Silent Comedy: The opening ceremony

I've been musing on the nature of Mr. Bean, a subject I had not expected to have to muse on and am only now doing so because of Danny Boyle. Of the various surprises at the Olympics ceremony, there was none so great as the realisation that Rowan Atkinson is still performing the same gag years after his alter ego ceased to be amusing - to the British at any rate.

It is explainable: Mr. Bean's triumphant return to stage and screen that is. International recognition, not necessarily a pre-requisite of Boyle's ceremonial oeuvre, required a comedic act known to and found amusing by all global societies save for the one that spawned it.

It is understandable that Mr. Bean should appeal to non-English-literate nations, e.g. the Spanish. It is less understandable that the Germans, many of whom have a command of English, should find Mr. Bean corset-burstingly hilarious. It is not understandable in the least that the Americans should do so as well, though as they had elevated Benny Hill to a rank in comedy legendhood equivalent to that reserved for Charlie Chaplin, then it probably is understandable.

Chaplin is pertinent to this discussion. Mr. Bean is a modern-day descendant, though as a character, he owes as much to Marcel Marceau. More significantly, and in the context of Boyle's celebration of British culture, Chaplin's fame and humour were made not in his native England but in America. The ironies in the choice of Mr. Bean as representative of British humour are that it is humour that does not require understanding of the language, as was the case with Chaplin, and that, and like Chaplin, the English language was an export. Boyle neglected the fact that Britain's single greatest achievement has been language. Through its adoption by America, it became the global lingua franca, yet the Olympic ceremony gave full voice to humour that was mute.

Humour was a key element of Boyle's masterwork, but defining and indeed embracing different elements of British humour is and would have been as impossible as defining exactly what it means to be British. In the cultural diversity that Boyle displayed, perhaps he was making just this point, but the humour, save for other overt expressions, such as the Bond sketch, bordered on the subliminal, certainly to an audience not aware of specific cultural references.

The Spanish, and I watched the ceremony on Spanish television, quite obviously didn't get a lot of it. The TVE1 commentators, who presumably had a copy of the running order, either didn't understand it or thought it simpler to not even bother attempting to explain. While the commentary was effusive and praiseworthy, it was more so of the effects and the spectacular elements than of, for example, the "EastEnders" Thames, which received no explanation.

The Spanish press, "El País" anyway, was complimentary of the way in which cultural heritage was shown in such a theatrical fashion. Another "El" newspaper, "El Mundo", was far less complimentary. Indeed, its contributor, Luis Martínez, seemed to have decided beforehand that he was going to hate the ceremony. It was as well that Boyle hadn't started proceedings with earlier historical references than he did, e.g. to the defeat of the Armada. Sr. Martínez, with a tell-tale mention of "British superiority", exposed his "patata" and "hombro" (chip and shoulder) that influenced a thoroughly spiteful dig at Boyle, the Queen and Kenneth Branagh.

What Sr. Martínez failed to appreciate was the occasional in-joke humour. He took a reference to "Trainspotting" as an act of self-tribute by Boyle, the film's director. Wrong. Like another British export to America, Alfred Hitchcock, Boyle was paying homage to the cameo as joke, just as Hitchcock used to. Sr. Martínez missed, or didn't mention, that there was a further cameo joke. Amidst all the music was "Born Slippy .NUXX", made famous by "Trainspotting", and the work of the opening ceremony's musical directors, Underworld. One might also suggest that the choice of "Oh Danny Boy" was a joke, though had Sr. Martínez acknowledged it, it would have been as a further manifestation of Boyle's self-aggrandisement.

Humour is not an easy subject to deal with because of its endless varieties and its different meanings to different people. Mr. Bean is simple humour. It was understandable to an international audience, but Boyle played plenty of games with that audience, and in attempting to pontificate on the subject, one foreign commentator fell right into the trap that Boyle had set. Mr. Bean notwithstanding, it was a great achievement. If some of the humour failed, then what did people expect instead? Frankie Boyle?


Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.