Those of you who were lucky enough to attend the UK Premiere of Four Lions held at the National Media Museum a few weeks ago might have been a tad surprised by the appearance of Chris Morris. He was, well, just so charming and normal. The enthusiastic man energetically introducing his comedy about suicide bombers based in the North seemed far removed from the persona that had appeared on TV shows such as The Day Today and Brass Eye during the mid-90s. Where was the barking arrogance the typified his News Presenter (“Peter, next time you cross the road, don’t bother looking.”)? The steel-eyed fearlessness that had him getting celebrities to make fools of themselves in Brass Eye whilst simultaneously approaching real-life drug dealers to ask for a litany of made-up drugs (“Got any Clarky Cat?”)? The anarchic streak that caused a young Morris, whilst at BBC Radio Bristol, to release helium into the news studio during a report? As Lucian Randall attempts to discover in his book Disgusting Bliss: The Brass Eye of Chris Morris, these are all important parts of the legend of Morris. But just how much of the legend has been carefully crafted by Morris?
Indeed, one of the things that Randall points out is just how clever Morris is at controlling his persona. This is partly due to his policy of rarely speaking to the press – though giving it his blessing, he declined to be interviewed for the book – and turning much of the media’s lazy practise against itself. Morris’ mischievous releasing of helium into a newsroom is often quoted in profiles and stories about the satirist – yet it seems to have originated in a press release written by Morris himself. It’s what gives the book much of its fascination – as Randall peels back the layers to discover the man behind the myth. He discovers a popular and charming man who grew up with a particular love of the Goons, Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band, Peter Cook and music in general. He also discovers a man of fierce intelligence and a biting black humour that would serve him well when he started at Radio Cambridgeshire. He sheds light upon a person with a obsessive drive (one anecdote sees Morris with caked blood over his fingers after staying up all night editing a radio show with nothing but a razor blade and some tape) and a fearlessness that gives the BBC – and many of his other employers in the future – plenty of causes to worry.
He also finds a person whose collaborators are fiercely loyal. Whilst people such as Charlie Brooker, Armando Iannucci and David Quantick are ultimately happy to take part it’s telling that they made sure that Morris was happy that they talked. But Morris fans will be delighted to learn more about Morris working practises (which often involved him working alone), discover little nuggets of information (such as his contributions to Brooker’s TV Go Home) and find out just how some of the celebrities were duped during Brass Eye. But, whilst his techniques are carefully dealt with, Randall is at pains to point out just how funny Morris is (and, if you’ve seen the current campaign, so are the PR people for Four Lions). Whilst the many controversies of his career – such as the Brass Eye Paedophilia Special, his ‘special message’ for Michael Grade and announcing the possible death of Michael Heseltine on air – are comprehensively dealt with, Randall attempts to show a person who is genuinely funny. The rhythm of language, the use of words and a gleeful grasp of nonsense and the surreal go towards some of Morris’ most hilarious moments. Shows such as the neglected Why Bother (in which Morris engaged in a series of brilliant semi-improvised interviews with an ailing Peter Cook) also showed a sharp wit and his radio work allowed him to utilise his love of music.
It’s disappointing that Randall doesn’ go beyond the final episode of Brass Eye (just briefly touching upon Nathan Barley and his short film My Wrongs 8245-8249 And 117) as he feels that this represents a move into narrative. I do think it would have been productive to follow some of this later work – one of Morris’ trademarks has been a willingness to move on and it would have also been interesting to dissect the more negative reaction that Barley received to the generally positive feedback to his earlier work (well, unless you’re The Daily Mail). But this is a well-researched and excellently written examination of one of the most prominent comedian and satirists of the past few decades.
As an aside, you should also make the effort to go and see Four Lions. It’s hard-hitting, thought provoking but – most importantly – extremely funny thanks to strong direction from Morris and some absolutely brilliant performances.
Disgusting Bliss: The Brass Eye of Chris Morris is released by Simon & Schuster and is available now online and from all good bookshops. Happy now?
Four Lions is on general release from May 7th 2010
For more information on Chris Morris visit www.cookdandbombd.co.uk
nice post. thanks.