen,
is always the same”